Every year on our anniversary, Nick gives me a bouquet of yellow roses. The bouquets get bigger every year, with one yellow blossom for each year we’ve known each other and, always, a single red rose in the middle, to represent all the love we’ve shared.
The tradition started not with an anniversary, but a birthday. We had only been a couple for about three months when I turned twenty-five. Nick, finally recovered from two major surgeries in the past year and in remission again, had taken me out on the boat ride he’d promised me. We got up early, while it was still dark, so we could see the sun rise, then shared a picnic breakfast on his boat. That was when he gave me my first bouquet of yellow roses - a dozen of them, with one red rose in the middle. “I looked this up,” he explained to me, all proud of himself. “Yellow means friendship, so I got you yellow. And red means… red means ‘I love you.’ So, yeah… a red one too.”
I carried a similar bouquet down the aisle on May 14, 2010, the day I married my best friend.
The fourteenth of May isn’t just our wedding anniversary. It’s also the anniversary of our first kiss, during what could be considered our first date. Not that we considered it a date at the time. No, it actually started as a simple celebratory dinner. It had been six weeks since Nick’s amputation surgery, and we were celebrating a major milestone in his recovery: learning to walk without crutches on a prosthetic leg. I had driven him to physical therapy that day, and for the first time, he’d felt confident enough to let me come in with him. Watching him take those first few wobbly steps, I felt like a proud parent. “We need to celebrate!” I said afterwards. Nick needed some convincing, but I finally talked him into a “quiet night out” - pizza and a movie. We went to Leonardi’s, then to the old Empress Cinema, where he kissed me during the credits of King Kong.
For our twentieth anniversary, I decided to recreate that first date.
Both our first date and our wedding fell on Fridays, but May 14, 2030 was a Tuesday. Nick and I had spent the day working at the camp, getting it ready for the summer sessions. He puttered around outside, overseeing the maintenance of the grounds and facilities, while I sat in my office, making phone calls and poring over paperwork, so we didn’t see much of each other until that afternoon. When it was almost time to leave so we could pick up the kids from school, I popped my head into the lodge’s rec room, where my daughter Caitlin was training the new crop of camp counselors. Cait had been working as a counselor at Camp Lucky Fin every summer since its opening three years prior. Fresh out of her third year in the nursing program at the University of Tampa, she’d agreed to put in one more summer as the head counselor before she started the search for a nursing position the following year.
“Have you seen your dad around anywhere?” I asked.
Cait didn’t bat an eye when I called Nick her dad. Technically, he was her stepfather, but he’d been more of a father to her in the past two decades than Jamie ever would. “Not lately,” she replied, then went back to what she’d been telling the trainees without missing a beat. Cait had always been a people person, blessed with “the gift of gab,” as the Irish say. I couldn’t have been prouder of her.
As I walked out of the lodge, I texted her twin, Delaine, to make sure she was on her way, then Nick to find out where he was. He didn’t text back, so I fired up one of the golf carts we use to get around the camp and went to find him. I was not at all surprised to see his red Bucs cap sitting in the front seat of a cart that was parked outside the aquatic center. I went in to find him swimming laps in the pool, his t-shirt and belongings strewn along the side. I picked up his phone and glanced at it - he hadn’t even read my text yet. “Nick!” I called.
He pulled his face out of the water and looked around, befuddled. Then he spotted me. “Oh, hey, babe!”
“Hey. Did you forget we’re supposed to pick up our children in-” I checked the time on his phone. “-ten minutes?”
Nick swam over to the side of the pool. Propping his elbows on the edge, he looked up at me and gave me his trademark grin. “Oh… whoops!”
I shook my head at him, but I couldn’t help but smile back. He was as irresistible as always, and impossible to stay mad at. I couldn’t blame him for losing track of time; I knew how much he enjoyed being in the water, how freeing it was for him, and besides, it was good exercise. He needed it. As he hoisted himself out of the pool, I noticed that his belly hung over the waistband of his shorts. Wordlessly, I handed him a towel and waited while he dried himself off enough to put on his prosthesis. “Did you have a good swim?”
“Yeah,” he said, breathless. “Sorry, I thought I’d have time to cool off and get a few laps in before it was time to leave.”
“It’s okay.” I checked his phone again before giving it back to him. “It won’t kill the kids to wait a few minutes.”
