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It was not until early Sunday morning when Capt. R.E. Ludlow rose before dawn that it all truly hit him – the adoption was done. He had lost two children. He had gathered up their children, and now, forever, they were his. Ludlow Family 2.0 was official.
Capt. Ludlow looked back at Thalia his wife … they had kidded about having children together, for she was not past the age of it being impossible, but both of them had young adult children when they met, and, no natural-born children happened … and yet, she was the mother of seven now … she had labored with him, every step of the way, without faltering or complaining.
Something else had happened Saturday – the captain had gotten a call from Scotland Yard, in London.
“Cheerio, old chap – this is your cousin Inspector Caswell, informing you that the case of bubbly evidence you sent has been received and duly examined by the Yard, and the results of our investigation are that this is the best American product we have encountered for many years.
“We closely examined the contents of all but three bottles because my friend who works in security at an important palace here in London wished to take them to his employers there. A bottle for him, a bottle for two august personages who reside at said palace – so it was agreed.”
Just at that time, one of Capt. Ludlow's little grandchildren – nay, children – ran up and pulled his shirt, and ran off a few moments later telling the others, “Papa is talking with Scotland Yard – he's trying to make sure the Scottish kids playing there can have our soda too!”
Inspector Caswell had laughed.
“Our congratulations, Robert,” he said, “all the way from across the Pond. My cousin's employers were deeply moved by your family's story and enjoyed your soda as well. You will receive a letter in the near future from them, and possibly from royal procurement.”
Capt. Ludlow had taken the phone over to his chair and sat down because of that news.
“Thank you, Charles,” he said, “and thank your friend at Westminster Palace as well, and also Her Majesty and His Highness. Do you have a contact in international export to the United Kingdom?”
“I do, and I will ask him to call you on Monday. You do well to take such initiative, but, we expect it of an industrious American offshoot!”
That morning, in his private worship, Capt. Ludlow gave thanks to God for the connection at Scotland Yard along with everything else, but Mrs. Ludlow was up a little earlier than usual, and so, still in his emotions, he prepared for her a special cup of the Calm Mile in a hot tea version.
“To the queen,” he toasted her when she arrived, and she chuckled.
“Elizabeth just didn't impress you yesterday, huh?” she said.
“I'm an American man,” he said, “and you are the queen of my heart, and that of our children's – our children, forget all that step- business on grandmother that you just ignored because it never mattered. If I were to honor any woman as a queen, it would have to be you, Thalia – my name, my honor, my life if need be – I would lay it all down and be happy to do so, for you have made all those things worth having again, with our children! I would have said my earthly goods, but, you already know the situation there!”
“Yeah, we spent it all on these seven kids – what else is new?” she said, and snuggled into his embrace with her tea. “All fine with me. I have what I want, king.”
A sweet kiss and a calm, loving Sunday morning, observed through a crack in the door by seven-year-old Amanda Ludlow and her teddy bear.
“I love it when they do that,” she whispered to her teddy bear. “It means that we're safe and can stay, and now that we have been adopted, it means that we are super-duper safe and loved.”