Spiral of Bliss: The Complete Boxed Set

by Nina Lane

  I look at her sketchpad, the page covered with a detailed drawing of an imaginary forest. Twisting tree trunks are perforated with curved windows and doors, vines with heart-shaped leaves trail from the branches, and mushrooms sprout over the moss-covered ground.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time when I was dating your mother, and I waited over three hours at a restaurant for her?” I ask.

  “About a million times, Dad, yeah,” Bella mutters.

  “Everyone in that place was sure I’d been stood up,” I continue, ignoring her sarcasm so I can relive the memory. “Your mother didn’t call or text, and I had no idea where she was. Some men would have thought she’d forgotten or that it was a lousy break-up. But I waited. I knew she’d show up eventually.

  “And she did, apologizing over and over because her phone was dead, and she didn’t have her charger with her, and she hadn’t memorized my number. But someone at Jitter Beans had called in sick and she had to help cover their shift. And she hadn’t called the restaurant because she couldn’t remember the name of it, so she’d hurried up and down State Street, going into half a dozen different restaurants until she found me. Because she knew I’d still be waiting.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Bella sighs. “And you and Mom, like, saw each other across the crowded room or whatever, and she ran over to leap into your arms or something, and you probably had some goopy kiss. And then you stayed at the restaurant for hours, unable to take your eyes off each other, eating and talking and drinking wine. And it was all so disgustingly romantic that you paid the owner to let you stay past closing before you brought Mom home well after two in the morning, but please, God in heaven, don’t tell me what you did after that.”

  I’ll never tell anyone, though that particular memory still simmers hot at the back of my mind.

  “My point,” I tell my daughter dryly, “is that I waited for her. It wasn’t the first time I’d waited for her, and it was far from the last. But I’d have waited longer, if I had to. I’d still wait forever for your mother. And any guy who wants to be with you will do the same. If he’s not willing to wait, he’s not worth your time.”

  She doesn’t respond, her pencil moving swiftly over one of the forest tree branches.

  “The right guy will not tell you one thing and then go do something else,” I say. “He won’t lead you on. He won’t break promises. He won’t lie, cheat, or go after another girl when you’re not around. He’ll be honest with you. He’ll open doors for you, look you in the eye when he’s talking to you, and work hard to make things right for you. He’ll laugh at your jokes, want to fix all your problems, and give you his jacket when you’re cold.”

  I push to my feet as Liv approaches from the gate.

  “And,” I tell Bella, “the right guy will always let your dad win at football.”

  A smile tugs at Bella’s mouth. She continues drawing, but the lines on her forehead ease and her pencil doesn’t dig quite so hard into the paper.

  “Half an hour until takeoff,” Liv says. “They should start boarding in about ten minutes.”

  She starts to pass me to return to her seat. The scent of her—peaches and vanilla—fills my head, the air between us warming with her body heat.

  I slide my hand around her waist and pull her closer, pressing my mouth swiftly against hers. She surrenders easily, putting her hand on my chest as she returns the kiss. When we part, the promise of later still heats her dark eyes.

  “Hey, Dad.” Nicholas pulls an earbud out of his ear and indicates his phone. “Aunt Kelsey says she can get me a few college credits if I work with her and Uncle Archer on the Spiral Project this summer.”

  “Great. Just make sure the credits will transfer to the colleges you’re interested in applying to.”

  “What did Kelsey say you could do?” Liv asks Nicholas.

  “Some of the forecasting and modeling.” Nicholas scrolls on his phone. “But Uncle Archer still won’t let me drive.”

  I make a mental note to thank my brother.

  We return to our seats to wait for the boarding call. A second and a lifetime have passed since Nicholas and Bella were born. Years of school, sporting events, gymnastics, homework, science fairs, assemblies, vacations, music performances, contests, friendships, and holidays are like a spinning kaleidoscope in our past.

  Nicholas is almost a high-school senior, poised on the brink of adulthood, and Bella is ending her freshman year with a well-deserved reputation as a dynamic, ambitious force.