We walked outside and took his cart back to the lodge, where our car was parked. “I’ll drive,” I said, slipping behind the steering wheel. Nick left a big, wet butt print in the passenger seat on our way to the elementary school, where Adrienne was in fifth grade and Casey, kindergarten. It was the only year they’d be in the same school. They came out together when we pulled up in front of the school. Casey wore a big grin and a little bookbag, strapped neatly to both shoulders, while Adrienne walked with her backpack slung casually over one shoulder, her straight blonde hair blowing in the breeze. Long and lean, with Nick’s angelic looks and devilish smile, she was getting far too pretty for her own good. She was just eleven, but could easily pass for thirteen.
Casey, on the other hand, was small for his age, but agile; after tossing his bookbag into the backseat, he climbed up into his booster seat and buckled himself in with no trouble. “You’re late!” he announced matter-of-factly. “I was the last kid in my class to get picked up.” Then, before either of us could apologize, he launched into a long, rambling story about everything he’d done in kindergarten that day. It lasted almost the whole way home. When he finally stopped to take a breath, I asked Adrienne how her day had been. Her answer was the same as always.
“Fine.”
“What did you learn today?” Nick asked.
“Nothing.”
Adrienne was at that age when most kids stop sharing.
“Go change your clothes,” I told both kids when we got home. “Your dad and I are taking you out for a special dinner tonight.”
Nick looked at me incredulously. “We are?”
I just smiled at him. “Yes, we are.” I waited until Adrienne and Casey had run back to their rooms, then added under my breath, “There’ll be plenty of time for you and me later.”
“Yes, there will be,” Nick smirked back. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what he had up his sleeve. He’d been so nonchalant about it all day that if it hadn’t been for him telling me “Happy Anniversary” upon waking up that morning, I would have guessed he’d forgotten it was our twentieth. “So where are we going for dinner? Should I dress nice, or…?”
“Casual’s fine.” I put on a pair of cropped slacks and a nice, but comfortable blouse made out of a flowy material that was forgiving on my curves. Nick changed into jeans and a button-down shirt that barely buttoned down his middle. “Leave it out,” I said, as he stood in front of the mirror in our bedroom, debating over whether or not to tuck it in. I slid my arm around his waist, looking at the two of us together. We sure looked a lot older than we had on that first “date,” twenty-six years earlier. It was crazy to think we’d more than doubled in age since then. Nick had turned fifty in January, me in March. There were streaks of silver in his blonde hair and lines on his tanned, leathery face. The red in my hair was starting to fade, while the wrinkles in my skin stood out more than ever. Having a five-year-old kept me young, but realizing I could be Casey’s grandma made me feel old, especially when I compared myself to the other mothers who dropped their children off at kindergarten.
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Nick’s arm came around me from behind. I looked up to see him studying my reflection in the mirror.
I sighed. “Oh, nothing.” Then, realizing I sounded just like Adrienne, I added, “Just thinking about what a nice life we’ve made for ourselves. We did good, Stumpy.” I gave him a squeeze, smiling at his reflection. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, Ren.” He bent his head and kissed the top of mine. “Here’s to twenty more years, huh?”
So he definitely knew it was our twentieth…
“At least twenty more,” I emphasized, laying my head on his shoulder. “Come on… the kids will be waiting.”
“I still don’t see why we have to bring our kids along on our date,” he grumbled as we walked out of the bedroom.
I smiled. “You will.”
I knew he didn’t really mind the kids tagging along; he loved spending time with all four of them. It was rare for the whole family to be together these days, with Cait in college and Delaine on tour with her band. Nick didn’t know it, but they’d both be meeting us at the restaurant. “I’ll drive,” I said, signaling for Adrienne and Casey to climb into the backseat of my car. With a shrug, Nick resigned himself to riding shotgun. “Did your dad ever tell you about the car he had when we were first dating?” I asked the kids, looking into the rear view mirror as I backed out of the driveway.
They both shrugged. “No?”
I turned to Nick, who was smiling. “The Jag?” he said, and I nodded.
“It was a silver Jaguar - don’t ask me what model - and it was the coolest car I’d ever ridden in. He let me drive it on our first date.” Stopping at the corner, I flipped on my blinker and glanced at Nick again. I was hoping I had sparked a memory.
He smirked at me and said to the kids, “Only ‘cause your mom didn’t trust me to drive.”
