Epilogue #2
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.