Chapter 10 - Blowing Out Real CandlesThree weeks after my disastrous thirty-third birthday dinner, my mother called and asked if we could do a do-over.
"Just the four of us," she pleaded over the line, her voice small and broken. "No cake with sparklers. Just dinner at home."
I declined.
I told her that Dan and I had plans. And we did.
Instead of sitting in a tense dining room listening to apologies wrapped in rationalizations, Dan and I drove out to a quiet local steakhouse overlooking the Tennessee River. We ordered a massive ribeye to share, split a slice of key lime pie, and toasted to the quiet, beautiful truth of our marriage.
When we got home, there was a small box waiting on our front porch.
No note. Just a fresh coconut cake from the local bakery downtown, complete with a single, plain wax candle tucked into the center of the frosting.
Dan walked inside, grabbed a box of matches, and lit the single candle. The little flame flickered brightly in the dim hallway, casting a warm, steady glow without any hissing, without any chemical smoke, and without any hidden landmines waiting beneath the frosting.
He looked at me, a soft, teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Make a wish, Molly," he said softly.
May you like
I didn't need to wish for anything.
For the first time in my life, everything in my world was exactly where it belonged, illuminated by a light that was entirely, beautifully real. I leaned forward, took a deep breath, and blew the flame out myself.