“For good reason!” As I made the turn onto Hillsborough Avenue, I reached out to pat his thigh, my palm curving around the sleek, carbon fiber socket that sheathed his stump. The prosthesis had become such a part of him that it was difficult to remember the days when it felt foreign to me, even harder to recall the period of time when he refused to let me touch it at all. We had come so far since those first, awkward encounters. Twenty years of marriage makes a couple so comfortable around each other that I tended to forget how self-conscious he used to be.
It had taken a lot of coaxing to get him to come out with me that night. Even though I succeeded, he slumped down in his seat on the way to the restaurant, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses so he wouldn’t be recognized. We sat in our usual booth in the back corner, where he could face the wall and avoid eye contact with the rest of the world.
I wondered if the old wrap-around booth was still there. Leonardi’s had been completely renovated some years back, after the original owner passed away. He left the place to his daughter, who, despite having been raised by a restaurateur, didn’t seem to know much about running a restaurant. After a few failed attempts to turn the shabby pizza parlor into a posh Italian bistro, she shut it down and sold the building to a new owner, who’d opened a French café. I’d paid an exorbitant amount of money to rent the place out for the evening and hire Mr. Leonardi’s daughter to decorate and cater our anniversary dinner. The old brick oven was still there, she’d assured me over the phone, and she had her father’s famous recipes. I hoped the pizza would taste as good as I remembered it.
Nick was again wearing sunglasses, more to keep the sun out of his eyes than for the purpose of disguise that evening. He pushed them down the bridge of his nose and raised his eyebrows, giving me a very AJ-like look, as I pulled into the newly-paved parking lot of the old Leonardi’s. I waggled my own brows back at him, trying to suppress as smile as I slid into a space right up front.
“Where are we?” Casey wondered, looking out the window. He was the only child I’d left out of my plans, not wanting him to spill the beans to Nick.
I smiled at my son in the rearview mirror. “This is where your dad and I had our first date.”
Casey wrinkled his nose. “Couldn’t we go to Chuck E. Cheese?”
I laughed. “Trust me,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “The pizza at this place is way better.”
Nick gave me a quizzical look, which I ignored as I slid out of the car and opened the back door to let Casey out of his booster seat. Nick and Adrienne climbed out on the other side and came around the car to meet us. “You sure this place is open?” Nick asked, frowning as he looked around the empty parking lot. The twins must have parked in back, I surmised, so as not to ruin the surprise.
“Let’s find out.” I took his hand and towed him to the entrance. A sign on the door said, Closed for private event. I opened the door anyway and held it open, ushering Adrienne and Casey in. Nick narrowed his eyes at me as he followed the kids inside. Letting the door close behind me, I stepped in after him. For a few seconds, we both just stopped and stared. A smile of satisfaction spread across my face as I looked around at the décor - red-and-white checked plastic tablecloths, candles burning in old beer bottles, and a big banner stretched across one wall (hiding the Parisian mural beneath it) that proclaimed, Happy 20th Anniversary, Nick and Claire! It looked like Leonardi’s again. It looked like our place.
The corner booth still sat in the back, decorated with bouquets of white balloons. A table for four was set across from it, and already seated there were a pair of lovely young ladies: our twin daughters, Caitlin and Delaine. Lainey jumped up from her seat and ran over to hug Nick, then me. I held her at an arm’s length to admire her new pixie haircut, which suited the punk rock look she’d been sporting for the last few years. She turned around to show me the back - and to show Nick the new tattoo on her left shoulder blade, a music note similar to the notes he had tattooed on his right. She shared his love of music the way Cait shared his love of sports. He slung an arm around each of their shoulders and looked at me, a broad smile on his face. “So you invited the whole family out for our date, huh?”
I pretended to check my watch - not that I was wearing one. “Jamie should be arriving from the airport any minute,” I joked.
The twins exchanged glances as Nick rolled his eyes, still grinning. “The place looks great,” he commented, looking around. “Just like it did back in the day.”
“Only with better upholstery,” I replied as I slid into the corner booth, patting the spot beside me. “Remember how that ripped vinyl would dig into the backs of your legs?”
“Not really. Guess I had good protection against that.” Nick shrugged and gave his prosthesis a pat before he scooted in next to me.
“Kids’ table’s over there,” I told Adrienne and Casey, pointing to the open seats at the table the twins had occupied. I slipped my arm around Nick’s waist and snuggled up close to him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I thought we could use some privacy on our date,” I whispered in his ear.
