Page 80 of Ends of the Earth
After pulling on a tank top and flannel pajama bottoms, Ben headed downstairs, hardwood smooth under his bare feet. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused at the framed picture Jason had drawn of him and Maggie that day on the Road to the Sun. The crinkles still showed in the faded paper, but Jason’s pencil strokes were strong and true.
He couldn’t imagine what his life would be without Jason and Maggie. A terrible ordeal had cemented their bond, but they’d survived it. Not simply survived—thrived and grown stronger together.
He swallowed thickly and laughed at himself. He always got a little emotional on birthdays. With a tap of his fingers on the wooden picture frame, he walked on. Maggie still saw a local therapist every month, and was one of the most remarkably well-adjusted people Ben knew. They’d never forget Harlan Brown, but he was a speck in the rearview mirror.
Ben walked into the open-concept kitchen and squeezed Maggie’s shoulder on his way to the coffee machine. “Morning.” A bigger dining room spread out beyond the granite-topped peninsula, along with sliding doors to the wide verandah, where Ben’s rocking chairs sat, dew glistening on the faded wood.
At the little round kitchen table where they usually ate, Maggie had gathered a few gifts and cards, the rising sun highlighting her long, golden hair. “Hey. Happy birthday!” She held up a box with an artful eye-roll. “From Brad and Tyson. Probably something super pretentious and ‘zen’ or whatever now that they’ve discovered Buddhism. They’re so enlightened, don’t you know.”
Ben laughed. “Oh, I know. They mean well.”
Holding Dylan, Jason appeared and strapped him into his high chair at the kitchen table. “Just as long as we never have to chant at dinner again. A simple grace will do me.”
“And me. Good thing we only see them about once a year.” Ben poured a cup of coffee from the pot that brewed automatically every morning, inhaling the rich, bitter scent deeply. “Next time they come through they’ll probably be wearing those red string bracelets Madonna used to.”
“Who?” Maggie asked.
Ben pulled out his chair beside hers. “Ha, ha. You were singing along to her new song on the way home from junior rangers last night.”
She held up a cream-colored envelope. “This one’s from Grandma and Grandpa. Probably money. Nothing from Uncle Tim, but he’ll send a text just before midnight when he remembers at the last second.”
Jason sat and sipped a mug of coffee. “But we love him anyway.” He screwed the lid on a sippy cup and helped Dylan slurp. “Should we start with cards?”
Maggie thrust a brightly wrapped box toward Ben, her eyes bright. “No, open mine first.” Biting her lip, she tucked a long leg under herself and fidgeted, toying with the fraying hem of her pajama top. Ben still couldn’t believe how much she’d grown. She was almost thirteen and a real teenager, as she liked to remind them.
He shook the surprisingly light box, which didn’t seem to have much inside. Was probably a gift card under a pile of tissue paper. “Hmm. Is it that new super-super-super high-def TV?”
Maggie tilted her head and gave him a look. “Ha, ha.”
“Lawn mower? Oh, come on. You know I’m funny. Dylan thinks I’m funny, don’t you, buddy?” He reached over and tickled his little feet.
Dylan gurgled with delight and kicked, slapping his palms on the tray of his high chair. His dark hair stood up on end the way it always did, bedhead or not. After a two-year adoption process, they’d picked him up at the agency in Brazil six weeks before, and Ben still had to pinch himself.
He ripped the paper to reveal an old Amazon box. “Okay, what do we have here…” He opened the cardboard folds, and inside there was indeed a pile of tissue paper. He pulled it out, throwing it up in the air so it drifted down, Dylan clapping his pudgy hands.
There was a letter-sized piece of paper at the bottom, probably a printout of a gift card, as he’d guessed. He pulled it out, realizing it was several pages and stapled. Reading the words printed on top, his heart skipped.
“I mean, if you want.” Maggie watched anxiously.
Ben hoarsely read out loud, “State of California, application for adoption of a child.” He didn’t try to stop the tears that flooded his eyes as he looked between Maggie and Jason, who blinked away tears of his own. Ben was so full of love he could barely breathe. “Yes. Yes, I want this so much. Are you sure, sweetheart?”
Maggie nodded and sprang forward to hug him. He held her so tightly, and they cried as Dylan watched in puzzlement, Jason wiping his cheeks.
When Maggie sat back, rubbing her eyes and sniffling, she said, “You’re already my dad in every way that counts, so I want it to be official. And I want to call you that too. Dad, I mean. Or will that be weird?”
