Epilogue
TEN YEARS LATER
Jefferson
I trace my fingers over the marks on the door jamb.
“Georgeanne,47 inches.”
Below that:
“Nellie, 39 inches.”
There are so many more milestones that the marks don’t show, but I keep them all in my head to ground me.
It’s been 3,681 days since I met Georgie.
Three thousand six hundred and hundred and fifty days since we were married.
Our daughters are now ages 9 and 5, and it’s time to measure them again.
The house is quiet, which can only mean one thing.
I find my girls in the greenhouse with their mom.
Standing on her stool, Nellie wears safety glasses and rubber gloves while she watches Georgie pour a spicy-scented soap mixture into molds. Nellie has to be involved in everything Georgie does. We don’t let her handle the ingredients, of course, but wearing the proper safety equipment makes her feel important, and that’s what matters.
Georgeanne, meanwhile, sits cross-legged on the old magic sofa while reading a book. My wife has made extensive accommodations for our daughters’ comforts, as she spends so much time in the greenhouse and our little garden.
My wife loves having them near, but I try to lure the girls away occasionally, so Georgie can concentrate on her work.
“Hey, girls. Guess what time it is?”
The easily distracted Nellie turns toward me and hops off her stool. I laugh as she jumps up and down. “Is it time for the anniversary cake!”
“Almost. Aunt Olivia is bringing the cake in an hour, so you’ll have to wait just a little bit longer.”
She goes limp with disappointment. Georgie, finished with the soap for now, pulls off her gloves and safety glasses and laughs at our dramatic five-year-old.
Georgeanne rolls her eyes.
“I was going to say, it’s Sharpie time.”
Nellie perks up once again. “Sharpie time!”
Georgeanne sets down her book. “I guess I won’t be finishing my book before everyone arrives.”
“Come on, G,” I say. “I’ll let you ride on my back.”
“Sure, old man,” she jokes, lumbering past me as if I’ve asked her to pull weeds in the hot sun.
Nellie grabs Georgeanne’s hand and drags her out of the greenhouse. We follow them outside across the freshly mown backyard, already set up with balloons, tables, and chairs for the tenth-anniversary party.
“Our oldest is quickly turning into a pre-teen, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it,” Georgie says when the girls are out of earshot.
“I know what you mean. She’s stubborn like her dad,” I say.
“Come on!” Nellie shouts, dragging our oldest into the house.
“And the other one inherited her flair for the dramatic from Uncle Joaquin,” my wife remarks.
“Did they RSVP, by the way?” I ask.
I open the screen door, and my wife fixes me with a look that says I ought to know better. “What do you think? Have those two ever told us exactly when and where to expect them?”
I shrug and follow her inside. “At least they always seem to show up when we need them.”
“True.”
“Are your parents coming?” I hold my breath. I’m still not the biggest fan of the people who raised my Georgie. But I want my kids to have a relationship with their grandparents, despite it all.
My wife shrugs. “I told Dad they were welcome. Mom’s still not talking to me. She holds it against me that none of the siblings are choosing polygamy.”
“Sorry, babe.”I rub her back.
“Let’s focus on the party. Okay?”
As if we conjured Joaquin out of thin air, I hear the familiar rumble of the Charger’s engine.
Nellie is at the picture window, shrieking. “Uncle J! Auntie Jasmyn!”
My best friend scoops up our little one for a bear hug. Not even Georgeanne can hide her excitement as she goes in for a hug from her Auntie Jasmyn.
“How’ve you been brother?” Joaquin asks with a side hug as he holds Nellie with one arm.
“Great. How’s Sonja?”
He laughs. “Oh, I’m also good. Thanks for asking, jerk.”
Nellie taps her oversized uncle on the chest and gives him a withering look. “That’s a bad word, and now you have to put a dollar in the swear jar.”
“A whole dollar? The price went up since last time,” he says.
Nellie shrugs. “Inflation.”
Sometimes I still can’t believe I gave Sonja away as a wedding present to those two. But I’ve traded my sweet ride for a minivan. I console myself that it’s much safer, and I must admit I’m spoiled by the backup camera and other modern features.
“We were just about to measure the girls’ heights,” Georgie says. “Jefferson thinks they’ve grown since their birthdays.”
“Oh yeah!” Nellie shouts. “Put me down, Uncle J!”
Suddenly feeling competitive with her sibling, Georgeanne lines up first with her back against the door jamb of the hall closet.
Nellie pouts. “Me first!”
Georgeanne smirks. “Beat it, shrimp.”
“Daddy! She called me a name!”
“Don’t be a tattle tale,” Georgie admonishes.
I squat down so I can speak face-to-face with our five-year-old and whisper. “You tattle all you want, as loud as you want. That’s how we’ll know if you ever need help. Okay?”
She nods.
I look up at my wife, and all the adults in the room exchange looks.
“Your father’s right,” Georgie says.
Silence is compliance, after all. In the end, speaking out saved the day.
Jasmyn takes the Sharpie from me and draws the line over Georgeanne’s head. Nellie and Georgeanne switch places, and this time Joaquin does the honors.
Georgie remarks, “You were right, Jefferson. They’ve each grown a whole inch already. Wow.”
Joaquin looks like an idea has occurred to him, and he hands me the keys to the Charger and winks. He then turns to the girls and claps his hands. “I think I saw a trampoline out back. Let’s go bounce.”
The girls and their favorite aunt and uncle head to the backyard. Georgie and I stay back.
My wife spies the keys in my hands. She plucks them up and waves them in the air.
“Wanna go for a drive?”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
We don’t make it out of the driveway. I don’t have any desire to go anywhere but home.
Instead, I ease the seat back and drag my pretty wife onto my lap.
She laughs and shrieks, “Jefferson! What are you doing?”
“Making out with my wife,” I say.
I claim her lips as my hands plant firmly on her hips. Georgie sighs into my mouth as she not-so-subtly grinds forward.
“I love you, J.”
“I love you more, G.”
“I missed this car.”
“Shut up and kiss me again.”
Gladly. Anytime. Anywhere.
Georgie is my world, and I’m happy to lose myself in it. Forever.
THE END
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