  It’s both extraordinary and scary watching our children learning how to make their own way in the world. Over the years, I’ve fought hard to stop myself from running in to fix every problem they’ve faced.

  It hasn’t always been easy—my instinct to both protect and rescue my wife has naturally extended to our children—but Nicholas and Bella are strong, confident, intelligent young adults who are learning how to navigate the complexities of the world.

  And though I’ve had to retreat instead of racing forward to rescue them at every turn, I’ve made sure they both know Liv and I are always ready to help, support, advise, and fight for them—both when they ask and sometimes when they don’t.

  “Pre-boarding will begin now for Flight 532,” a voice announces over the loudspeaker.

  The travelers crowded around the gate begin making their way to the door. Liv reaches for her travel bag.

  “I got it, Mom.” Nicholas grabs Liv’s bag and pushes to his feet.

  “Thanks, honey.” Liv reaches out to brush his hair away from his eyes.

  She does that often with the maternal remark that Nicholas’s overlong hair drives her nuts, but I know it’s really an excuse to touch him without being too mushy.

  Nicholas pulls away from her with a grumble, but steps aside so she can precede him to the gate. He follows, hefting both her bag and his backpack. Nicholas’s protectiveness of his mother has grown stronger over the years, and I see it intensifying the closer he gets to moving away from home.

  Good kids. The best, both of them.

  After putting our carry-ons in the overhead bins, I sit beside Liv. She rests her hand on top of mine. As always, being close to her settles my heartbeat and eases my breathing. Like I’m sitting next to a pool of cool, clear water rippling with sunlight.

  I turn my palm upward so I can wind our fingers together. Over the years, throughout the craziness of our daily lives, careers, travel, child-rearing, and all the happy chaos and painful challenges that life brings, I’ve always held on to one unbreakable truth.

  At the end of the day, she’ll always be waiting for me. The girl who lit an eternal fire right in the center of my heart. The beauty who saved me and became my reason for being. The wife who taught me the meaning of strength and courage. The woman who is my home, the place where the stars shine so bright we can see into eternity.

  My Liv will always be right here.

  EPILOGUE TWO

  OLIVIA

  THE WONDERLAND CAFÉ IS ALIVE WITH chatter and laughter. Though I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve come into the café over the years, I still love the moment when I step inside. The fragrant aromas of cake and chocolate linger in the air, and the French doors are open to the outside terrace.

  Kelsey is sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee and her tablet, her eyes narrowed behind her rimless glasses.

  “Problem?” I ask, stowing my bag under the counter and reaching for a clean apron.

  “No, just might have to hit the road again sooner than I thought.” She turns the screen toward me to show me the radar. “Convergence of activity over northeast Kansas we should check out.”

  “Can I go with you this time?” Bella comes down the stairs, her order pad in one hand. “Nicholas got to go on the last one.”

  Kelsey glances at me with a little shrug, as if to say, “Okay with me, if it’s okay wit
h you.”

  “I’ll talk it over with Dad,” I promise Bella, not exactly loving the idea of my daughter chasing storms but knowing Archer and Kelsey will watch over her like the overprotective hawks they’ve always been.

  “Is your grad student Zach going along?” Bella asks Kelsey a little too casually.

  “Yes, but if Uncle Archer sees him talking to you…” Kelsey’s voice trails off ominously as she packs up her things and stands. “There will be a whole different kind of thunderbolts and lightning.”

  “I thought you liked that guy Jake,” I say to Bella.

  “Nah, I’m done with him.” She shakes her head and makes a noise of disgust. “Turns out he lies and doesn’t know how to wait for a girl.”

  Kelsey and I exchange glances, both of us pleased but unsurprised that Bella wants nothing to do with a boy like that. After all, when Dean and Archer West are your male role models, you quickly learn to set your expectations very high.

  “Mom, did you get my text?” Bella asks after Kelsey leaves. “Kylie and a few others are going to the mall and movies tonight. Okay if I go?”

  “Yes, if you finish your chores first.”

