Epilogue
Boone
One Year Later
The sun is bright and warm, the sky is clear and blue, and the sound of birds echoes through the pines. Weather like this is few and far between lately. For some reason, this summer has been exceptionally rainy. I guess it makes us appreciate the warmth even more.
Daphne meets me on the porch steps with a wide, beaming smile as she settles beneath my arm. “I don’t think my feet are going to make it today.”
“Toss ‘em up.”
I reach for her toes. “I’ll rub you down.”
I know she must be in pain because usually she fights me on the foot rub thing on account of having some very ticklish feet.
“Ugh,”
she moans leaning her head against the porch post as she closes her eyes, “that feels really good. Do you see how swollen my ankles are? I love being pregnant, but I think this last trimester is going to take me down.”
“Guess I’ll have to carry you then.”
She grins. “I don’t know… these babies are getting pretty big. At my last appointment, the boys were trending at around almost four pounds, and our girl was at three.”
We found out pretty early on that we’re having triplets. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more shocked in my life. Never been happier either.
“You two look cozy.”
Mrs. Robinson steps around the corner with a trellis in her gloved hand. I swear the woman doesn’t age. “If you’re tired, head home, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day.”
Daphne smiles sweetly. “No way. I’ve been sticking with this yard work so I can eat all that pasta salad I saw you making earlier. Did I see your famous pumpkin cookies too, because I’ve been craving those.”
Mrs. Robinson sweeps back a strand of hair and smiles. “You did. I even made the cream cheese glaze. I don’t make that for everyone.”
“Oh God. Let’s go eat now.”
Daphne glances toward me. “Can we eat now?”
“Sure thing, kitten.”
I swing her legs off my lap and stand from the steps to help my girl onto her feet. We found out she was pregnant shortly after I asked her to marry me. That was eight months ago now.
Eight months. How the hell has that been eight months? It doesn’t seem like that’s possible. Then again, some days it feels I’ve always been with Daphne, like there was never a time she wasn’t there. Maybe it’s a product of all the things we’ve accomplished this year. A new cabin by the lake, a wedding, the pregnancy, and getting to know each other on a deeper level. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted all at once.
Holding her hand, I help her up into the house, settling her in the recliner Mrs. Robinson keeps sat next to the window.
“I love that spot,”
Mrs. Robinson says, preparing a plate for Daphne. “My Moose used to sit there every day after work. He’d lean back, drink a beer, and watch the birds in the feeder. When he got too old to work, he spent more time in the chair, and he’d make these figures out of wood.”
She holds up a small piece of pine that’s been carved into a heart. “He made this one for me first.”
She sighs and hands Daphne her plate. “Anyway, you two come up with any names for the babies?”
“I think we’re going with Cade, Andrew,”
I glance toward Daphne who’s already taken a bite of pasta, “and we were thinking we’d name our little girl Robin in honor of you and Moose.”
“You’ve been such a huge part of our lives,”
Daphne adds. “We really love and appreciate you so much.”
A tear falls down Mrs. Robinson’s cheek, and I pull her to my side in comfort.
“I’m almost a hundred and one years old,”
she says, her voice shaking. “I’ve never heard a sweeter thing. That’s such an honor. Thank you.”
She turns to hug me, then makes her way toward Daphne. “I want you to have this.”
She rubs her frail fingertips over the edges of the heart. “Give it to Robin and tell her my stories.”
“No,”
Daphne pulls her swollen frame up out of the chair, glancing toward me before holding Mrs. Robinson close, “we can’t take this. It’s too special. Moose made this for you.”
“He did, and I’ve enjoyed it. Someday, I won’t be here anymore, and I’d like knowing it went to a little girl who might remember my life like a fairytale.”
Yeesh. I’m not a sensitive man by any means, but this is a lot.
I make my way to my wife’s side, holding her close as she holds Mrs. Robinson. “Thank you. We’ll make sure Robin knows all about the love you and Moose shared, and how much joy you’ve brought Rugged Mountain.”
“Good,”
Mrs. Robinson announces before walking back to the kitchen. “I’m sure I’ll live twenty more years, and I’ll get to tell her myself, but just in case… you have my heart.”
I can feel my wife choking back her tears. Daphne’s hormones have been wild lately. The most innocuous thing can melt her. For instance, yesterday, she cried over a missing pen that she really loved, and this morning she was in a full puddle over a sock that was too tight. Truthfully, it’s kind of cute, but I can’t say that out loud. However, at this moment, I get it. I’m feeling it as well.
“What about that playground and that pain in the ass brother of mine?”
I groan, changing the subject to give her a break. “He mention anything about approving that final permit?”
Mrs. Robinson laughs and shakes her head as she sets a heavy plate of pasta onto the table. “Doesn’t matter, honey. Y’all just finished the last slide for me, and I’ve got the last few pieces coming next week. He can shut it down if he wants but I’m not gonna let him hold up production anymore. How’s he doing, anyway? I see that girl of his is in town. I think her mama is sick.”
Shit. “Does Brooks know?”
Mrs. Robinson shrugs. “If not, someone outta tell him.”
I tried looking the girl up a year or so back, but I didn’t get far given I don’t know her pen name.
“Damn. I don’t know if this is good or bad.”
“What do you mean?”
Daphne sits back in the chair, twisting toward me. “I thought you said Brooks needed closure.”
“Well, he does, but it’s been like five years at this point. What if all this stirs up the past and then she leaves again? I mean, she’s only here because her mom is sick. She’s not here because she’s coming home for good, right?”
Mrs. Robinson shrugs. “I don’t know Kelsi that well, though I hear from her mom that she’s a very successful writer out in Los Angeles. She worked on the script for the new action movie coming out.”
She closes her eyes and looks away as though she’s thinking. “I can’t remember the name.”
I wonder if that’s why she left. Can’t say it’s an awful reason, though I’m not sure why Brooks wouldn’t have gone with her.
“Anyway,”
Mrs. Robinson continues, “her mom said she’s making lots of money, but she misses home. Isn’t that the way it is? Can’t have it all, I guess.”
The scent of Italian spice and pumpkin linger in the room as I glance toward my girl ferociously eating her dinner. The last few times I’ve seen Brooks, I’ve felt guilty for having everything he missed out on. I’ve tried to compartmentalize the emotion, knowing that at any point the man could’ve picked himself up and found love again, but I’m not sure that’s reality.
The truth is, people are all unique. Sure, loads of people share the same color hair, or the same body shape, or the same nose for that matter, but no one looks at me the way Daphne does. No one smells like her. No one has an infectious enthusiasm for the forest like her. No one listens to me the way she does, or holds me the way she does, or sounds the way she does. No one could replace her, or love me the way she can.
And while that makes me the happiest man on the planet, I can’t help but feel a sense of guilt that my brother lost all that.
Shit, maybe I’ve got more emotion going on here than I thought.
Daphne pops up from the chair and leans back, rubbing her stomach with a satisfied moan as Rocky perches his head against her lap, his tail thumping against the recliner. He’s come so far since we brought him home, and I know he’s happy to finally be settled.
“You’re a good boy,”
she says, scratching him between his ears, “and you’re gonna be an excellent big brother.”
The words hit me like a wave, and I glance at her in the glow of this simple moment where life meets magic. I was never one to believe in love at first sight, but it hits me again and again, day after day, like a spark of lightning straight from the heavens.
I love this woman, and I have since the very second I laid eyes on her. Call that what you will.
THANK YOU FOR READING.
READ KELSI’S STORY HERE.