Epilogue
Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER…
Ryder
I live for Sundays, when I get to see my kids, who are now nine, seven and five. They’re growing up so fast, which breaks my heart. I’m missing everything with them, but at least I get an hour a week to catch up and to make sure they know I always love them, even when I can’t be with them every day.
Kids are amazingly forgiving, and I’m lucky they still love me, too, despite everything I’ve put them through. They send me pictures and letters in the mail, they bake treats to bring to me, and they always tell me they love me, even if I don’t deserve it.
I had a rough couple of months after Marty attacked me in the courtroom, breaking my jaw and leaving me with a concussion that messed me up for a long time. They charged him with a misdemeanor, which was fine with me. I don’t blame him for his outrage. I deserved it, but I could’ve done without having my jaw wired shut for two months. That sucked.
About six months after I began my sentence at the state prison in Cranston, I received divorce papers from Caroline. Though she brings the kids to see me every week, I hadn’t heard a word from her in all that time, so I wasn’t entirely surprised. But it hurt like hell to sign those papers and return them to her. I did it because it was what she wanted, not because I don’t love her anymore.
I’ll always love her, but our marriage ended the day I was arrested at the ballfield.
Some things you can never come back from. Lying to my wife for most of a decade is one of them, and I own that along with all my other failings.
I’ve found God in prison.
That might sound funny coming from me, but after completely tuning out everything that happened in church as a kid, I’m comforted by the forgiveness God offers to all his creations, even the ones like me. I attend a weekly Bible study and have read the good book cover to cover twice now. I learn something new every time I pick it up, and it brings me tremendous peace, which was hard to find for a long time.
Bridget tells me there’s talk of an early release for me, perhaps as soon as a year to eighteen months from now. I don’t get my hopes up. I’ve learned to take things one day at a time, knowing if or when I get out, I’ll have all new challenges to face. For one thing, I’m not sure how I’ll support myself as a convicted felon. For another, Caroline has full custody of our children, so my time with them will still be limited.
That’s okay. I’ll take what I can get.
The kids always come into the visitation room alone.
Caroline waits for them outside the door.
They hug me and kiss me like they always did, clamor for my undivided attention and share the latest news about their friends, the sports they’re playing, their new dog and their cousins.
“Houston is building us a swing set,” Grace tells me.
The words hit like a flaming arrow to my heart. “Houston is?”
“He’s Mommy’s special friend,” Elise adds.
It’s all I can do to keep breathing after hearing that. Of course she’s seeing someone. But Houston, who was my friend? That hurts.
“Are you mad, Daddy?” Miles is old enough to understand how these things work.
“Not at all. Your Mommy deserves to be happy.” That much is certainly true.
We play a game of Chutes and Ladders that they brought with them.
Elise wins for the first time ever and is so delightfully excited that it brings tears to my eyes.
Our hour is up long before I’m ready to let them go.
“Hey, guys, give me some big hugs to last me a whole week.”
They always deliver.
“Are you safe in here, Daddy?” Grace asks me softly.
“I am, honey. Don’t worry about me.”
“We miss you.”
“I miss you, too. But keep those letters coming.”
“I’ve saved all the ones you’ve sent me,” Elise says.
“That’s very sweet.”
Miles hugs me last.
“Love you, buddy. More than anything in this world.”
“Love you, too, Dad. I can’t wait for you to come home.”
I hope he knows I won’t be coming back to his home, but I’ll be somewhere close by where I can see them far more often than I do now. That’s my hope anyway.”
The door opens, and the guard tells the kids it’s time to go.
When they hug me again, the girls are tearful, but Miles is stoic as always. He puts a hand on each of their shoulders to guide them out of the room.
Caroline appears at the door, looking uncertain.
I’m surprised to see her. It’s the first time she’s tried to see me here.
“Are you doing all right?”
I shrug. “As well as can be expected.”
She nods.
“Are you seeing Houston?”
The question catches her by surprise.
“The kids said something.”
“I… Uh… Yes, I am.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He’s a very good guy.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“I…I should go.”
“Thank you for bringing them to see me. I live for the time with them.”
“They do, too. Take care, Ryder.”
“You, too.”
After they leave, I ask if I can use the phone. Most of the time they say no, but sometimes, such as now, they say yes.
Cam
I wait until the tea is fully steeped before I carry the delicate cup and saucer to my mother in the three-season room where we spend most of our time these days. A few months after that dreadful day in court, we sold both houses and moved to Tampa. My mother has her own suite off the main part of our house. The kids love having her living with us, and she’s adjusted well to a whole new life after losing her husband so dramatically and then sending her eldest son to prison.
Bridget was able to plead Sienna’s assault charge down to a misdemeanor. She had to pay a thousand-dollar fine and was ordered to perform a hundred hours of community service.
We moved right after she completed her sentence.
I’ll be honest. I thought about divorcing her after her performance in court, but in the end, I decided to stay with her for the sake of our kids. Our marriage is a work in progress. We have good days and not-so-good days, but we’re sticking it out as a family in this new life we’re making for ourselves far from the only home we’ve ever known.
