Although I have lots of money, she isn’t superficial in the slightest. She isn’t motivated by the wrong things. Not only that, she’s a blank, clean, white canvas for me to paint. And she knows it, loves it, and trusts in me to create a masterpiece.
As far as I’m concerned, she always was exactly that.
I stay in the backdrop and listen to her and her dad tell the story I already know, and how the crowd can’t believe what they’re hearing. Being that it’s Art Basel, there are a lot of famous and influential people in town and out of the corner of my eye I can already see a couple of the major Hollywood studios talking about a picture. If I can hear it right they’re already in a bidding war.
Little do they know everything about my wife is priceless, including the secret we share.
I’ve converted one of the rooms in the house into her little space. Now that we understand the dynamic we have completely, and that there are more people like us out there, I was able to do quite a bit of research and find out things that can help her thrive.
And thriving she is.
Oh, she’s still a brat from time to time, like spilling cereal, and milk, on Saturday mornings when we’re watching cartoons, but I’m almost sure those little acts of disobedience are intentional. Not that either of us are complaining, because little time has been known to include some pretty interesting spanking sessions, more than a time or two. Let’s just say wooden hairbrushes aren’t just for making sure my baby looks her best.
Scarlett steps off stage while some reporters surround Jack. This was his big ‘I’m back’ moment, and will get him back in the spotlight where he deserves, counted amongst today’s most elite artists…just like his daughter.
“We did it,” she says, throwing her arms around me. “Daddy,” she adds, whispering it into my ear.
“I’m so proud of you baby girl. We need to celebrate. I know you’re not twenty-one yet, but winning Art Basel certainly means you deserve a sip or two of champagne.”
“Isn’t that breaking the rules,” she asks, reaching her hand around and giving me a playful spank that no-one can see.
“You only did that because you know nobody can see and Daddy can’t punish you right now.”
“Or maybe because I’m counting on Dad to punish me later, as my present for being a good girl today.”
“It’s Daddy, not Dad.”
“Actually…” She lets the word just sit there in the air for a minute, before a huge grin spreads across her face.
“You’re kidding me?”
“Did somebody say kid? Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner,” she teases, but I can tell by the look on her face it’s not a joke. Her words are for fun, but they’re real.
“Baby! This is perfect!” I say, swooping her up and spinning her around, making sure her dress doesn’t come up because I’m still, and always will be, possessive of what’s mine. And no one is allowed to see any part of my princess, just as no one’s allowed to see her Daddy’s body. “Boy or a girl.”
“It doesn’t work that way. They can’t tell this soon.”
“Daddy’s got a lot to learn about being a daddy,” I half-jokingly admit.
“He sure does, but there’s one thing he doesn’t need any instruction on.”
“What’s that baby girl?”
“How to be the best Daddy in the world. My Daddy.”
“My angel. Forever and always.”
Extended Epilogue
Scarlett
Six years later
Sawyer, our oldest, flips on the lights after arriving home from his first day of school.
“Mom? Dad? Is anybody home?”
I look across the hall at my husband who gives me a wink just as we hear the tiny steps of our little boy across the hardwood floor we had installed in the home we moved to last year so the kids could grow up on the beach, experiencing Mother Nature’s ‘true art.’
I start counting down on my fingers as his footsteps alert us he’s getting closer. 3…2…1
Silas nods and we jump out at the same time, each tickling a few ribs of our boy as we yell, “Happy Birthday, Sawyer!”
He just about jumps out of his shoes and then we all laugh, realizing we put one over on him.
“I knew you didn’t forget!” he says.
“No way, buddy,” Silas quickly agrees. “You and Sofia and Sebastian are the most important things in mommy and daddy’s world. Your special day is our special day.”
I give my son a hug and then Silas goes right back to being himself.
“Room clean?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Good grade on your test?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Treat your classmates and teachers with respect today?”
“Yes, dad.”
He answers each without a trace of annoyance, Silas having taught him the value of rules and rewards from an early age. It seems I’m the only one who enjoys breaking rules and the punishments they result in.
Somewhat counterintuitively, Silas never spanks our children though, or lays a hand on them in any way other than to show his love and affection, which makes sense because his look and voice alone can be punishment enough. I know. Making our kids stand in the corner, write sentences, or extra chores? Absolutely.
Sawyer’s little brother, Sebastian, comes out of the kitchen with icing all over his face.
“Happy birthday!”
Silas and I just look at each other, before I voice the obvious. “Guess it’s time for the angel food birthday cake.”
“Angel food? You made me an angel food cake?”
“For my angel on his birthday? You betcha!”
He gives me a big hug and goes running off into the kitchen while Silas and I quickly check on a sleeping Sofia.
“Wonder if he knows you’re my little angel,” Silas says, sneaking up from behind me when I’m standing at the edge of the crib.
“Silas,” I slap his hand away.
