Brazen Tricks - Ali Dean Page 0,67
got back to the van, we didn’t just sit around talking.”
That makes me giggle. And then I roll my eyes at myself. I can’t believe he still makes me giggle like this. I also can’t believe I’m now getting down and lying on my back like I was when he found me after my first crash.
Beck takes position kneeling beside me. He strokes my forehead and unbuckles my helmet.
“Jordan. You amaze me every day, and I want you to keep amazing me for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”
My head pops up so fast that my vision blurs a little just like it did that first day we met. Sure enough, he’s holding out a ring.
“We can’t do it tomorrow, Beck, we’re headed to the X Games.”
Beck looks confused for a second before he gives me a little smile. “I’d rather have a real wedding anyway, with everyone we love there to party with us.”
I put my hand out. “Yes, Beck, I’ll marry you, and I can’t guarantee I’ll keep amazing you every day, but can you promise to keep making my dreams come true?”
He slips the ring on my finger and closes his eyes as he does, like he’s savoring the moment.
When he opens them, I recall how striking it was to see those blues for the first time in person. “No, Jordan. You make your own dreams come true.”
Then he lifts me up, carrying me just like I remember from our first encounter. “Looks like we’re making your dreams come true today,” I point out when we reach the camper and head straight for the bed. Beck takes my chin in his hand but before he can kiss me I admit on a whisper, “But it’s okay, all of this is my dream too.”
He smiles. “We make it easy, sharing the same dreams.”
Epilogue 2
Lots of years later
Beck
“Mom’s crazy,” Everett, our six-year-old, says as we watch her rip up and down the Riptide half pipe.
“Just because you’re too scared to even go all the way up the steps and stand at the top doesn’t mean she’s crazy,” Ruby, his older sister by two years, sasses.
I ignore their sibling banter as I watch my wife. Our general parenting approach is to let the two bicker on their own unless it crosses some line of disrespect or noise level we can’t handle. Or if Everett punches Ruby, even if she sometimes might kind of deserve it. No idea where the level of sass in that girl came from, but boy can she dish it when she’s in the mood.
Jordan finishes her run, grabs her board, and walks toward us.
“Are you going to pick her up and kiss her again?” Ruby asks.
“Thinking about it. But you did pretend to gag when I did it last year.”
Ruby shrugs and crosses her arms. “Whatever, I guess it’s cool.”
Everett just laughs. “But then can we get going? I want to start driving!”
Each summer we drive cross-country and stop at skateparks and campgrounds along the way. Our final destination is Connecticut, where we visit with Jordan’s parents and her friends who still live in her hometown. It’s become a tradition of sorts to hit up Riptide Skatepark before we begin the first leg of our journey.
Jordan’s little smile when our eyes lock tells me she knows I won’t be able to help myself with the other part of our tradition. In two long strides I close the space and scoop her up in my arms.
“You still amaze me every day,” I tell her, meaning it.
“My dreams are still coming true every day,” she responds with what I can only describe as a dopey smile. I know she gets a little giddy every time she shreds Riptide but I like to tell myself part of her dazed expression right now isn’t from the adrenaline rush on the half pipe, but from this moment with me.
“Even when Everett pees his bed in the camper tonight?” He never does it at home anymore but ever since he was out of diapers, the first night on the road each trip he does it without fail.
“Even then.”
“What about when Ruby climbs into bed with us right when I’m trying to get you naked later?” I whisper, glancing over at the kids, who have started skating back to the van and the camper attached behind it. Ruby glances over her shoulder, her signature dash of defiance replaced with a softer look. She understands our love for each other and