As the first strains of “The Star-Spangled Banner” wafted from the speakers around the entertainment room in Aspen Creek and the image of the American flag filled the gigantic screen, Grady reached around Amanda’s waist and pulled her close. She sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed her cheek against the softness of his shirt. It was nice to be home after a week-long horse show.
“This is when Dad really started to lose it,” fifteen-year-old Solstice said. “Everyone in the stands thought he must really love the national anthem.”
The Brunswick children, along with Jacqueline, Harris, Alonso, and Tatalina and Nikolai were sprawled on various couches and chairs in the spacious entertainment room in Aspen Creek. Amanda and Grady stood behind one of the big couches. Ben, their black Portuguese water dog, sat next to Amanda.
“I had allergies,” Grady said to his oldest daughter.
The image on the screen showed Amanda standing on the pedestal with the other members of the United States equestrian team, her gold medal gleaming in the sun.
“Wow, Mom, you were super sweaty,” the twelve-year-old Wave said gleefully.
They had just watched the final round of the Olympic team jumping competition. It had been one year since Amanda’s victorious ride, and Grady insisted they watch it on the anniversary date.
“Here’s the victory gallop!” Solstice said. The American riders led the other medalists around the giant outdoor ring. Someone gave Amanda an American flag and she and Edelweiss galloped in front, the gray mare’s tail flying.
Amanda’s throat closed as she watched the horse that had carried her to her biggest dream. Grady saw the tears and tightened his arm around her. She looked up at him and he returned her gaze for a full minute. They did that a lot, enough to thoroughly annoy their daughters.
Harris, on one of the couches, said, “Whew, Amanda, Grady, special delivery for one of you. My no-diaper-changing policy is still in effect.” He held the gurgling baby in front of him so he could look into her somber, dark blue eyes. “We were having such a nice time, Courtney; then you had to go and do that.”
“I’ll be sure to give her a stern talking-to,” Amanda said.
“I’ll get her,” Grady said.
“Are you sure?” Harris said. “Isn’t this beneath you now that you’re a Broadway star and Tony Award nominee? By the way, did you ever get your pecs insured?”
Grady grinned at his friend. “Come here, pumpkin,” he said as he scooped his infant daughter from Harris’s arms. “Don’t listen to Uncle Harris. He’s delusional.”
Later that night Grady made love to Amanda. As they lay in each other’s arms, Grady said, “So let’s see, I have three years before you could possibly be in another Olympics, right?”
“Unless I take up curling, then there’s only one year until the Winter Games.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I’m staying put for a while. Be a mom. I’m just getting to know our daughters again. Equinox, Wilma, and Candy.”
“That’s Solstice, Wave, and Courtney.”
“Right. And you, too, Brady.”
“Excuse me?” He pinned her and tickled her. Amanda squirmed, bucked, and laughed until he took pity on her and stopped. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her, moonlight cascading over his smiling face.
Out of breath, she reached up and stroked his cheek with her fingertips, loving the feel of the light stubble. “Oh, Grady,” she whispered. “How I love you.”
“I know.” His voice was gruff. “I know.”
She saw his boundless love for her in his eyes. He kissed her, soft and deep. “You’re not curling.”
“Probably not. But no promises.”