Page 109 of Husband of the Year
I nod in agreement. “How about a dance party?”
The class erupts in a chorus of “yes!” as I rise from my seat and make my way toward my phone, eager to connect it to the wireless speaker resting on the chalk railing.
“I know just the song.”
With a few taps, the thumping bass and crisp horns of Marthaand the Vandellas’ “Dancing in the Street” fills the room. Olan mentioned that Marvin Gaye was one of the songwriters, but I doubt my students have any interest in that detail. When the ladies’ voices join in, the entire class takes their direction, swinging and swaying. I take Michael’s and Audrey’s hands, and before I know it, they’re connecting with those beside them, creating a ripple effect that sweeps through the group. Soon, the entire class is linked together in a circle, dancing and celebrating the upcoming wedding of their kindergarten teacher.
Olan: Which ferry are you catching?
Marvin: 12:15. I’m on my way now.
Olan: I can’t wait to kiss your face. We’re getting married today.
Marvin: ILU!
Olan: I know the ferry has one speed, but hurry.
Marvin: I’ll see what I can do.
The late April sun warms my head as I run my fingers through my short curls, attempting a revival, but still a few weeks away from a full comeback. Olan and I discussed our outfits last night. We’re both wearing dress pants, shirts, and ties. The only contrast was in the color of our pants—mine are a bold blue, while Olan’s are a neutral khaki. It was nice to pick something from clothes we already own and since we rarely dress up together, we’ll still feel special.
Even though our time is limited, as we have to catch the 2:45 ferry to make it back before city hall closes for the weekend, I’m eagerly anticipating the precious moments of alone time with Olan. He’ll have the baby dressed and ready, which will give me plenty of time to shower and change.
There’s an extra pep in my step as I approach the house and skip up our front steps with a huge smile plastered on my face. As I reach for the door, it unexpectedly swings open before my hand touches the knob.
Olan swiftly joins me on the porch, closing the door behind him. He’s all dressed, except for his tie, his body filling out the dress shirt deliciously, and I wonder if the baby’s afternoon nap might help me convince him to undress and shower with me.
“Hey.” He kisses me, his cherry ChapStick sweetening his already tempting lips.
“Hey yourself,” I say.
“I have a couple of surprises for you.”
“Oh, really.” My fingers grab at the slick leather of his belt, doing their best to poke underneath his waistband.
“We’re getting married in a few hours. Remember, that’s what matters most.”
He’s not taking the bait, and his thoughtful tone catches me off guard.
Olan opens the door and beyond the foyer, sitting on the sofa in our living room, is Sarah Block.
“There you are.” She stands with Greggie in her arms and approaches me.
“Surprise.” Olan’s not winning any Oscars for his performance, but he gives it the college try.
“Mom. How? When? What are you doing here?”
“My son is getting married. I needed to meet my new grandson. So, I’m here!” She holds the baby up, kissing his forehead, and I get my first look at his outfit.
He’s wearing a mini version of Olan’s ensemble, with the cutest baby blue bow tie and matching newsboy hat. I’m not sure it’s possible for him to be any cuter.
“Oh, my goodness. I didn’t know he had this outfit.” I extend my arms and Sarah transfers him to me.
“Surprise number two. I thought he should coordinate with his uncles.”
“This boy could not be any sweeter.” My mother runs her hand behind Greggie’s head. “Look at that punim. I would eat those cheeks if I could.”
“Thankfully, that’s not allowed,” I say. “But I’ve thought about it myself.” My fingers graze Greggie’s cheeks and he gives me the most precious smile.
