by R. C. Martin
Teddy blamed me for that.
I rolled onto my opposite side, turning my back toward my wife in search of my mini-me. She sat perched on her knees, fully dressed with her brush in hand. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and gave her a quick once over. She’d decided on a sleeveless white dress with a cherry print pattern. When she wanted to dress herself, which was becoming the trend the closer to four she got, she always picked a dress.
Teddy blamed me for that, too.
“Hi, sweetie,” I muttered as I reached out to shield her from the edge of the bed. “It’s early. What are you doing up?”
“I need you to brush my hair,” she answered as she leaned closer.
“Baby, it’s early. The sun’s not up yet.”
“But I want to be pretty for mommy’s surprise,” she insisted.
The smirk that curled the corner of my mouth couldn’t be helped. Still, even I wasn’t ready to get out of bed.
“Come ‘ere, sweetie. Lay with daddy for a minute.”
Frankie hesitated only for a second before she lifted the sheet and tucked herself against my chest. I pressed a kiss into her silky soft hair, a little wild after a night of sleep, and took advantage of whatever patience she was willing to offer me that morning. I knew I didn’t have long. There was a reason she was up before the sun, dressed and ready to barrel into the day. It was Teddy’s birthday, and Frankie loved birthdays.
I blamed my sweetheart for that.
Though, what I had planned for the day was entirely my doing, which was proof that I was still her fool.
It had been a busy year up until then, with more traveling than we’d done in a while. We’d spent the holidays in Colorado, which meant we’d started the year on a plane back home. In March, we were back in Denver to celebrate Theo’s fourth birthday. In April, we were back again for our anniversary. We spent two nights in Beaver Creek—which was about as long as we could get away with before Frankie would start to miss us too much. With the help of grandparents—the Delaneys one night and the Fitzpatricks the next—there was enough shuffling around to distract her long enough for me to get two uninterrupted nights and mornings with my woman. No sooner had we gotten back to Santa Monica, it felt like we were called back to Denver again.
Clara Lily Delaney came into the world in May. That trip had come with a bit of a compromise. I stayed for the weekend and then flew back alone, while Theodora and Francesca stayed for a couple extra days. In June, we were in Scotland for Teddy’s destination shoot. Every year since Francesca was born, we took a couple weeks out of the year and traveled anywhere Theodora St. Michaels wanted to go; and every trip resulted in a portfolio of work for which she was known. After nearly a decade, I never tired of seeing the world through the lens of her camera.
In July, it was I who came and went while Teddy and Francesca stayed home. When my trips to Oregon started to spill into August—the hunt for our new office space in Portland proving to be difficult—Teddy wanted only one thing for her birthday: a long weekend at home with our daughter, me, and no work. It was the least extravagant request I had ever heard from her. When I said as much, she merely shrugged and assured me that’s what she wanted and that she’d go wild in December for both mine and Francesca’s birthdays.
I was on the phone with Geoffrey an hour later.
It was Theodora’s thirtieth birthday.
I could do better than a weekend at home with no work.
“Daddy,” whispered Frankie. She scooted up the bed until her nose touched mine. “Daddy, mommy’s going to wake up soon.”
I laughed softly, amused by her perception of time. What she had yet to grasp was that her mother only woke before eight in the morning if she was beckoned. And when left alone completely, she could sleep until mid-morning—especially if I kept her up the night before. Which I had. Though, I knew it would be some kind of miracle if I could distract Frankie an hour—let alone three. Teddy’s slumbering moments were numbered.
“Daddy…” She’d lost a bit of her whisper, her desperation complete with a volume just loud enough I knew I couldn’t ignore.
“Okay,” I said as I sat up. She was quick to sit up, too, and I scooped her into my arms as I climbed out of bed.
I took her to our closet, and she so graciously allowed me the chance to slip into a pair of gym shorts before I brushed her hair. After I convinced her we should also wash her face and brush her teeth, she then dragged me to the kitchen. I made our breakfast first, in an effort to kill time, and I didn’t rush Francesca through her consumption of French toast and eggs. Even still, it was only six-thirty by the time she was finished and ready for part one of mommy’s surprise. Knowing Francesca’s enthusiasm would be a gift in and of itself, I gave in and made Teddy a plate of breakfast along with a cappuccino. When I had both in hand, Francesca raced for the stairs.