He snickered. “Not that all six of us could squeeze into this booth anyway.”
“That too,” I laughed.
Mr. Leonardi’s daughter, Andrea, came out of the kitchen to greet us, followed by a small wait staff who brought us piping hot pizzas and thick shakes - strawberry for me, vanilla for Nick, chocolate for the kids. The first time I’d brought Nick here, his mouth had been so full of sores from chemo, he hadn’t even been able to enjoy the pizza, but a milkshake had hit the spot. The combination of the two had been our tradition ever since.
Maybe it was just because I hadn’t had it in so long, but the food tasted even better than I remembered it. Even Casey acknowledged that it was “almost” as good as Chuck E. Cheese. We stuffed ourselves so full, we hardly had room for the anniversary cake they brought out for dessert, a two-tiered affair adorned with mounds of yellow roses and - at my request - a single red rose on top. Nick and I shared the top tier, while the kids went to work on the bottom. Somehow, we managed to make a dent in it.
We talked over dinner, sharing memories with the kids, and afterwards, I looked at Nick and said, “So, where should we go next?”
“Next?” He looked back at me suspiciously, his eyes narrowed, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He seemed to realize I was testing him. “Well… we could go to a movie…” he answered slowly. “Maybe see what’s playing at the Empress?”
Bingo. I beamed at him and replied, “Why, what a great idea! Come on, kids…”
We stopped to thank Andrea and her catering crew on the way out, and as Cait and Lainey went ahead to their cars, I turned to Nick and held up the keys. “Wanna drive?” I asked, winking at him. He grinned sheepishly and held out his hand. He must have remembered how he’d insisted on driving from the restaurant to the theater that night - his first time behind the wheel since his surgery. I’d been nervous about it then, but tonight I tossed him the keys with no problem, and we all piled into the car.
“What movie are we seeing?” Casey asked from the back seat. “Fast and Furious 15?”
I laughed. “No, sweetheart. This theater doesn’t play those kind of movies.”
“What will it be playing?” Nick wondered, wrinkling his nose as he glanced over at me. “On a Tuesday night? Do you think it will even be open?”
He hadn’t realized it yet, but I already knew The Empress Cinema would be closed - for another “private event.” I played dumb, though, and said, “Oh, I don’t know… I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
Nick nodded and turned onto the highway. Rush hour was winding down, but traffic was still stop and go. As Nick slowed to a stop behind a line of cars at a long light, he suddenly shifted the car into park and announced, “Chinese fire drill!” He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his door, and hoisted himself out of the car. Giggling, I scrambled out of my side.
“What are you doing?” I heard Adrienne squawk in alarm, as the two of us raced around the car. I beat Nick, sliding behind the wheel before he could make it around to the passenger side.
“Hurry up, Stumpy!” I shouted out the open door as he ducked his head and lowered himself into the seat, swinging his prosthetic leg in first, followed by the flesh-and-blood one. As he closed the passenger side door, I turned around and grinned at our two bewildered children. “And that, kids, is what we call a Chinese fire drill.”
“Don’t ever do that,” Nick added, wagging his finger at them. Then he looked back at me and laughed. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, remembering how I’d made him switch me seats halfway to the theater after he’d scared me with his reckless driving on that first date. At the time, I was worried about his mental state, afraid he was trying to hurt himself. Now, while our children might have been questioning our sanity, it just seemed funny.
I drove the rest of the way to the theater, which looked as deserted as the restaurant had been. The vertical sign sticking out from the front of the building was lit, spelling out EMPRESS in shimmering letters, but the parking lot was empty. Nick looked skeptically out the window. “I dunno, babe…”
Smiling to myself, I tapped his shoulder and pointed to the marquee. I never thought I’d see my name in lights, but there it was, surrounded by brightly shining bulbs.
KING KONG
HAPPY 20TH ANNIVERSARY, NICK AND CLAIRE CARTER!
I watched Nick’s face as he read the message, wanting to see the moment when he realized it was all for us. I saw his lips stretch slowly into a smile, and then he turned, shaking his head at me. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, still smiling in amazement.
I beamed back at him. “Of course I am. Why else would you have fallen in love with me?” I replied, and he laughed.
“Ugh,” Adrienne groaned from the back seat. “You guys are being really mushy tonight. You better not start making out in the middle of the movie!”
