Page 51 of Note to Self
Trent puts his glass down, knee-crawls up to me, and straddles my thighs. “I want you to myself for a long while yet. Now let me see those muscles.” He snakes his hand up under my T-shirt, pushing it up high until he can pull it over my head. “Hmm, I like you in sweats. Especially when I know that you’re commando underneath.”
“What are you going to do with me?” I pull his face down to mine.
“Love you forever.”
“Hurry up!” I yell up the stairs to my perpetually late husband. “They’re going to be here any minute. Nope, not any minute. Now. They’re here now.”
“I’m here.” He darts down the stairs, stops next to me, and slides his arm around my waist to rest on my hip.
The last four years have been a whirlwind. The garden centre has gone from strength to strength. I now supply the restaurants here and a few more in surrounding towns. I’ve had to employ two members of staff to work on the growing part and another in the shop. Ivan has become an integral part of my success. He’s joined my business as a partner and has taken over the majority of the outside gardening services.
Trent is now a full-time artist and has had shows in London thanks to one of the critics who had visited his first exhibition here in Calston Cove. Life is simple, and even though Marc was released early, a no-contact order in place means we’ll never see him again.
I shocked Trent with my proposal. Our first holiday together on the beautiful island of Mykonos was the perfectsetting, and all our friends turned up to witness it. It’s a memory I’ll never forget. The wedding was exactly how I imagined it, with all our family and friends around us. One big surprise was my parents taking my advice to retire here. At first I wondered if it would be difficult being so close together, but it’s been a joy, especially when Tom and his family, and Bridget turn up with little or short notice.
Owning and running an organic nursery will never make us rich, but we don’t need it. When Trent’s house sold, he insisted on using the money to pay off the lion’s share of our mortgage, so it’s now virtually non-existent. We have everything we’ve ever wanted.
Well, almost everything, and that leads us to this moment.
Jet sits down next to me and takes a long drink of his pint. “Ahh, I needed that. It’s been a day of teenage angst in our home.”
“Oh dear, I remember those days, but as a teenager. It was not fun. Not that there was much of that in my home.”
“Trent says you’re looking into adoption. Have you started anything yet? Because we’re still in touch with the social worker who brought Conn to us. She may be able to help. I’m not sure she has much to do with babies, though.”
Trent sits opposite me at the small table in the pub. “We’re not looking for a baby. We would love to have a younger child. We’re not up to the trials you have with your kids, and they’re good ones.”
“Hey, that’s great. There are so many children desperate for loving homes.” He pulls out his phone and presses a few keys.My phone pings in my pocket. “I texted you her details. Give her a call when you’re ready.”
When I get into bed, Trent has a pensive look as he scrolls on the screen of his iPad.
“What’s up?” I snuggle up next to him. “An adoption site? Christ, is it like pick a kid?”
As we scroll through, excitement rises in my chest. Trent has tears in his eyes as he reads some of the children’s bios. “We need to do this.”
Trent opens the front door wide, and we step outside. The small car has come to a halt, and the woman we have become friends with climbs out and gives us a smile.
“Natalie, it’s good to see you.” After months of classes and meetings, our daughter is finally coming to live with us.
“It’s great to be here. Are you ready? Because I have a very excited little girl.”
The lump in my throat won’t budge, so all I can manage is a shaky nod. Luckily, Trent isn’t such a mess as I am. “I don’t think we’ve ever wanted anything more. It’s an amazing day for all of us.”
Natalie makes short work of opening the back door and taking our daughter out of the car. We have a little while before the formal adoption papers can be signed, but as soon as we read her file, we knew she was the one we wanted.
Wren was taken into care when she was only eighteen months old, after her mother died of an overdose. After being confined to her cot all that time, she was unable to walk properly. She was also non-verbal, but she has flourished in the last two years and has almost caught up with children her age. She has lived with foster carers ever since, but the break-up ofthe carers’ marriage means that she is no longer able to live with them.
We’ve had day visits where she fell in love with the cats and the chickens, wanting to catch them. The birds weren’t too impressed by that, but the photographs are priceless.
“Daddy!” Wren waves with one arm. Under the other, she holds a soft rabbit we gave her on her first overnight stay. She carries it everywhere with her.
I swoop down and pick her up, spinning her around as she laughs. Trent joins us, and Wren holds her arms out to him. For a moment, we stay still, holding our daughter in our loving embrace.
When we break apart, we both have wet eyes and huge smiles. Trent takes Wren from me and tucks her on his hip, then turns back to Natalie. She has her phone pointed at us, and she too looks a bit teary-eyed.
“Come on. Let’s go inside,” Trent says.
Natalie turns to me. “Shall we get the rest of her belongings?”
