All the Pretty Poses (Pretty #2)(54)
Author: M. Leighton

“You mean other than shower me with things that I could never have a need of?”

“Yes, besides that.”

“Then no, you didn’t.”

“Well, I had a friend who was open to the idea of an investor. You might’ve heard of him. Chance Altman.” I watched Kennedy’s eyes go wide and her mouth drop open into a perfectly round O. “I thought you might know the name. Well, he was pretty keen on the idea of having a partner, as well as having a troupe based in Chicago. I was also able to give him the name of an extremely talented dancer that I happen to know. There was even an opening at the Steadman Theater that some charming and resourceful man was able to procure for the shows. Three nights a week, starting this summer.”

After staring at me for at least sixty full seconds, Kennedy leaned her forehead against mine and I watched the tears—her “happy as hell” tears as she calls them—drip from the tip of her nose onto the front of my shirt.

“I didn’t need anything else in life to be happy, to be complete, Reese.”

“But I needed to give you this. I want to see you dance, beautiful. I want to see you dance until your dream isn’t to dance anymore.”

She lifted her head and gazed into my eyes with her big, teary green ones. “You are my dream. He is my dream,” she said, touching her belly with one palm.

“But you’re mine. And I know you’ve always wanted this. And I wanted you to have it.”

That was followed by some pretty rigorous lovemaking, especially for a pregnant lady. It turned out to be a good idea, though, because she didn’t have to be induced after that. Malcolm Harrison Spencer came along just fine on his own.

I can remember with absolute clarity the way it felt to hold him in my arms—my child, a part of me and a part of Kennedy, together in the most perfect baby I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think many moments in life could compete with the moment that I stood across from her and watched her lips move when she said “I do” in the front of the church, but holding our son for the first time was right up there with it.

Every day since then has been just about as ideal as I could imagine life being. We’ve fed him together, bathed him together, watched him take his first steps and say his first words together. I wouldn’t change a single second of it.

It’s been ten months to the day since I witnessed the miracle of our son’s birth. Now I get to witness another incredible event—the first day his mother got to dance the dance of her dreams, on a stage for the whole world to see.

The smile she’s wearing as she twirls and bends takes my breath away. And the satisfaction I get from knowing that I helped put it there…priceless.

I’m living a life I never thought I’d have, happier than I ever thought I could be. My son is at home with my mother. My wife is on stage where she belongs. And my empire is being expanded for our children. I couldn’t ask for one more thing out of life.

But if I could, I might ask for a little girl.

Just one more little girl.

THE END