Epilogue
Mallory
"I'm telling you, get the blood orange margarita. Forget your tequila and soda nonsense." Vivi slams a palm on the table at King's Ransom.
I tip my head, survey her reddish-orange drink with the sugar rim. "Fine," I concede. "Next drink."
Vivi slides her fresh drink to me, nudging mine out of the way. "This drink."
I look out, find my hot husband's eyes. Send him a wink. It's our first night out since little miss Simone Maggie came screaming into the world. Sleep-deprived and knee-deep in infant clothes, Hugo and I are in love with each other, and our sweet girl.
The healing in my heart started by Hugo has been amplified by Simone. She's a reminder of something beautiful and good and true. Splendor born from agony.
She looks nothing like her biological father, an unexpected bonus. Where he was fair-skinned and light-haired, she is olive-toned with hair that matches my mahogany. She looks like me, but really, she looks like Hugo.
Vivi's waiting on me to sip my new drink, to tell her I love it. I think it's the chef in her. She wants people to love what she loves, to share with them what makes her happy.
I oblige, sip my tart sting of tequila and citrus, and nod. "Ok, yeah. You win. This is my new drink."
Daisy gives a ladylike snort. "Champagne or bust."
Vivi pretends to gag.
I catch Hugo's eye again. He's sitting with Duke and Penn at the next table. Vivi was adamant we spend the first hour having conjoined guys' and girls' nights. She'd said it was no fun being the fifth wheel, and she didn't want to be forced to make conversation with Paper Towel Duke while the couples canoodled. I'd had to ask for clarification on the less-than-kind nickname for Duke, and Daisy explained it had something to do with Penn saying a wet paper towel can't fulfill its intended purpose, and that's what Duke is.
Daisy swallows down her drink, glancing at Penn with hearts in her eyes. "It almost feels like everything that happened with Duke and Penn was a dream."
"Not for the rest of us who lived it with you," Vivi grumbles.
Daisy rolls her eyes. "She's still mad because she made a lot of food for my reception and then I didn't get married."
I laugh. "I really wish I could've watched all that go down. "
"You can," Vivi says dryly. "It's on YouTube."
Immediately I pull my phone from my purse and watch the video. I cackle, and gasp, and ogle my husband in his suit. He wasn't the focus of the video, and he only makes a brief appearance, but in my opinion he stole the show.
Sonya texts me a picture of Simone sleeping in her arms. She reports Simone's last feed, how many ounces, her most recent diaper change. Sliding off my stool, I slip over to Hugo and present my phone to him. He gazes lovingly at our daughter, reading the text from his mom. "That's one ounce more than she had at three o'clock this morning," he notes.
Penn and Duke share a look. Hugo notices, and says, "You fucks can fuck right off."
Penn points a stiff finger across the table. "There's the man we know and love."
Now that I've infiltrated the guys' table, the separation is null. Penn matriculates to the bar, where he orders a refill for Daisy and delivers it to her. She rewards his thoughtfulness with a long and slightly obscene kiss.
The speakeasy's false wall opens, and a brick wall of a man steps through. He has a mop of curly, dark hair, and a round face. Shoulder to shoulder, I think he'd outmeasure a yardstick.
"Ambrose," Hugo booms. He's off his stool, arms open, lumbering toward his best friend. Hugo is a big man, but when he hugs Ambrose, it's almost comical. Penn and Duke follow, greeting Ambrose with hugs and masculine back slaps .
Daisy and Vivi hang back, and when Ambrose approaches he pauses, smirking at Daisy in a friendly, familiar way. "My lady," he says, sweeping his arm to the side. Daisy grins, hopping off her seat and jumping into his arms.
"They have a running joke," Vivi explains, eyes on Daisy as she touches Ambrose's forearms, asking him questions. "Daisy says Ambrose is like the giant from The Princess Bride."
I squint my eyes and cock my head. "From the right angle, I can see it."
"But, like, one hundred times hotter," Vivi adds.
I turn a sharp glance at Vivi. "Um, what?"
"You have eyes," she sasses. "Use them."
Playfully, I cross my arms in front of my chest. "I only have eyes for your brother."
"Perfect answer," she murmurs, gaze staying on Ambrose.
Daisy steps back and Ambrose looks to the table, at me and Vivi. The only two people who haven't greeted him yet.
He extends a hand my way. "Mallory, it's nice to officially meet you. Congrats on Simone."
My hand is swallowed up by his. "It's nice to meet you in person, finally. Thank you for agreeing to be Simone's godparent."
