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towards me at lightning-fast speed, barreling into the front of me and wrapping her arms around my
waist, squeezing on for dear life. I stand there with a look of horror on my face as I stare at the top of
her head, unable to move.
Finally, she pulls away from me and beams at me with a huge smile on her face.
"Hi there, Mrs. Ellis! I'm so excited to finally meet you! You're so pretty! And I love your shirt!
Wow, you're really young! You don't have any wrinkles on your face like my mom does! I love your
hair! When I grow up, I want to look just like you!"
Is this some new form of warfare? Kill the enemy with kindness? Her skills are no match for
mine. NO MATCH! And she speaks in nothing but exclamations. I don't know whether to challenge
her to a cage fighting match or braid her hair.
"Your son is really nice. And really cute! But you probably know that already," Brooklyn
continued.
"Eeeew, gross," Gavin mutters next to me.
I reach out blindly for him and fling my arm around his shoulder, pulling him into my side in a
crushing one-armed hug.
"He is cute, isn't he?" I tell Brooklyn. "And he's such a good boy. So nice and polite and did you
know he told me he's going to marry me when he grows up?"
Gavin lets out a gasp and whines in a loud whisper.
"Mooooooooom! Cut it out!"
Brooklyn claps her hands together in glee. "Oh my gosh! That is the sweetest thing EVER! You are
the best mom in the world. He talks about you all the time," she explains.
I'm totally going to cry. Right here in the middle of this fourth grade class. I am going to curl
up in the fetal position sucking my thumb and sobbing like a baby.
I takes me about ten minutes to compose myself, but I manage to do it as well as pass out the
cupcakes and juice. Oh, and I tell Brooklyn she can call the house anytime she likes.
"Alright, I hope this makes up for the fact that I tried to act like Liz and Jim this Valentine's Day.
Open your eyes," Carter tells me later that evening after the dishes from dinner have been cleared.
I slowly open my eyes and on the table in front of me is a vase full of a dozen long-stemmed pink
roses, my favorite, and a thin box wrapped with a red bow on top. I quickly tear into the box, lift the
lid, and my breath catches in my throat as I look at what's inside.
"Where did you find this?" I whisper, trying to hold back the tears I can feel pooling in my eyes.
"I found it at your dad's. I told him what was going on with girls suddenly calling the house, and
he pulled out a box of things from when you and Gavin used to live with him," Carter explains as he
scoots his chair closer to mine and rests his chin on my shoulder so we can both look at the eight-by-
ten frame in my hands.
Back when Gavin was around four, right before I found Carter again, he and I used to have
weddings at night after his bath. It was a huge production. He would come into the living room, tell
me it was time for our wedding, and then we'd stand up in the middle of the room, exchange gifts
(which usually consisted of two stuffed animals that we traded), and say our vows.
"Mommy, do you wanna marry me?"
"I do!"
"And I wanna marry you, so yay! We're married! Let's go on a honeymoon to the kitchen and
have pop and cookies!"
I had no idea my dad took a picture of one of our weddings. In the frame, Carter blew up a profile
picture of Gavin, in a pair of Spider Man pajamas, and me, in a t-shirt and yoga pants, standing in my
dad's living room facing each other, holding hands. How had I ever thought for one minute that Carter
didn't know me or that he wouldn't pick out the most amazing Valentine's Day gift ever?
"Carter, this is amazing!" I tell him as I take my eyes off of the picture from what seems like so
many years ago to look at the man I love.
He takes my face in his hands and places a gentle kiss on my lips.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. No matter what, Gavin will always be your little boy. The first
woman he ever asked to marry him. Even when he's in fifth grade and those little bitches pull out the
big guns and start getting boob jobs and vaginal rejuvenation surgeries."
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