Page 171 of Finding the Forward: Part One
“While I very much want some of that, husband, we should exchange presents before AJ wakes us up for breakfast.” I kissed his neck.
I got out of bed and tossed Grif his pajama pants and pulled on mine. This year we all had blue Nordic print ones. I wasn’t sure if AJ had noticed that they matched the sweater of one of the babycows Verity had gotten him. We used the bathroom and brushed our teeth. I hoped for a big kiss after his present.
“Here’s yours.” I handed him the flat, rectangular parcel as we settled back into bed.
“Thanks, Jellybean.” His red hair hung in his eyes, making him look so like the boy I’d loved for so long. Well, except for the beard.
My mom had done the wrapping. I’d had it sent to her place and got it last night, so I wouldn’t get so excited that I ruined the surprise.
Not like I’d ever done that before.
“Dean, what?” He drew his finger over the gold writing on the black folder.Boston Institute of Technology.Grif sucked in a sharp breath as he opened it. A piece of calligraphed parchment lay nestled in little paper corners against the folder.
Let it be known that on this day, having successfully completed his course of study, Griffin Patrick McGraff has been conferred a Bachelor of Science in Music from the Boston Institute of Technology.
Tears pricked his eyes as he looked up at me. His hands shook so hard, the folder dropped to the bed. “How?”
My lips brushed across his face, kissing away the tears. “I’ve known about the rule change for music majors for months. My dad told me. I used his influence to petition on your behalf and get it expedited. You’re the very first recipient under the new rule.”
He had enough units, he just didn’t meet that one requirement.
Sitting back on my heels, I gave him an expectant look, my belly full of nerves. “I hope I didn’t overstep. To me, your worth can’t be tied to any piece of paper. No one in this pack thinks less of you. But I know how much it weighs on you that you didn’tgraduate because someone thought making music majors take advanced calculus was a great idea.”
Grif’s hand went to the back of my head as he pressed his face against mine. He tasted of toothpaste. Warmth rushed over me as his lips crushed mine, his beard scratching softly against my jaw. His hand rubbed my bare back. He pulled me to him, holding me tightly.
“Thank you. This... this is everything.” His green eyes glistened.
“I love you so much, Gumdrop. You should call some of those places back that want you to conduct. We’ll support you one hundred percent,” I told him. It would be good for him to get back into music. It always brought him so much joy.
“I’ve already looked into a few. AJ’s been helping,” he told me, face still in my shoulder. “Now my present is dumb.”
I tilted his head up and kissed him. “There are no dumb presents.”
That was part of the promise.
He handed me a flat and rectangular parcel. I unwrapped it and inhaled sharply. Someone had oil-painted the two of us, as tiny children, in our jerseys on the left side. On the right side was us, in our Knights jerseys, in the same pose. In the center was us in our suits at our wedding. Underneath in calligraphy wasIt’s always been youand the date we were married. It was framed and mattedbeautifullywith little hearts in the corners.I recognized the photos all three vignettes were from.
“Sissy did this? Do I want to know what you had to barter for this?” I admired the three delicate scenes and the artful framing. It was beautiful, and while I was an artist, oil paint was not my medium. His sister had an online business painting things from photographs.
“No. Especially since one of her packmates did the framing, and another did the calligraphy. Do you like it? It’s nothingcompared to what you did. I... I have a diploma. Igraduated.” A tear rolled down his face.
I kissed his eyes, then his nose, and finally his mouth. “I love it. We’ll have to find a spot to hang it.”
I loved art–and art ofus? Amazing. At some point, I should have Sissy do one of our pack and hang it over the mantle.
Maybe after we had a little alpha join us.
“Are you up?” AJ called, rapping lightly on the closed door. “Does anyone know what the pan with the towel is? Also, who turned up the heat to tropical?”
Grif got up and opened the door. “You can turn it down. I was afraid they wouldn’t rise. I should put them in the oven.”
Delight bubbled up in me. Warm + rise = bread. “What are you baking?”
His look went sly. “Cinnamon rolls.”
“Griffin McGraff, when did you make cinnamon rolls from scratch?” I asked. They were my favorite and a holiday staple. Growing up, Grif, my mom, and I used to make them together. It was a laborious process.
“I made them last week when you were at that Omega Center holiday thing, then froze them for later. I almost forgot to put them out.” His look grew bashful.