He glances at Vivi. "Me and Vivi, godparents."
"We'll teach her all we know," Vivi jokes.
"This should be good," Ambrose adds, the corner of his lips turned up when he trains his eyes on Vivi .
Vivi finally slips from her seat. "Come here, you big lug. What do you think you're doing, making me wait to say hello to you?" She steps into Ambrose's embrace, dwarfed by his size.
"Saved the best for last," he says, fumbling for an appropriate place to set his big, meaty hands on Vivi's body.
Their reunion feels different than everyone else's. It's hard to describe, but the word tender comes to mind. Makes me think of the way Hugo said Ambrose was like a brother to him, and therefore a brother to Vivi.
I'm not so sure about that.
Ambrose melts into the dynamics of the group. With him present, Vivi doesn't have to feel like a third wheel. They chatter, and I listen. Just like I prefer to do.
Hugo brings me another margarita. I've been preparing for this night, pumping breast milk so Simone has plenty to eat while I wait for the alcohol to leave my system. He stands beside me, rubs circles on my back. Places a kiss on my forehead and whispers, "I can't wait to get you home."
We've only been cleared for sex for a couple weeks, and it's been slow going. We're enjoying each other, the process, the forced slower pace as my body adjusts following birth. Hugo is patient, and I never feel like he wishes for more, or different. He meets me where I am, always.
Soon, Simone will legally be Hugo's. But our family is already a happy one.
Ambrose is answering question after question about the NFL, and his knee surgery. "Dr. Cordova—the doctor who did my surgery—isn't confident I'll ever play the same. He's seeing evidence of arthritis." Ambrose says it like he's reading off a grocery list, but his eyes sweep to the beer in his hands. I'm betting he has a lot of complicated feelings on the matter.
I finish my drink, and Hugo announces we're taking off. "Simone will be up approximately three hours after I fall asleep," he says, but he's not complaining. Honestly, he sounds giddy.
"Get out of here, Mom and Dad," Duke jokes. "Tell my sister I said congratulations the next time you talk to her."
"You could call Cecily yourself," I say gently. There are some odd family dynamics there I don't understand.
"Nah. She's doing her best to forget Olive Township exists. I won't interrupt that."
Duke's well-wishes for Cecily are regarding her contribution to the recent success of Case Files . Without her, we wouldn't have been able to wrangle the content and package it in bite-sized, interesting pieces.
Liane was recently moved to the state prison, where she will serve a life sentence for the murders of my sister, Simon, and the red-haired man we learned was named Brigham McNealy. His body had been discovered at the bottom of a canyon not too far from Olive Township only eight years ago. Mayor Rooney is currently in jail as he awaits trial for money laundering, fraud, and tax evasion.
As for the photos of me sleeping, Braxton the night manager may have deleted the footage from the security cameras that night, but he got blackout drunk at a local sports bar and confessed his perversion. By his own admission, he has a thing for the pregnant form. The pictures the police found on his phone confirmed it, and he's currently sitting in jail, waiting to have the book thrown at him. It's probably better than what would've happened to him had Penn and Hugo found him first, but I wouldn't mind Braxton getting a helping of prairie justice. I felt violated all over again when I found out, but I've done my best to move on. Putting any more emotional energy into it only prolongs the situation.
After a handful of margaritas, I'm supremely grateful Hugo does Simone's night feedings. When she wakes in the morning, I get up with her. I'm hungover, but the sweet baby in my arms makes me feel better. Hugo finds us in the rocking chair he placed next to the fireplace in the living room.
"How are my girls?" he asks. He's sleepy and squinty-eyed. And so handsome.
"Better now that you're awake." I smile up at him. He drops a kiss on my forehead.
"I was thinking, today is the day I trade in my car."
"What?" I stare, shocked. "You love that car."
He shrugs. "It's not practical. I want a car seat in both of our vehicles."
That afternoon, with Simone sleeping in her stroller, Hugo says farewell to his precious, bright red sports car.
He glides a palm over the hood. "Goodbye, Welcome Wagon. Caio Chariot. Home Hooptie." Then he glances at the sensible SUV he has chosen. "Hello, Dad-mobile. "
I kiss his cheek. "Fatherhood looks good on you."
That night, with Simone sleeping peacefully on Hugo's chest, I lay out beside them on the swing bed. So much of my life spent searching for things. And to think, it was all only two hours away. Waiting for me out here, on an olive orchard.
The End