Like That

Prologue

He is not a lover who does not love forever--Euripedes

Prologue:

The alarm wakes me out of a deep sleep. Hitting the snooze, I know I have ten minutes of snuggle time before my day begins.

I spoon into position as Patrick wraps his arms around me. Soft, warm kisses on the back of my neck send a warm tingle through my body. For the last few years, this is how we began our day. It is our way to connect before our busy lives separated us for a few hours. "It's time to wake up," he kisses my neck some more as his hand travels to my waist, whispering "I love you."

"I'm not ready," I say almost in a whine. "I need another hour or two, please."

"Not today, maybe on Saturday I can let you sleep in...come on rise and shine." He says this just as the alarm sounds again. I know it is finally time to get out of bed. Patrick rubs his hand under my rib, rolls me over, and then kisses me on the cheek before he heads to the shower.

I walk down the hallway. "Good morning, Sunshine," I say as I kiss my older son on the forehead to wake him up for school. Even though I know he is no longer a little boy, he hasn't begun complaining about momma kisses, yet. Well, except for in public. "Your dad is making you eggs and sausage. Hurry and get ready so you can have breakfast with him before he leaves for work." He stretches and moans. "Come on, get up. You have a big day ahead of you." Mason bend his back into another deep stretch rubs the sleep out of his eyes. His hair is getting a bit shaggy, but it suits him. He can let it grow as long I can still see his eyes ... that is our deal.

By the time my 13-year-old son is dressed, his dad has breakfast ready. I can hear the conversation from Peyton's room. "Are you excited about tryouts today?" Patrick asks, trying to help Mason focus on the day ahead. "When will the coach be making his decisions for the team?"

"Tryouts last a month, but the coach will start making cuts during the third week. We won't know the team until the last week. I'm only nervous about my new position. I have a good shot as mid-field, but I would like to try for keeper. The coach says he needs a tall, aggressive player in the goal. I can do tall, but I'm still working on aggressive," he jokes, knowing he still has a baby face and doesn't look very intimidating. At 5'10 Mason is one of the tallest players on the team. He is built like his dad tall and lean with well-defined muscles, a natural athlete.

I walk into the kitchen holding Peyton, who has rubbed his face on my shoulder trying to wake up. I watch my husband of 15 years talking sports with Mason. His face fully focused on his son. Mason looks like his father with his black Irish coloring with dark brown hair and green eyes, but his facial features are definitely from my side of the family. Mason's excitement shows in his eyes as he and his dad discuss the ins and outs of soccer. Patrick tells Mason that he will not be able to pick him up from tryouts because he has a full day of meetings ahead of him. He is planning on picking him up tomorrow.

I place my hand on Patrick's shoulder, and his hand comes up to cover mine. "Hey, little man," Patrick looks up a takes notice of Peyton. "Breakfast time." Like magic words, Peyton bolts out of my arms into Patrick's lap ready to eat. Peyton is full of giggles as he begins eating his breakfast. He tries to insert himself into the conversation with his brother and dad. Patrick smiles at me with a small chuckle and a look of pure bliss.

After a quick breakfast with his boys and kisses for me, Patrick leaves for the office. "Yes, daddy went bye-bye," Mason tells Peyton as walks him into my bedroom.

"Ready to get dressed?" I ask Peyton. "What are you going to wear today?"

"Red. I want red." He's a bit opinionated for an 18-month-old, and his dark brown eyes sparkle as he bounces out of my room to find a red shirt. Mason chases him down the hall to help with pants and shoes. I am so lucky. I know we have only been a family for a short time, but the boys have a very special bond. After the birth of Mason then two miscarriages, the idea of another child in my house seemed to be impossible. Adopting Peyton was one of the easiest decisions we have ever made. My irresponsible cousin Gina lost custody of Peyton even with a year of intervention by the state. Instead of letting him go live with strangers, Patrick and I petitioned the court to let us adopt. Gina signed over, or rights to us, and his adoption was finalized just as the school year began. I took off from work, teaching third grade, for five weeks for 'maternity' leave to bond with my new baby. He has brought so much more life and happiness to our house.

As we leave the house, Patrick calls to tell me he will be out of the office for most of the day. He might not be home until after 7:00, but he would call before he headed home. I like how he keeps me informed of his day so that I don't worry about him. "I love you, have a great day. Wish Mason luck for me," he tells me before he hangs up.

Before letting Mason out at school, I remind him that I have a faculty meeting and will be there to pick from soccer as soon as I the meeting is over. After dropping Mason off at junior high and Peyton at daycare, I head off to work.

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Mason calls me at 4:30 as the faculty meeting wraps up. "Hey, son, what's wrong?" I ask, not expecting his phone call.

"What time are you going to be here? I'm the last one at practice, and my coach is wondering if I've been forgotten?" He snickers. "Really, we just finished. I was just hoping you were on your way."

"Don't try to scare your momma like that. I'll be there in five."

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Mason helps me pick up Peyton from daycare. When Peyton sees his big brother still in his soccer gear, he runs at him doing a great impersonation of Andes Cantor's "Goooooal!" Mason's fist bumps him, "Yeah, little dude."

"Ok, off to the grocery store, then dinner and homework," I say to Mason.

"What time will dad be home? I have algebra homework tonight. No offence mom...you can help me with history and English, but we both know dad is better at math." I make a face at him and pretend his words wounded me. Even though I took calculus in college, I don't remember much of my higher math. I guess it's true if you don't use it you lose it.

God gave me you for the ups and downs plays as I pull my phone out to answer. "Hey, babe," I say to Patrick.

"I just called to let you know my last meeting finished early. I should be home for dinner, no later than 6:00. Tell Mason, I'm looking forward to finding out about tryouts. Is there anything you need from me before I head home?"

"No, we just left the store. Peyton wanted noodles for dinner...so spaghetti it is. I'll see you in a little while."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," I say as I end the call.

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It is 6:30 and dinner is ready, but Patrick is not home, yet. Mason had finished all of his homework except for algebra. He helps set the table and sits Peyton in the booster seat. Spaghetti is everywhere within two minutes, but Peyton is happy with his noodles that I don't worry about cleaning up, yet.

As soon as dinner is finished, I set off to give the little man a bath. The water is warm, and he immediately begins to splash when he gets in the tub. His eyelashes are wet, and he is giggling each time his small hand hits the water. "Big splash, do it again," he tells me as he plays in the water. I squirt the shampoo in my hands then lather his hair. "I do it," he announces and begins to rub his hair mimicking my motions. I fell in love with this little guy the minute I saw him when he had just turned one, and four months later and he was officially a Cahill.

It's just after 7:00. "I thought dad would be home by now," Mason says as he enters the bathroom. I reach down to pluck Peyton from the tub and wrap him in a large bath towel.

"Well, maybe he didn't finish as early as he thought he would. Do you want my help with algebra? I just need to read over your examples, and I should be able to help you understand," I tell him, hoping that he took good enough notes to trigger my memory.

I put Peyton in bed and proceed to help Mason with homework hoping that Patrick hurries home to rescue me. Making a quick phone call to check of Patrick, I'm sent straight to voicemail. I leave a message.

I send Mason to bed at 9:30 and still there is no Patrick. I make another phone call to find out what time he is going to be home, but again I'm sent straight to voicemail.

Just after 10:00 there is a knock on the door, and like that my world is turned upside down.

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Check out the picture of Patrick and video from James Morrison posted with this chapter