“Mommy? Mommy, it’s your birthday. We have a surprise. Mommy!” I heard Frankie murmur as I approached our bedroom. “Wake up, mommy.”
“Morning, Mermaid,” mumbled Teddy as she crawled out of sleep.
“It’s your birthday!” cried Frankie.
“You’re right.” Teddy giggled groggily and lifted our daughter into the bed just as I entered the room.
“We have a surprise. See?” She pointed at me, then wiggled out of Teddy’s lap and into the space right beside her.
“Wow. This is for me?” gasped Teddy playfully.
“Mmmhmm,” Frankie hummed with a nod.
I set Teddy’s plate of French toast in her lap, and she raked her fingers through her hair. She tossed it down her back before I handed her what I knew she wanted most.
“Thanks, baby.”
She took the mug in both hands, and I managed to kiss her in greeting before Frankie’s excitement took center stage.
“Daddy has another surprise, too,” she announced, kicking her little legs as she beamed up at her mother. She held out her hands and said, “We’re going to have pretty nails!”
“We are?!” Teddy wrapped an arm around Frankie and hugged her close. Pressing a kiss into her hair, she added, “That sounds so fun.” She then smiled at me and said, “What other surprises does daddy have planned?”
I didn’t disguise the mischievous expression on my face as I mentally went down the checklist. Thirty bouquets of flowers, which would be delivered while they were getting their nails done. Lunch at her favorite restaurant in Beverley Hills. And a little pool party—with two special guests she had no idea were coming.
I sat on the edge of the bed as I replied, “None that I’d be foolish enough to share.” I knew better than to tell our three-year-old her uncles Geoffrey and Louis were part of my plan.
Teddy hid her grin behind the rim of her coffee mug as she took a sip of her beverage.
“Mommy? Can I have a bite of your toast?”
“Can I have a bite first?” Teddy laughed, setting her cappuccino on the nightstand.
“Yeah.”
Teddy cut a bite with her fork and fed herself before she repeated the act for Frankie. As they both chewed, Teddy gave me her eyes—bright and beautiful—and I knew it would be a great day.
“I love you,” she murmured.
I kissed her then. I kissed her because it felt right; but also, because it was during moments like those when I got a snapshot of the graceful way she managed to be a mother and a wife and the only woman I knew I’d always choose; moments when I recognized the incredibly satisfying life I had because of her; moments when I was reminded that I’d been surprising her for years, and the way she looked at me when I did it never got old. It was during moments like those that I still lost my footing. I needed someone to tether me to the ground—and she was all I had.
“Tell me again tomorrow, sweetheart,” I said, my lips still grazing hers.
Speaking through a smile, she replied, “You know I always will.”
Thank you so much for reading Judah and Teddy’s story until the very end! I hope you enjoyed the
journey.
Of course, I do have one special bonus scene that may interest you…
For a peek into the St. Michaels’ future, written from Frankie’s perspective, subscribe to my newsletter here!
Also by R.C. Martin
Clandestine’s Closet
The Lies of Bryn van Doren (Coming soon!)
The Savior Series
Guarded
Tethered
Severed
Mountains & Men
Encore Worthy
Worthy of the Harmony
Worthy of the Dissonance
Worthy of the Melody
Tennessee Grace Series
Background Noise
Backwoods Belle
Rock-N-Roll Christmas
Made for Love Series
The Promises We Keep
Reckless Surrender
So Much More
Chasing After Me
Standalone Novels
Heartless
The Bridgewater Case
About the Author
R.C.'s journey into the world of publishing began like so many of her peers – with a big dream and a basket full of rejection. Confident she’d one day pen a book someone would say yes to, she spent years crafting stories which became the foundation of her craft. When she’d finally written “the one,” she just knew – and there was no rejection strong enough to stop her from sharing her novel with the world. In 2015 she published her debut, and the rest, as they say, is history – only far more romantic.
In a voice all her own, she strives to capture the magic of a kiss, the passion in a lovers’ embrace, and even sometimes the breathtaking ache of a broken heart. A true believer in the power of love and the grace found in redemption, you can trust this hopeless romantic to take you on an emotional ride that leaves you forever changed.
Stay Connected!
www.rcmartinbooks.com