  Bella rolls her eyes, but nods her agreement. She picks up a tray filled with a teapot and several sprinkled cake pops, then heads into the Munchkin Land Room.

  “Hey, Liv, can you take this to table three?” Allie pushes through the kitchen doors, balancing a tray of sandwiches. “The girls are going to be here any second, and we have to pick up Brent by two or we’re going to hit a bunch of traffic.”

  “Sure.” I round the counter to take the tray.

  After delivering the sandwiches, I return to the front counter where Bella is ringing up a customer’s order of brownies.

  “Hi, Aunt Liv.”

  The simultaneous chorus comes from the front door, which opens on a rush of hot summer air. Allie and Brent’s twin daughters come barreling into the café, all long-legged, energetic nine-year-old girls with their auburn ponytails swinging like flames behind them.

  “Hi, Bella,” they say in unison as they clamber onto stools at the counter. “Is Mom here?”

  “She’s getting her stuff together.” Bella pours two glasses of root beer and places them in front of the girls.

  “Have a great time,” she says. “I love Door County.”

  “Mom said in the fall we all might be able to go together,” Sophie suggests. “Nicholas, too.”

  “Definitely,” Livvie adds. “He said he’d go with us on that bike trail this year, the one that leads to the apple farm.”

  Both girls give happy, little sighs at the thought of trekking through the fall foliage and picking apples with Nicholas.

  “Did you get a copy of Uncle Dean’s newest book for us?” Livvie asks me.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I take a slim paperback out of my bag under the counter and pass it to them. “Be sure you let him know how you like it.”

  “Oh, we’ll love it, I’m sure.” Sophie admires the cover, which contains a cartoon image of a young knight beneath the title Sir Cumference: The Knight Who Made the Round Table.

  Dean’s Daze of Knights series of chapter books, each one centering around a different young apprentice—Sir Prize (the knight who always does the unexpected), Sir Loin (the knight who really wanted to be a gourmet chef), Sir Kull (the knight who always goes back to where he started), and Sir Real (the dreamy, artistic knight)—has proven extremely popular among the under-ten set, and Professor West has become something of a local celebrity with his frequent visits to school classrooms and libraries. Sophie and Livvie remain his most loyal and devoted fans.

  “I’m ready.” Allie bustles through the kitchen doors. “Girls, we have to swing by the house and get your father’s shaving kit, so let’s hustle. Liv, Ruby’s order is all set to go. Thanks so much for holding down the fort.”

  “No problem. We’ve got it covered.”

  The twins clamber off the stools to hug both Bella and me goodbye before they follow Allie out the front door. Bella and I continue working until our shifts end, then we gather up boxes of cakes and cookies and take them over to the pottery shop Mrs. Potts’ Place.

  Half of the building is an art gallery where local artists display and sell paintings, pottery, and sculptures, and the other half is a working studio.

  “Hi, Ruby.” I set the boxes down on a long table where Ruby Potts is arranging a flower display. “The place looks great.”

  “Thanks.” Ruby wipes her hands on her clay-streaked apron and smiles. “Noah’s bringing in a few things from the back, and we should be all set for the new exhibit.”

  “Did you get my bowl fired?” Bella asks her.

  “Yes, it’s on the shelf, ready to go.”

  Bella goes into the studio to find the bowl she made last week. The back door opens, and Noah Potts enters, carrying a framed painting.

  “Hey, Liv.” He sets the painting beside the counter and peers eagerly at the boxes. “Did you bring the bee cakes?”

  “Of course, and there’s an extra one for you.” I open a box and show him the mini fondant-covered cakes, each decorated with a little honey bee and a flower. Noah reaches for one, and Ruby shakes her head at him.

  “Do you need me to stay and help set up?” I ask her.

  “No, we’re covered.”

  Noah leans over his wife’s shoulder and presses a kiss to her cheek while sliding one hand toward the bee cakes. Ruby gives his hand a gentle pat.

  “Later,” she says sternly.

  He groans. “You’re kiln me, honey.”