“You better not sit near us,” I shot back, snickering as I caught the revolted look she made in the rearview mirror.
“Eww!” chorused both kids.
The twins pulled into the lot in their separate cars just as we parked, and together, we walked up to the entrance of the theater. There was another sign on the door that said, Private screening - special pass required. “Do we have a special pass?” Nick joked.
“Actually…” I dug in my purse and pulled out the custom tickets I’d had printed, which had one of our wedding pictures on it, along with the date and time of the movie. “A little memento for you,” I said, passing them out to each member of our family. The owner of the theater took our tickets from inside the old-fashioned ticket booth. He had been wonderfully accommodating when I’d contacted him about renting out the theater for that night, explaining its significance in Nick’s and my relationship, as the site of our first kiss. He escorted us in to the otherwise empty theater, which looked as it had in the 1930s, with red velvet seats and curtains across the screen.
Casey and Adrienne immediately raced to the front row, while Cait and Lainey sat side by side, a few rows behind them. “Let’s sit in the back,” I whispered to Nick, and he nodded in agreement. We slipped into the very last row, a safe distance away from our kids. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we settled into the old theater seats, which felt smaller than I remembered them. The curtains slid open as the lights went down, and the white screen flickered to life.
I hadn’t expected any previews during a private screening of a hundred-year-old movie, so it caught me by surprise when, instead of the opening credits of King Kong, I saw a familiar green background with white text.
ALL AUDIENCES
BY THE MAKERS OF THE FILM
THE MARRIAGE CELEBRATED HAS BEEN RATED
PG-13 PARENTS STRONGLY CAUTIONED
Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.
SOME SEXUALITY, CRUDE HUMOR, AND ADULT LANGUAGE
Just as I started to take a second glance, the words faded, and a wedding picture of Nick and me appeared on the screen. I gasped and heard Nick chuckle beside me. Looking over at him in surprise, I asked, “Is this your doing?”
He looked back at me with wide eyes. “What? No, I thought this was all you.”
I shook my head, glancing back at the screen. “Not this part.”
“Then who…?”
Our question was answered when the voiceover began. “He was a world famous pop star,” narrated a voice that I immediately recognized as my daughter Delaine’s, over a black-and-white still of a young Nick on the stage.
“She was a dental hygienist,” Caitlin’s voice added with theatrical seriousness, and I laughed at the old photo of myself in work scrubs, holding up a dental mirror and grinning for the camera. I shook my head in amazement; where had she dug up that one?
Nick elbowed me in the side and pointed - down front, both of the twins had turned around in their seats and were grinning up at us, watching for our reactions. I gave them a thumbs up, not wanting to talk over their slideshow.
“They were from two different worlds, but fate brought them together,” it continued, showing another photo of the two of us, seated side by side at an elaborately-set dinner table. He was bald; I wore my black wig. A lump rose in my throat as I remembered the occasion - dinner with my parents, the night before my bone marrow transplant. My mother must have taken the picture.
“Theirs was a rollercoaster romance. There were ups… and downs… and times when their lives seemed to turn upside down.” I reached for Nick’s hand as the photos flashed by, noting the drastic changes in our appearances during those early years together. His head sprouted hair, while my natural red grew out. His left leg disappeared and was replaced by its robotic substitute, while my figure slimmed down and then swelled up again with baby weight. “But their relationship survived every twist and turn.”
Nick squeezed my hand, and I smiled tearfully at a picture taken at Christmas, the year before we got married, of the two of us sitting in front of the tree with the twins in our laps. Not quite a year old yet, neither of them were looking at the camera, but Nick and I were both beaming. I was wearing the engagement ring he’d given me back, while he was sporting the striped “stump sock” I’d knitted him, intending it to be a hat. Recently reunited, with Nick recovering from the car accident that had almost cost him his life, we couldn’t have been happier.
