Page 95 of The Cannon
“Let me see that gorgeous girl.”
She lowers her hands and bites her lip. “It’s my ugly cry!”
I lift her chin. “Baby, there’s nothing ugly about you.”
Removing the ring box from the bag I hold it up. I gaze into the calming pool of her blue eyes and it relaxes both of us. Our breathing settles.
“My heart talks about nothing but you. I’m a man on his knee asking that you love me for a lifetime. Bristol Swift, will you marry me?”
First the head nods, and nods. Then the words come spilling out. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Sawyer Tom!”
She’s down on the ice with me. We’re holding on to each other and kissing. Lips, face, hands. Lips again. The lights go up. As we call the family, they rush to make it across the ice. Grandpa and Grandma are standing. All are teary.
Jude reaches us before anyone else. I’ve never seen such a real expression of happiness on his face. He opens arms wide and takes us in his embrace. This right here is family. My family.
As the others surround us with love, I realize for the first time in my life, I’ve finally found home.
Epilogue
Bristol
Twenty-Six Years Later
“Boone! That’s your second piece,”my mother leans in and whispers.
“Damnit, woman. Quit your counting.” He chuckles and takes a bite of our twenty-fifth silver anniversary cake.
I’m aware of how things have changed. Both for the good and the bad. Sitting around the old dining table is something we do less and less. Just that realization brings a lump to my throat. It’s hard to get us all together at one time. But today we all made the effort, because love still lives here among us.
We never thought the day would come, but the idea of hosting dinners and parties have lost their appeal for Mom and Dad. They did it so spectacularly for so many years, I think it bugs them both to know they just don’t have it in them anymore.
Time has changed us all in different ways. It’s almost unfathomable to me to know my parents are in their eighties. White hair, slower gaits and hands touched by arthritis. As I look at my mother’s hands I’m reminded of how beautiful they were. Mom has had a hard time holding her watercolor brushes lately and her paintings are far and few between. Dad’s diabetes and her heart rhythm issues have made their lives a series ofdoctorappointments it seems.
Their love story doesn’t appear to be so changed by it though. Right now they’re holding hands as they sit next to each other. They’re still charmed. And their example of love and loyalty continues to teach us all.
I know age doesn’t skip anyone, but if it was possible I thought they had the best chance.
Looking around the table I’m transported to another time. While the conversations continue, I think back. All the way to my childhood. Brick and Atticus. Were there ever better brothers? They were the best-looking boys.
It’s funny seeing them in their sixties. The white hair I expected. Never thought I’d see the start of receding hairlines. I’m certain they are just as surprised by my thickening waistline. But we are all still content. Each of us has been blessed with knowing love. Our children happy and settled. Is it possible Brick has been a grandfather for two years now?
Retirement came before he was sixty-five. He and January said so long to their careers and started traveling the world. After a lifetime of high-profile demanding jobs they’ve become gypsies.
The year Atticus hurt his leg in a smash up at home plate he was released from the Mavericks. But it was near the end of his career, so he wasn’t crushed by the turn of events. He’s already been in his second career for nearly twenty years. A beloved Memphis Mavericks announcer and iconic past player. I still hear the mischievous tone in his voice and the fans do too.
My dear Charlotte is laughingly teasing her husband. How good they are together. The way they play with each other. It’s as if they were still thirty years old.
Next to them sits Beauregard. I continue to call him Baby Beauregard when I want to tease him. He has the women going crazy. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Twenty-five and just starting out. The world is his.
Watching him talk with Atticus and my father about the game is so familiar. They all have had the same look of passionate focus. He’s the next link in the Swift baseball dynasty. Everyone thinks he’s going to be as good as his uncle.
Mallory and her husband and three children take up the far side of the table. She’s forty-one. Is that possible? Her life began so differently than it ended up. Atticus and Charlotte did a spectacular job of raising her. She was already a teenager when they met, but there couldn’t be a closer father-daughter relationship.
“Jude. I’ve got a question. Does this mole look suspicious?”
I’m startled back to the present as my mother opens my father’s shirt and points to one of many moles.
Brick and Atticus start laughing, and a few more at the table join him.
