GLASS SHAPED HEART
TWO
How We Operate by Gomez (jlambert)
Turn me inside out and upside down
And try to see things my way
Turn a new page, tear the old one out
And I'll try to see things your way
To this day, on Valentine's, her sweet, sweet boys always made sure she got roses no matter where they were in the world. Traditionally included was a piece of glass. As little ones they gave her curios of glass because they thought it was a way to say 'I love you'. Sometimes they bought it; sometimes one would find a smooth piece of ocean glass and hold on to it for months with the sole purpose of adding it to her February 14th collection.
The kids first heard the story about the red glass from Italy when they were very young. They wanted to know why mommy was so excited about the shiny chunk of crimson glass she and their father brought home from their honeymoon. Jason told them some straightforward version of how Elizabeth got her first piece of Italian glass. Taking over, she tried to spin it into the magical romantic tale it really was.
"I was staying with your mother in her studio. Just as friends. I didn't even know it was a holiday. Your mom gave me some candy-"
"Fudge."
"Fudge." Jason kissed her temple and continued, "So I thought I should give her something too. I remembered I had this glass so I gave it to her."
There was a pause.
"That's it?" Jake questioned clearly disappointed.
Smiling she snuggled deeper into Jason's lap, "No, never have your father tell a story if you want the details. Daddy had been away a long time. I really missed him a lot when he was gone but I didn't know if he'd missed me. I was crazy about your daddy even back then but I didn't know how he felt about me and I had other stuff going on… Anyway, he was staying at my studio. Yes, I got him some fudge for Valentine's-"
"Sweets for the Sweet." Cam sung with a smile.
"-and that's when he gave me the glass. When he gave it to me he said it reminded him of me. He'd been to Italy, to a place famous for glassmakers, saw its color and thought of me. That's how I knew he'd missed me too. I didn't want to take it because I thought it was special to him-"
"But you were more special." Cam interrupted.
"She is." Jason agreed breathing in her brandied vanilla scent.
Uneasy with the flattery, Elizabeth smiled and continued, "He knew I'd appreciate its beautiful color and insisted I accept it. Your daddy could have gotten something fancy but then it wouldn't be about the color. Anyway, he took me to the window and we held it up to the light…"
"And you let me hold your hand for a long time."
"I did." She blushed, reliving the moment.
Her new husband held her close, kissing her gently and stroked her alabaster skin while she relayed the bit of history to their brood. It was a moment the boys never forgot. Even in their tender imaginations Cameron and Jacob knew they were witnessing forever love.
Elizabeth was convinced if it weren't for Jason being a part of their family her kids would have been a mess. She'd screwed so much up and would have continued on that spiral if he hadn't come back and fought so hard for her. He was such a pillar of strength for all of them to lean on.
He loved them. He showed them what romance was.
It had nothing to do with heart-shaped boxes and Hallmark cards; romance was giving yourself to someone you cherished. It meant staying up with them when they were sick. It meant listening even when he'd heard the story before. It meant drying her eyes and helping with funeral arrangements when Grams died. It meant hustling the kids off to the Drake's when Mommy and Daddy had that ravenous look in their shimmering blue eyes and needed 'alone time'. It meant Mommy's laughter as she ran down the stairs in just her bra and underwear with Daddy promising to tickle her more if he caught her. It meant all of them, a family, curled up by the fireplace, playing the new game Jake got for Christmas; as the Christmas tree's incandescence illuminated them and, of course, Daddy winning again and again but not gloating. He taught them honor and how to be confident but not cocky. So much to be grateful for in nine short years, there wasn't room for grief.