“They got married on May 14, 2010, on the anniversary of their first kiss in this very theater.” I leaned in closer to Nick as we looked at the photo of the two of us kissing on our wedding day. “Twenty years later, their family and friends want to wish them a happy anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary, Nick and Claire!” The screen cut to a video of the Littrell family - Brian, Leighanne, and Baylee - waving at us from their couch. Baylee, now close to thirty, was sandwiched in between Brian and Leighanne. They were well-coordinated, as always, with all three of them wearing blue. The look was cheesy, but the message was heartfelt. “Nick, buddy, you’ve been my best friend for thirty-seven years. Just as I’ve always felt that fate brought me to Orlando on the day we met, I believe that God brought you Claire when you needed her the most. And try as she might, Claire just couldn’t stay away from you for long.” I felt a stab of guilt in my gut as I remembered how I’d left him, our lengthy period apart, but another squeeze of my hand reassured me that all was long-forgiven. “It’s that Carter charm, I guess," Brian went on, grinning. “Same thing that made the girls scream for you back in the day.” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “But on the real tip, the two of you are a match made in Heaven. Here’s to another twenty happy years together!”
“Hear, hear!” Leighanne added, raising a glass of champagne which with to toast us.
“Any excuse for champagne,” I whispered to Nick and felt him shake with stifled laughter.
He cleared his throat and coughed, “Lush,” under his breath, making me laugh too. Leighanne had always been a sloppy drunk, more so in middle-age, but that hadn’t stopped us from being friends. All of the guys were still close, though it had been years since they’d last toured, so I wasn’t surprised to see Kevin appear onscreen next, followed by Howie and then AJ.
One by one, all of our closest friends and family members shared memories and well-wishes - on my side, there was Dianna, my best friend since junior high, and Laureen, who had worked with me and briefly dated Nick. My brother Kyle, sister-in-law Amber, and nephew Kamden all spoke, as did my mother, looking old but sounding as sharp as ever. I wished I could have seen my father sitting at her side, but I knew he was smiling down on us from Heaven - he had always liked Nick.
At the end, our four children appeared in the same frame and chorused, “Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!” Nick and I applauded as the screen faded to black, and I furtively wiped the tears from my eyes.
“What did you think?” Cait called from the front of the theater.
“Wow!” was Nick’s response. “How did you guys pull that off?”
Cait stood up and turned around so we could see her face, dragging Delaine to her feet as well. “I called all your friends, and Lainey went around and filmed them while she was touring. We’ve been working on this for weeks, ever since Mom told us what she had planned.”
Nick smiled at me, but I shook my head. “I was just as surprised by this part!” I insisted. “You got me, girls.”
“Are you actually crying, Mom?” Adrienne asked incredulously. Although she was too far away to see my face, she must have heard the emotion in my voice.
“Your mom’s more sentimental than she likes to let on,” said Nick, squeezing my shoulders. “She’s shed a few tears in this theater before.”
I laughed, leaning into him again. As if on cue, the screen sprang back to life with a grandiose overture playing over the opening credits of King Kong. “This is what I thought we were coming to see,” I whispered to Nick, as we hunkered down to watch. We held hands during the movie, like we had the first time, and at the end, when Kong fell to his death from atop the Empire State Building, Nick kissed my tears away all over again. It wasn’t so much the movie that made me cry this time; it was the nostalgia of the moment, sitting there beside the love of my life and remembering the first time he’d reciprocated my feelings for him.
I guess I am more sentimental than I like to let on.
Afterwards, we walked hand-in-hand out to the lobby, where we said goodbye to the twins, hugging and thanking them for their anniversary gift, and took the younger two out to the car. “What did you think?” I asked them on the way home - I let Nick drive the whole way this time.
“That was cool!” was Casey’s enthusiastic review. Anything with giant gorillas fighting dinosaurs was bound to meet with his approval.
You could always count on Adrienne to disagree. “That was dumb,” she said flatly. “It looked so fake!”
“It was made in 1933. For its time, the special effects were groundbreaking,” Nick explained.
Adrienne snorted. “Whatever. People must have been easily impressed back then.” (Adrienne was hard to please back then.)
When we got home, I put the kids to bed - they both had school the next morning - while Nick went to change his clothes. After I’d finished tucking Casey in and telling Adrienne goodnight, I went into our bedroom to find him, but he wasn’t there. On our bed was a single, long-stemmed yellow rose, lying on top of a shoe box. Smiling, I removed the rose and opened the box. Peeling back the pieces of tissue paper, I pulled out a pair of fuzzy, leopard-print slippers. I laughed and held them up, and that was when the note fell out and fluttered to the bedspread. Curious, I set down the slippers and picked up the slip of paper.
It’s been twenty-seven years since I first laid eyes on you, it started, and I can still remember you were wearing a pair of these on your feet.
