Super Bowl championship that year, and repeating it the next, didn’t hurt my approval rating in the city, and because Seth was such a likeable, intelligent, and charismatic person to begin with, most everyone accepted him with open arms.
The evening of the Second Annual New England Mending Hearts Gala, where Seth and I had assisted Oliver in his extravagant proposal to Monroe, I had been inspired by the romantic gesture, and later that night, I performed a proposal of my own. One that involved no elaborate scheme, no premeditated speech, and no ring.
Just me and the man I loved, and my loathing of how we didn’t live together.
I’d had enough of not waking up to his face every morning and not falling asleep wrapped in his arms, so the following Monday morning, we went down to the courthouse and made it official. Without a big announcement. Without a team press release. Without a circus of media following our every step. All we had was each other, and it couldn’t have been any better.
“Yeah,” I finally responded, locking our eyes together so I could see her reaction to mine and Seth’s exciting news, “we’re celebrating a couple month early and leaving next week to go pick up our baby daughter in Russia.”
“Your daughter?! ” she screamed, so loud I was afraid everyone within a ten-mile radius could hear her.
Cutting my eyes over to Seth, I saw him and Oliver already headed in our direction, and I blew out a sigh of relief. “Yes, shhh,” I hushed her, “we haven’t told anyone in case something falls through. We didn’t want to be constantly reminded of it if that happens. So please don’t be upset with us.”
Monroe stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth gaping open, when Oliver slid in behind her, locking his fingers around her center. “Hey, Rizzo, babe, what are you making all this racket about over here?”
“Colin and Seth are adopting a daughter from Russia next week and they didn’t even tell us,” she hissed under her breath. “We’re gonna be godparents, and we haven’t done anything to prepare! We must go shopping immediately! We have to set up a nursery! We need food and clothes and diapers! Oh, my God, I don’t even know how old she is or what her name is!”
The three of us guys all shared a laugh at her minor freak-out, before Seth looped his arm around my neck and leaned in for a kiss. I happily obliged.
“She’ll be almost three months old when we bring her home,” I informed her, thrilled to see how excited she was, “and we’ve decided to name her Eden, after the Hebrew word for ‘perfect.’” Glancing over at my husband, I grinned and stole another quick kiss. “Because that’s what she is, the perfect addition to our already perfect life.”
To all my peeps. You know who you are. Thank you, for everything. Always.
A special thanks to Christopher Poindexter for sharing his amazing talent of poetry writing with the world. How one man can say so much in so few words is beyond me. You can find more of his work and order his poetry here .
Dallas G. Denery II
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