Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,73

see us way up here, I know what they’d think. They’d think . . . wow, isn’t Jackson Healey a lucky man? He was so lost before Olivia Stuart came into his life. And so was his son. She became their compass. Their true north. And in finding her, he and his son found each other.”

He kisses me softly once again, and our mutual tears linger on our lips.

“But most importantly,” he says, “Ryder found his mother. And I have found my soulmate.”

They say everything looks perfect from far away, and maybe that’s true. It’s hard to see imperfections from a distance, but I don’t think all imperfections are bad. Not when those imperfections brought me here, on this balcony, beneath these stars . . .

And in these arms.

Thirteen Years Later

Ravenwood High School’s bleachers are nearly filled one hour before the graduation ceremony is set to begin. As I look across the arena, I can’t help but smile at the sea of happy faces. Graduation is a time to celebrate the past and focus on the future. But the future is scary—at least, it is for me—because I’m facing a future without my son under my roof every hour of every day.

Yes, this Mama’s had a rough senior year.

“You better not let Ryder catch you crying,” Sami says. “He doesn’t want you to be sad today, remember?”

Blinking back my tears, I smile at our ten-year-old daughter. With her dark hair and bright blue eyes, Samantha Healey is the spitting image of her father.

“Are you going to tell on me?” I ask, nudging her shoulder.

“Nah. I’d have to tell on Daddy, too. Look at him.”

I glance at the handsome man by my side, and sure enough, Jackson’s eyes are swimming with tears, too. Still, he manages to wink at me, and the flirty gesture is just what I need to bring me back to the present. Because he always knows what I need, he leans over and kisses me tenderly.

“Gross,” Sami mutters.

“Agreed,” Dana says from the row behind us. “Stop that. We are surrounded by young, impressionable children. Speaking of which, where are Angel and Eric?”

“About six rows down,” Jackson says, pointing below us. “Right next to Hazel and our parents.”

I smile wistfully. I hate that we all can’t sit together, but the place is just too crowded. Knowing they’re here to celebrate this amazing day is good enough for me. Besides, we’ll see everyone later at the house for Ryder’s graduation party.

“How many days do you have left?” Dana asks.

“Five. And I can’t wait.”

“It’s been a rough school year,” Jackson says. “She’s ready for a break.”

I am. After Sami’s birth, I was offered a position at Ryder’s elementary school. I’ve been teaching first grade ever since. I love my job, but this year has been a killer—with lots of budget cuts and staff changes. To say I’m ready for summer vacation is an understatement.

“Almost time,” Jackson says, sliding his arm around me. “Who cries first? Your mom or mine?”

“I’m going with Hazel.”

Our sweet Hazel is another grandmother to our kids. Now retired—or as retired as she wants to be—she still lives in the house with us. We wouldn’t want it any other way.

As I look around at our family, I’m overwhelmed with emotion.

Our kids are lucky to be loved so much.

Speaking of family . . .

I slowly scan the crowd. I have no idea if I can find her in this sea of people, or if she’ll even show. I don’t know if I’ll even recognize her if she does. Jackson told me I was crazy, but I’d mailed a graduation announcement to her last known address in Florida anyway. I don’t know why, and I’m not entirely sure I even want her to make an appearance.

But I’m a mother, and I can’t imagine any mother not wanting to see her son on his graduation day, as he delivers his valedictorian speech.

Finally, the pianist starts to play Pomp and Circumstance, and the crowd stands as the graduates in their red caps and gowns make their way to their seats.

“There he is,” Jackson says.

I blink back tears as Ryder appears and follows his classmates down the aisle.

The principal welcomes us, and we have to endure a few guest speakers before Ryder’s name is finally called. With phones in hand, the Healey-Stuart clan take pictures and cheer wildly as he steps up to the podium. He’d worked on his speech for weeks. I’d even offered to help him with it, but he