My mouth dropped open, as I suddenly remembered the pair of ratty, leopard-print slippers I’d once owned. Dianna had given them to me as part of a get-well care package after my leukemia relapsed, and I’d shuffled up and down the halls of the hospital in them - the very hospital in which I’d met Nick. His handwritten words blurred before my eyes as they suddenly prickled with tears. I couldn’t believe he remembered those.
Wiping my eyes, I struggled to read the rest of the note.
I should have known then that I’d be wild about you one day, it went on, and I laughed at his cheesy pun. Happy anniversary, love. Follow the roses for the rest of your gift.
A smile of anticipation spread across my face. A treasure hunt! Nick had done something like this for me once before, and he’d done a good job of it. I was eager to see what awaited me this time. I looked around the room and, finding nothing else, went out into the hallway. There was another yellow rose on the landing, leading me downstairs. I stooped to pick it up and found a folded piece of paper underneath it. Sinking down to sit on the top step, I unfolded the note. A ticket stub fell out onto my lap. In the dim light filtering up the stairway from downstairs, I had to squint to make out the faded words printed on the worn paper.
Presenting
KING KONG
8:00 PM Fri 5/14/04
I had to look twice at the date just to make sure it was right. May 14, 2004. It was the ticket stub from our first date, the date I’d tried to recreate that night. I couldn’t believe Nick had saved it all those years. He was more sentimental than he liked to let on, too. Smiling to myself, I read the note.
Twenty-six years ago, I felt sort of like this stub - worn out, worthless, and missing a huge piece of myself. I felt like half a person. Cheesy as it sounds, you made me feel whole again. You’re my other half. Keep going till you’ve got the whole gift!
I couldn’t help but laugh through the tears - sure, the words were cheesy, but they were also true. After the amputation, I had worried about Nick’s emotional state more than his physical condition. While I knew that the incision on his stump would heal and he’d learn to walk again on an artificial leg, I wasn’t sure how long it would take for the emotional scars to fade. Despite our closeness, months passed before he was comfortable being intimate with me, let alone anyone else.
I put the note and the ticket stub in my pocket as, clinging to the banister, I hoisted myself back to my feet. Walking down the stairs, it occurred to me that I could relate more to the physical limitations Nick had experienced these days than I had back then. In my heart, I was still half my true age, but some days, my body felt double its fifty years. The joints in my knees and hips ached as I made my way slowly to the bottom, marveling over the fact that Nick, also fifty, did this several times each day on one good leg. Despite having put on some weight, he was still in relatively good shape, and even after everything he’d been through, I had a feeling he would outlive me. Selfishly, I hoped he would - I couldn’t stand the thought of living without him.
At the bottom of the stairs, I found another flower and another note. This one was wrapped around something small, hard, and roughly square-shaped. I knew what it was even before I unfolded it, and when I saw the piece of braided red and yellow yarn poking out, I started to laugh. I gave the yarn a pull, and the homemade necklace fell out into my hand. It looked like one of Casey’s kindergarten projects, this chain of yarn strung with a piece of cereal that had been coated with Mod Podge to preserve it, but it was much older and meant even more to me. Smiling as I slipped it over my head, I remembered the morning Nick had given it to me, the morning after his spontaneous marriage proposal. It was a makeshift engagement ring, meant to hold the place of the one I wore around my finger, the ring we had yet to pick out. I ran the tip of my finger over its rough surface, then touched the smooth, canary diamond in the center of my real engagement ring, which hadn’t lost its shine. It still sparkled in the light as I held up the note to read it.
Twenty-five years ago, I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. It may have taken you five years to actually follow through on that, but I’ll never regret asking. I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Now I’m waiting to give you the rest of your gift. Hurry up, slowpoke!
I laughed and followed the trail of roses to the back door, where I found another memento and another note. On and on it went, leading me outside and down to the beach. Here I could follow the path of Nick’s footprints, but every few feet, I would find a yellow rose sticking out of the sand, each accompanied by a heartfelt note and a token of our love, one for each year we’d been together.
Twenty-one years ago, I held your hand as, together, we witnessed a miracle - two of them, actually. It didn’t turn out the way either of us had planned, but I’m so blessed I got to be there when Caitlin and Delaine were born. They may not be mine biologically, but it doesn’t matter - the bond I’ve felt with those two little girls since they were babies is stronger than blood.