I got licensed to practice law in Florida and landed a job that pays the bills. It’s nowhere near what I made in Rhode Island, but I’m hoping I can find something better after I get some time on the job at this firm.
Every day that goes by here without our past coming back to haunt us is a blessing. That wouldn’t have been possible at home where everyone knew what my brother, father and wife had done.
“How’s the tea, Mom?”
“It’s perfect, honey. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mom suffers from melancholy that’s new since that terrible autumn, but being with my kids helps. She loves to walk them to and from the bus stop, and it’s helpful to have her here to watch them any time we get the chance to go out, which isn’t often.
It’s odd to live such a solitary life when we’re used to being surrounded by lifelong friends. If I’m ever lucky enough to have that kind of community around me again, I’ll never take it for granted the way I used to before everything went to shit.
My phone rings with a call from the prison in Cranston, Rhode Island.
I accept the charges.
“Hey,” Ryder says. “Thanks for taking the call.”
I didn’t take calls from him for a year after that day in court. My mother asked me to talk to him for her sake, so eventually I did.
“What’s up? Isn’t it visiting day?”
“The kids were here. They just left.”
“How’re they doing?”
“They’re great. It amazes me how unfazed they are by coming to see me here.”
“Hopefully they won’t remember much about this time in their lives.”
“They told me Caroline is seeing Houston.”
“Oh. Really?”
“Yeah, the kids said something about him building them a new swing set and how he’s Mommy’s special friend.”
“That must’ve been hard to hear.”
“I guess it was bound to happen eventually. Just didn’t picture her with my friend.”
“It’s not like he was a close friend, and she didn’t know him at all through you.”
“Still. It sucks. I know it would be a huge longshot, but I was sort of still hoping we might put things back together after this…”
“That’s not going to happen, Ry. With or without Houston in the picture.”
“Like I said, it was a longshot.”
“What matters is you still have your kids in your life.”
“I know. How are you guys?”
“We’re fine. Lucy has an art show tonight that she’s excited about, and Duncan is becoming quite the basketball player. The little ones are getting so big. I’ll send you some new pictures.”
“I’d love that. Tell them I miss them and love them.”
“I will. Do you want to talk to Mom?”
“Sure.”
I hand my phone to her and watch her face light up at the sound of Ryder’s voice. Wanting to give them time to talk, I go back inside and head for my home office, where I sit behind the desk and stare at the picture of my parents and siblings from when we were all still living at home.
That seems like another lifetime now.
Caroline
We get home from our weekly visit at the prison—and even after all this time, I still can’t believe I’m taking my kids to see their father in prison—to find Houston in the backyard putting the finishing touches on the new wooden playset he built for the kids. The one Ryder installed years ago had begun to rot, which I took as a metaphor for my life.
The therapist I worked with after Ryder’s arrest and incarceration encouraged me to take the kids to see him, to keep him in their lives because that was in their best interest, even after everything that’d happened.
At first I balked at the idea of taking them there.
But they missed him so much that eventually I decided to do it.
I’m glad I did. They’re happier when they get to see him, which makes things easier for me.
My brothers came from Pennsylvania one weekend, shortly after Ryder left, and converted our basement to an apartment that’s now rented to a lovely older woman named Mrs. Dugan. She’s become an extra grandmother to the kids and is always happy to watch them for me. Between her rent and the proceeds from my baking business, I was able to hold on to the house. There’s not a lot leftover for extras, but we have everything we need.
And I have Houston, who’s been the greatest blessing to me and my kids in this strange new life we’re building for ourselves.
What started as friendship has recently turned into something more, and I couldn’t be happier to have that with someone who’s been right there for me during the worst time of my life. Knowing how fragile I was for a long time after Ryder left, Houston never pushed for more than friendship.
He called and texted regularly to check on me, came running once when I had a racoon in my trash can and has been an awesome friend to me.
It took me asking him if he wanted more, and his enthusiastic yes , to move us out of the friend zone into where we are now, which is a very nice place to be.
Last night, we got carried away on my sofa after the kids went to bed and nearly ended up going all the way. I giggle at that term from high school. Tonight, he’s invited me to dinner at his place, and I’m fully aware that this time we’ll seal the deal.
Mrs. Dugan is watching the kids, and I’m going to have sex with Houston Rafferty.
I can’t wait.
It’s amazing, really, how I once thought I’d found the man I would spend the rest of my life with and how stupidly happy I was with him. I built my entire existence around him, and when he was gone, I was left in pieces. I’ll never let that happen again. As much as I think I might be in love with Houston, I’m proceeding with caution.
There’s so much at stake with my sweet kids and their beautiful hearts.
But as I watch Houston push them on the swings and laugh at their endless questions while patiently answering them all, I know I have nothing to worry about with him. He’s as nice and as dependable as he is sexy.
He catches me watching him and smiles.
A flutter of excitement zips through me.
Houston leaves the kids to play and comes over to see me. “Hi.”
“Hi. It looks great. Thank you again for doing all that work.”
“I loved every minute of it.”
