Extended Epilogue Crisis Averted
Extended Epilogue || Crisis Averted
Harley || Six years later
“Dad!” The screech from down the hallway has Collins groaning as he lifts himself from between my legs, where he was enjoying his breakfast because we thought we had more time before our daughter woke up.
“You can’t go out there like that.” I chuckle, pointing to his crotch, “I got it, hopefully. Depends on what kind of crisis she’s experiencing today.”
“Thanks, but I’m not done with you.” He pecks my cheek as I walk by.
“What’s going on, Care?” I ask, entering the kitchen and the scene I’m greeted with has me folded over in laughter.
Our daughter Caroline, who was attending the Right Place, Right Time center (not as my patient), joined our family three years ago after we decided that conceiving naturally may not be an option but adoption could be.
It didn’t matter if I birthed the child; all we knew was we wanted to raise children together.
A fellow counselor came to me, expressing that she felt our home was the perfect fit for Caroline, and after months of getting to know her, home visits with the state and court dates, she became ours.
“Mom, it’s not funny.” She rolls her eyes at me, Precious sits on her shoulder while she tries to flip pancakes on the stove.
“You know, honey, all you have to do is put her on the ground.”
“I tried, she keeps jumping up, and I just wanted to make us all breakfast. I’m being nice, you know.” She waves a spatula at me like ‘duh, mom as if I wouldn’t have tried that already.’
I step over, pulling Precious into my arms and kissing my daughter on the crown of her head while I still can—she’s grown at least a foot and a half in the time she’s been in our care.
“Good morning, thank you for making breakfast. Do you need help?” I ask.
“Nope, I got it. Thanks, Mom.”
“Okay, well I’m going to finish getting ready for the day then.”
“Finish? Mom, you’re still in your mumu.”
“I was getting out of bed when a certain teenager started screaming from the kitchen.”
“You got me there. Should have the table set in twenty.”
“I’ll make sure both your Dad and I are out. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I step into our bedroom to find Collins still sitting on the edge of the bed and set Precious on our floor.
“Crisis averted.” I laugh lightly.
“What was it this time?” He asks, pulling me into his lap. “Butterfly in her bedroom? That one boy band broke up… again? She couldn’t find her phone? Kendall insisted that Reylo was the ultimate Star Wars coupling again?”
I laugh. I know that last one really irks my husband.
His daughter being part of the Star Wars fanverse over Lord of the Rings was almost his undoing.
We’ve convinced her to watch the movies with us but she just doesn’t appreciate them the way that we do.
At least she’s a hockey fan because that really might have sent him into tachycardia.
“Nothing quite so dramatic today. Precious was being a nuisance, and she was trying to make us breakfast.” Precious mewls at me as if she knows I’m talking about her before I continue, “Speaking of we need to be dressed and at the table in fifteen.”
“So we don’t get to finish what we started this morning?” He sighs at me as if I stopped him from working me over earlier.
“We do…. Just later. Parenthood, Baby.”
“Fine. Let’s shower quickly.”
“No shenanigans.” I kiss him, quickly heading into our en suite.
“No promises.”
“Care! Are you ready? The bus is leaving in ten.” I yell toward my daughter’s bedroom.
We’re supposed to be headed up to the cabin that Collins told me he mentally promised me eight years ago for Christmas.
Not only did we purchase a cabin, but all of our friends did too, all of which are nearly next to each other, after the annual Christmas trip became a thing.
“Bus? Mom, we’re literally getting into Dad’s truck to be stuck for like a million hours.” She hollers back.
“Not a million. Eight to twelve, depending on traffic. Don’t act like you don’t love our yearly cabin trip,” I say, approaching the entryway of her bedroom where clothes are strewn about as she throws last-minute things into her suitcase and pop music plays out of her phone.
“I do buuuut I hate the car ride.”
“Oh, come on, Caroline. It’ll be fun,” Collins says as he sidles up beside me, throwing an arm over my shoulder.
“Grams and Gramps are going to be here soon, so we need to get packed up.” I remind her.
“I’m coming, impatient freakin’ parents. Geez.” She sasses, thinking we didn’t hear her.
“Attitude.” Collins and I say simultaneously, checking our daughter and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
After Collins’ parents arrive and our “million hour drive”, we’ve all pulled up to our cluster of cabins. Everyone is tired from the trip but ready to celebrate Christmas for the eighth year together.
Gathered around the fire, we watch the kids struggle to keep their eyes open so they can hang out past their bedtimes as we sip on spiked apple cider and beers.
The kids and young adults sit in a small huddle far enough away to feel the warmth but close enough where they know we can’t hear them complaining about being here.
One day they’ll think of us for this, for giving them these memories and allowing them to experience life in this way.
“I can’t believe we’ve been doing this for ten years already.” Kodi sighs into her mug full of spiked apple cider.
“I can’t imagine spending our Christmases any other way.” Nik agrees, rubbing his beard.
“And one day… They’ll hopefully be bringing their kids here in a very long time.” Darcy tacks on, her voice taking on an emotional tone.
“Alright, let’s try not to make ourselves cry tonight.” Enid pipes up from where she’s perched on Conrad’s knee, rubbing a blossoming bump. They got started a little later than everyone else, but Enid was also young when she joined our group, so I don’t blame them for waiting.
“Kids, time for bed. Teens turn it in, but you don’t have to sleep.” Maverick commands of those under the age of twenty, no one looks to their parents for approval because they know we’ve already decided collectively what time we were all hitting the hay.
Collins and I follow behind Care as she walks to our cabin, clearly invested in some online video or texting conversation. Once we get inside, she scoops Precious up, murmuring goodnight and shutting herself in for the night.
“I can’t lie, I miss our view from the A-frame,” I mention as I stare out our bedroom window, waiting for Collins to join me for bed.
“This is like, almost an identical view.” He grunts, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I relax into his body.
“Sure, but that one holds so many memories for you and I. Before we were us.”
“This is true but now we’ve made different memories, and we’ll continue to make memories here.”
“Collins?” I say tentatively because I haven’t spoken to him about this, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart. I can feel my throat clogging with unshed emotion.
“What’s wrong?” He turns me toward him.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just… I want to give Caroline a sibling. I want to give another child a home, give them something like this to look forward to. A family to celebrate with.”
“Okay, we’ll call the adoption agent as soon as we get back.” Collins takes my face between his hands.
“You’re sure?”
“I am. What I’m not sure about is where you got the impression that I didn’t want to continue adding to our family, but I do.
Caroline was the most pleasant surprise and there are so many kids like her that need people like you as their mother.
” He smiles down at me before pulling my face to his, embracing me in his arms. A new memory made right here, in this moment, and many more to come for us.