This folded around a photo of us on Halloween, 2009. I was dressed up as Ariel, the little mermaid, Nick was Prince Eric, and we were each holding one of the twins: Flounder the fish (Cait) and Sebastian the crab (Lainey). That had been one magical night, in ways you’ll never see in a Disney movie. I smirked, feeling myself heat up at the memory of making love to Nick in his pool.
Twenty years ago, I watched my beautiful bride walk down the aisle - toward me this time, instead of away. We’ve shared so many wonderful memories in the two decades since that it’s impossible to rank them, but our wedding day was definitely one of the best days of my life. Every May 14th, I look forward to celebrating another year of marriage, and tonight is no exception. Keep walking, Claire… keep walking toward me.
That tucked inside our wedding program. In the fading twilight, I took time to look at the program, to read the names of the people who had been a part of our wedding and remember the details of what ranked as one of the best days of my life as well.
Eleven years ago, you gave me the best gift I’ll ever get - our daughter Adrienne. It may sound egotistical, but I can’t explain the unique joy I get out of looking into her face and seeing my own features. I don’t need to, though, because you already know. You knew, and yet you gave up that privilege so that I could have a chance to experience the same pleasure. I’m a lucky man, to have a wife who loves me so selflessly.
Sniffling, I shook my head at that one. Didn’t Nick know that I got the same joy out of seeing him in Adrienne? My husband had blessed me with a beautiful, charismatic child with the looks and voice of an angel. She was as much a gift to me as she was to him. I smiled at the picture he’d put inside the note. Adrienne had to be about eleven months old in it because she was learning to walk, but she looked younger - born several weeks early, she was still small for her age, and her wispy blonde hair was so fine back then that she looked bald until she was almost two. Her big, blue eyes were wide with the effort of trying to keep her balance, but Nick was walking behind her, holding both of her hands. He happened to have been wearing shorts that day, and the sight of his prosthetic leg reminded me of the long hours he’d spent in physical therapy, relearning to walk between a pair of parallel bars. He had helped all four of our children learn to walk, but this picture in particular really brought it back full circle. It had always been one of my favorites.
Five years ago, we flew across the ocean and brought home a baby boy. Casey completed our family. Yours, mine, and ours. He may not have either of our DNA, but he brings out the best in both of us. I’m so glad we made that journey, babe.
I pulled out the Polaroid picture taken by the adoption agency on the day we arrived in Moscow to meet Casey. They’d captured the perfect moment: me cradling Casey for the first time, while Nick stood with his arms around me, looking eagerly over my shoulder. He adored our three daughters just as much as I did, but for a man, there’s just something special about having a son. As Nick had written in his note, Casey made our family feel complete.
My journey down the beach was almost complete, too. I followed the trail of flowers to its end, collecting four more roses for the past four years of our marriage. They took me down to the waterline. And there, with the tide lapping at his heels, stood my husband, holding the last rose, a long-stemmed red one. He held it out to me, and I took it, tucking it into the middle of the bouquet I’d collected: twenty-seven yellow roses, one for each year we’d known each other, and a red rose to represent our love.
“Happy anniversary, Claire,” he said, smiling, and even though my hands were full of flowers and photos and all the other tangible reminders of our relationship, I threw my arms around him and hugged him as hard as I could. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of the sea on his skin.
“Happy anniversary, Nick.”
He released me slowly and led me to a blanket he’d spread out on the sand, where we could sit down and look through all the keepsakes, sharing in the memories of our life together as the sun set on our anniversary. As its last, dying rays dwindled and the sky grew dark, he stretched out on his back and patted a spot on the blanket next to him. But before I lay down beside him, I glanced back at the trail of footprints we’d left in the sand, each one a part of the journey we’d taken to get to this point. If I had looked closely when it was still light, I might have seen the places where Nick had stumbled along the way, or where I had strayed from the path he’d laid out for me. But in the end, we’d both made it here, and that was what mattered.
With a sigh of contentment, I lay down at his side. It was quite comfortable, lying in the soft sand, looking up at the stars in the sky overhead and listening to the waves washing ashore. I could smell the brine on the sea breeze and taste the salt on my tongue, but the best part was just being there with Nick. I reached for his hand in the darkness and felt his fingers lace through mine. “I love you,” I whispered and waited for his reply.
“I love you, too.”
***
