As Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy” began playing, a panel opened at the front of the gold box, lowering to the stage like a ramp extending from an aircraft.
When Matthew, Malcolm and Milan suddenly appeared, the audience burst into applause.
The boys looked dapper in gold tuxedos while Milan resembled a fairy princess in a billowy gold dress with gold ribbons in her curly black hair. The three of them looked like golden figurines come to life.
Marcus grinned broadly, his chest swelling with pride as he watched the twins take their baby sister by the hand and escort her down the ramp. They had the entire audience going “Aww” and smiling from ear to ear.
The Nutcrackersong faded as an angelic soprano voice rose from the dais. As the talented soloist sang the opening notes of “Ave Maria,” Samara emerged from the giant box.
The audience let out a gasp.
Marcus lost his breath.
If Milan looked like a fairy princess, her mother was the fairy queen, luminously beautiful in a strapless gold ball gown that shimmered under the spotlight. She wore a diamond choker and a diamond tiara on her head that gave Marcus flashbacks to the magical night they met.
She commanded everyone’s attention as she wafted down the ramp, the sweep of her gold gown floating around her as appreciative murmurs spread through the crowd.
At the bottom of the ramp, Matthew and Malcolm bowed gallantly to their mother. Milan curtsied and then crooked her little finger.
When Samara bent down, her daughter kissed her sweetly on the cheek.
More sighs and choruses of “Aww” floated from the crowd.
Marcus swallowed around the lump in his throat. Someone—probably Magnum—clapped him on the shoulder.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the stage as Samara and their children started down the runway together. It was fitting that they’d stepped out of a gift box, because they were four of the best gifts he’d ever received in his life.
Just as they reached the end of the runway, a feral roar pierced the air.
Samara whirled, her gown billowing around her.
Marcus sat up straighter, his eyes riveted to the stage as excited whispers broke out around him.
Suddenly a massive tiger came prowling out of the box.
The audience gasped.
Marcus couldn’t believe his eyes. It was déjà vu all over again.
The sleekly powerful Bengal tiger was led on a chain by a man dressed as a safari guide. As the huge animal prowled toward Samara and the children, a nervous giggle rose from the crowd.
Marcus tried to calm his breathing, telling himself to relax.
The kids weren’t remotely nervous or scared. They were watching the tiger with the same fascinated glee Marcus had seen on their faces during their safari adventure.
Halfway down the runway, the man stopped with the tiger.
The audience sat enthralled, waiting to see what would happen next.
Suddenly a small tiger cub wandered out of the box.
It was followed by another. Then another.
The audience broke into delighted laughter.
As the three tiger cubs joined their mother, Samara and her three children walked up the runway to greet the family of tigers. The mother lay down on the stage, tail swishing contentedly as Samara—ever the tiger whisperer—knelt to scratch the animal behind the ear. When the tiger rubbed its massive head against Samara’s shoulder, the crowd reacted with awed exclamations and enthusiastic applause.
At the other end of the stage, another safari guide suddenly stepped out of the giant box. To everyone’s surprised delight, she was carrying a baby cub in her arms.