“Including the part where you had to start over halfway through?”
“Even that.”
“Liar.” I give him a gentle shove as he laughs.
“How’d it go today?”
“Same as usual.”
“How are you?”
“Same as usual,” I say with a small smile.
He wraps me up in a hug that makes everything better. His hugs have become essential to me. “How soon can we escape?”
“I need an hour to get them fed, and then I’m all yours.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
Denise
How can my baby boys be three years old already? I’ve been asking myself that for weeks as I planned their birthday bash.
They come running into the room together—always together—blond and rosy-cheeked and full of mischief. I love them madly.
I lean over to hug them. “Who’s excited for their party?”
“We are!”
“They’re beyond excited,” my dad says when he emerges from the hallway where the kids’ bedrooms are.
We’re back to living in Fairfax County, near many of the people Kane and I went to high school with. We have more than fifty kids coming to the party, which is insane, but we couldn’t leave anyone out.
Kane comes in from the garage carrying the cake I asked him to pick up for me.
“We wanna see,” Hudson shouts as he runs over to Kane, nearly taking him out at the knees.
Hayes is right behind him to see the fire truck cake I ordered three months ago.
I get there just in time to save the cake.
Kane laughs and kisses me. “Just another day in the loony bin.”
“This one will be extra loony.”
“Fifty kids you say?”
I give him a hapless shrug.
“I need a drink.”
My dad comes up behind me and squeezes my shoulders. “You’re amazing, Dee.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You do it all and make it look so easy.”
“Aw thanks, Dad. I’m so glad you and Anita could come for the party.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it.” He turns me to face him. “I want you to know how proud I am of you and Kane and my beautiful grandchildren. You survived, Dee. And you thrived.”
“I had a lot of help.”
“And now you’re paying it forward by helping other young women who’ve been through what you did.”
“It’s very rewarding work.”
“Another reason why I’m so proud.”
I went to school nights and weekends for a year to get trained to work with the girls at the rape crisis center. At first, Kane and Dad were worried that it would be too much for me. At times, it is. But oh how I wish I’d had the kind of resources we make available to teenage girls in crisis. That would’ve made a huge difference for me, so I know I’m making a difference for them.
Charlotte and Levi come running in from outside to tell me they’ve finished putting the balloons around the yard.
The doorbell rings.
Kane rubs his hands together. “Let the madness begin.”
Blaise
“One more big push, Blaise. You’ve got this.”
I don’t have this. Not at all. I’m out of my mind from the pain, the pressure, the exhaustion and I’m freaking starving .
“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Jack says as he wipes the sweat from my brow with a cool cloth that’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
“Here we go!” the peppy midwife says. Even her name—Poppy—is peppy.
I want to smack the peppiness right out of her.
Jack supports my shoulders as I give a mighty push that finally yields results, nearly twenty-four hours after my water broke at home.
“Your beautiful baby girl is here!” Poppy announces.
Only when Jack wipes them away do I realize tears are streaming down my cheeks.
“You did it, Red. She’s gorgeous.”
They bring her to me, wrapped in a soft white blanket, and with one glance at her delicate features, I see he’s right. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, wow, look at her.” He wipes away his own tears. “She’s stunning just like her mother.”
“You have to say that. You caused all this.”
“Yes, I did.” He puffs his chest the way he has since we found out I was pregnant. “And P.S., it’s the truth. She looks just like you.”
I don’t see that, but I lack the strength to debate anything right now. I just want to stare at the baby I’d once thought I’d never have, back when my life was a complete mess. Hindsight has shown me that. Everything was a mess for the entire fourteen years I kept that dreadful secret.
The minute I told Houston what I’d seen, it was like my real life was finally able to begin.
Jack Olsen has been at the center of that new life.
We got married a year ago in a small, informal gathering in the yard at home. My entire family was there, along with a few unlikely friends, including Houston Rafferty and Caroline Elliott. I was shocked to hear of that pairing when they went public and wary of being around her at first, but she’s lovely. She bears me no ill will for the role I played in the demise of her marriage, which is remarkable.
She’s an example of grace and perseverance, and I’ve come to admire her for the way she’s carried on with her life.
Against all odds, Denise Messner has also become a close friend one text at a time over the last couple of years. She’s one of many people awaiting word of the baby’s arrival.
Life is such a strange and awful and wonderful journey.
I’ve also happened into a whole new career thanks to Jack, managing him and two of his RISD classmates. The work is fun, interesting and challenging, and that I get to spend most of every day with him is the best kind of bonus.
“What’s her name?” Poppy asks.
“Diana Elizabeth Olsen,” I reply, “in honor of Jack’s mother and my grandmother.”
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
“Hello, Diana the second,” Jack says tearfully.
He was overwhelmed when I told him I wanted to name her after his mother.
“Thank you so much for her, Red,” he whispers as he kisses me and then the baby.
I continue to be astounded by the many ways the truth has set me free, but nothing is more incredible than the love of this man and the life we’re building together.
He and Diana are worth all the hell and heartache I had to go through to get to them.
I’ll never take them or any of my many blessings for granted.