Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER…
Ryder
Ilive 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.