It was then that I saw it on the menu, and for the first time since my grandfather’s death, I laughed at the thought of him. “Forget the pepperoni, kid,” he used to say, “Corned beef is the way to go.”
I would never try it and always made a face in disgust.
Today, I came here alone. “I’ll have the pizza with corned beef,” I said to the waitress.
She was older and smiled. “You must be Irish.”
I nodded, proud of my roots.
As I waited for my pizza, I pulled the note from my pocket that was in the safety deposit box along with the ring. Do not open this until you smile when you think of me was written across it.
I set it on the table. He had given his life for what I’d done and that was one guilt I’d never shed.
The television was on over the bar and a news alert flashed across the screen: Record-breaking drug bust in Boston shuts down the biggest cocaine ring to hit the streets since the seventies: DEA officials to comment soon.
I smiled. They got Seamus, that son of a bitch. He’d been MIA for months. Video footage showed Blanchet and Miles with DEA-issued jackets leaving a church.
I sat back in the booth and crossed my feet at the ankles. Chapter closed on that son of a bitch. Miles always said he wasn’t stopping until he could put him away for life. Now it looked like he got what he needed and finally nailed the bastard.
When my pizza arrived, I stared at it for a bit and remembered that little boy who sat across from the old man and never took a bite. I folded a slice in half the way he did and brought it to my mouth. I smelled the corned beef. Not so bad smelling, I thought, and then took a bite. “Not so bad, old man,” I said aloud with a smile.
I wiped my hands and opened the envelope, sliding the piece of paper out. With a deep breath, I read it.
Logan,
Choices are made and consequences paid. It’s the smaller man who dwells and the bigger man who moves forward. I’ve spent my life making one bad choice after the other, and the only choice I can say that I never regretted was marrying my Millie.
I’ve tried to teach you the things I faltered in, so that hopefully you wouldn’t take the same wrong steps I had. It wasn’t until after you left today that I realized I don’t have to worry about you. You are your own man. Strong. Confident. Competent. And I hope I had just a little to do with it.
But it’s time for me to join my love.
Don’t let my choice crush you.
Don’t be sad that I’m gone.
Don’t dwell.
Know I’m where I’m supposed to be.
I love you.
I swallowed down the emotion I felt and read the note again. After I finished reading it for a third time, I couldn’t help but think my grandfather was a man of infinite wisdom.
The road I had taken in life wasn’t always easy. In fact, sometimes it was extremely difficult. Still, in the end he was right . . . I truly believed we all ended up where we were supposed to be.
DAY 1,220
ELLE
“Cover your eyes.”
“They are covered, Mommy,” Clementine insisted.
“You have to squeeze your fingers together.”
“They are.”
I put my hand sideways over my eyes with my fingers touching each other, not splayed apart as hers were. “Like this, silly girl.”
With her fingers wide she looked at Sean. “Grandpa, tell her I can’t see this way.”
He raised his brows, fighting back his grin. “Elle, she can’t see like that.”
I rolled my eyes as I walked toward the front door and muttered, “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
Logan was waiting on the other side of the door and I hurried to swing it open wide. Carrying the small blue bundle in his arms, my husband stepped inside. My heart skipped a beat when I looked at him. Passion. Love. Lust. Desire. And family. It was all standing right in front of me—long, lean, and incredibly sexy. His grin was absolutely adorable, as was he, and what he was holding.
I looked down. “Clementine, are you ready to meet your new baby brother?”
The pitter-patter of little feet had long since morphed into the thump-thump of what she liked to call big-girl feet. In her miniature classic Converse sneakers that she had to have because they matched her daddy’s perfectly, she ran toward Logan and her new baby brother. “He came, he came!” she yelled in excitement.
Logan crouched down as she approached him. “Clementine, meet Killian.”
I lowered myself beside Logan and adoringly gazed at our new son and my incredibly sexy husband. The adoption had been arranged, but we weren’t expecting Killian to be born until next month. When we got the news, we didn’t tell Clementine about his early delivery because we wanted to surprise her.
Her eyes were wide as she looked at him.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She twisted her lip.
“Clementine?” Logan prompted with unwarranted concern in his tone.
She put her little hands on her hips. “Daddy, I told you I wanted the one with the curly hair.”
All of us burst into laughter.
Infectious as it was, she didn’t laugh. Instead, she eyed Killian and then pursed her lips. “Where’s the button to push? I want to see what he says.”
As if on cue, Killian Sean McPherson began to cry.
Clementine covered her ears. “Turn it down.”
I took her hand and lowered myself to her level. “We talked about this, silly girl. He’s not a Build-A-Bear.”
She seemed to contemplate this for a long while.
“What do you think, Mommy?” Logan asked, placing a soft kiss on my lips.
“I think we all have some things to learn, Daddy,” I said, kissing him back.
This had Clementine now covering her eyes. “Not again,” she whined.
We both shook our head.
She was just too funny.
Logan stood and held his free hand to her. “Come with me, Clementine. You and I are both new at this baby thing and we need to figure out how to feed him.”
Her grin grew incredibly wide. “Oh, Daddy, I already know how to do that.”
Looking absolutely adorable himself, Logan said, “Well, maybe you could show me.”
Clementine looked over at me. “Mommy, could you please get us a bottle? I have to teach Daddy how to feed my new baby brother.”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes. “I have one right here,” I said as I reached in the diaper bag I had set next to the door when I came in before Logan to prepare Clementine.
I watched as Clementine and Logan, with baby Killian in his arms, made their way to the couch, matching sneakers and a matching bounce of optimism in their steps. And when they sat down and Logan helped Clementine onto his lap so she could show him how to hold the bottle, my tears could no longer be contained.
“We’re very lucky,” Sean said, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, we are,” I managed to say and squeezed his hand.
The days had turned into years, and everything bad that had happened around Logan and me when we first met now seemed like a lifetime ago.
Just then the cuckoo clock on the wall chirped and my eyes went to his hazel pools. Every time it went off, Logan rolled his eyes, and it made me laugh. This time was no different.
As I stepped toward my family, the one thing that ran through my mind was that all those years ago I had been wrong about love.
It really does conquer all.
Although I tried to stay true to Boston, I did take some liberties with locations, dates, and timing.