  I grin as Ruby rolls her eyes at me.

  “Are you and Bella coming tomorrow for our Souper Bowl throwing event?” she asks me. “We’re giving all the bowls to the library for their fundraising benefit.”

  “Sure. Dean also offered to transport the bowls, if you need help.”

  Bella returns from the studio with her blue-and-orange glazed bowl, which we all admire before she and I say our goodbyes and head back to the Butterfly House.

  After leaving Bella at home with her chore instructions, I return downtown. I walk along a path to the lake’s edge, where a wooden dock extends out into the water. Paddle boats, canoes, and kayaks sit on the shore for rental, though a number of them are still out on the lake.

  Nicholas is pulling a kayak onto the shore, his dark hair sun-streaked, his skin tanned, his lanky body clad in his standard summer attire of Bermuda shorts and a faded T-shirt.

  Archer, dressed in similar clothes, is stretched out on a nearby bench, drinking from a carton of chocolate milk.

  “No way, man,” he’s telling Nicholas. “Superman is just an overgrown Boy Scout. Batman had to learn how to be a hero.”

  “Dude, Batman doesn’t have a single super power,” Nicholas argues. “Superman can fly. What the heck is cooler than that?”

  “Without his powers, Superman would be nothing.”

  “Without his gadgets, Batman would be nothing.” Nicholas tosses a set of oars onto the grass and wipes his sweaty forehead with his arm. “The fact is that Superman is a better superhero. I mean, Batman couldn’t even put the Joker away. What’s up with that? All these years and the Joker is still running wild? Oh, hey, Mom.”

  “Hello, gentlemen.” I sit on the bench next to Archer. “Sorry for interrupting the great debate.”

  “Who would you pick?” Archer asks me.

  “Well, from a woman’s perspective, I’m going to have to go with the strong, upstanding hero who will sweep me into his arms and fly away with me.”

  “Mom.” Nicholas shakes his head. “It’s not about a romance. It’s about which one is the best hero.”

  “The best hero is the one who knows there’s always a romance,” I tell my son.

  “Dude,” Archer says. “She has a point.”

  Nicholas sighs and
goes to the shore to retrieve a paddleboat.

  Archer gestures to the chocolate milk. “Want one?”

  “No thanks. How was the kayaking?”

  “Great, especially considering I beat Dean in a race to the north shore.”

  I smile. “And what’s his take on that?”

  “He says he won in a photo finish, even though I had a good two yards on him.” Archer shrugs. “But he’ll want to impress you with the story of his epic win, so you might want to just go with it.”

  “I’ll do that,” I agree solemnly.

  “Hey, Mom?” Nicholas approaches us again, glancing at his watch. “I told Pete I’d take his shift until seven, so I won’t be home for dinner. Okay if I go to a bonfire after work? Henry said a bunch of people are meeting over at the south side beach. Dad said to ask you.”

  “Yes, but be home by one, and please be careful.”

  It’s a mantra I’ve repeated to both our children endlessly, and while it doesn’t mitigate my natural tendency to worry about them, I’m learning to let them both go and find their own way. After all, I had to do the same thing once upon a time.

  “Okay, thanks.” Nicholas makes his way back to the rental shack, where two teenaged girls are waiting to either rent a boat or find an excuse to talk to him.

  “I’ll swing by the bonfire later and check on them,” Archer tells me, tossing the empty milk container into the trash.

  “Thanks, Archer. Did Dean go to Java Works?”

  “Yeah, he said he’d meet you there.”

  After saying goodbye to him and Nicholas, I take out my phone and send my son a quick “I love you” text, so I won’t embarrass him by actually saying it in front of other people.

  As I walk to Java Works, I realize that both our children have plans for the evening, which means Dean and I will have several hours alone together.

  Ooo. Nice. Very nice.

  A flutter of warmth travels through my blood. I approach the coffee-house, the warmth intensifying as I see a certain handsome professor standing on the sidewalk near the door. He’s looking across the street, his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts and his body relaxed as he leans his shoulder against a lamppost.