Epilogue
LENNI
Nine Years Later
“More cheese? Really?”
I pause, a thick slab of Parmesan inches from my lips, and look over at Cam, who’s watching me from the doorway. “We’re hungry,” I say with a guilty smile.
“I’ve never seen anyone eat Parm by the pound.” Cam picks up the wedge of cheese from the counter, probably noting how much it’s shrunk since his last pass through the kitchen. “And this is the imported stuff too.” He bends down to talk directly to my belly. “Slow down, Tiny. Dad’s not making pro money anymore.”
I sweep a hand through his soft waves, my heart tugging just a little like it does every time he talks to the baby. After over a year of hoping for a positive pregnancy test, the day we finally got one was the happiest we’d felt in years, but since then I’ve been bumbling my way through my role as mom-to-be. Cam, meanwhile, was a natural from day one, talking to the baby like he expected an answer, searching for a house with the kind of backyard any kid would dream of, and working his ass off as a sports agent so he can spend the baby’s first year as a stay-at-home dad.
Cam surveys the kitchen counter, which is covered in half-wrapped cheeses, boxes of crackers, and various containers of nuts and olives. “Maybe you let me take over the cheese plate from here,” he says, a smile quirking his lips. “We need to save some for the guests.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Put your feet up? People will be here in twenty minutes. Take it easy.” He sees my face and shrugs. “Okay, go work if that’s what you want. Just don’t get sucked in. I need backup when the moms arrive.”
Today is our housewarming party, and it’s the first time Cam’s mom and mine will be in the same room in months. They’ve never been crazy about each other, and ever since our pregnancy announcement, I feel the competition ramping up for who’s going to win the “Best Grandma Ever” award. Spoiler alert: my mom will win on a technicality because Minnie has already forbidden anyone in the family from calling her a grandma. Still, I have to give Cam’s mom credit. She never boozes in front of my mom, not since learning about Mom’s struggles, and that’s saying something for a woman who drinks more calories than she eats.
“Hey, at least you can sneak a couple shots down in the basement,” I remind Cam.
“Nope. Sober sympathy, baby.”
Upstairs, I grab my laptop from my office and settle in a comfy chair in our bedroom that overlooks the front yard. Liam’s old blue matchbox car sits on the windowsill as it has in every place I’ve lived for almost a decade. It’s only family and close friends coming today, but I still feel a flutter of nerves. It’s the beginning of something new and exciting, something I’ve waited my entire adult life and half my childhood for.
In a few months, I’ll be a mother and the breadwinner for our family, if only temporarily, and I’ll be surrounded by the people I love. Mom and Nana and Grandpa spent yesterday and this morning touring condos and houses as they prepare for their move out here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom more excited about anything.
Gus started college a few weeks ago just a two-hour drive from our new place, and Mom can’t wait to devote herself to her new role as grandma. Aside from one brief single incident, she’s been sober since her rehab stay all those years ago and has kept the same job. She’s worked her way up to a managerial role, and because her company is nationwide, the move will allow her to keep the same position in a new town. Her salary isn’t amazing, but it’ll be plenty to cover her mortgage once Cam and I make the down payment. So what if that feels like a massive victory? I learned a long time ago it’s not my job to save my family, but I can’t help it if the fantasy revives itself every once in a while. Life’s been better since I learned to dream big again.
I open my laptop and scan the edits I started yesterday. After years as a journalist, I’m back in an editing role for the first time since college and the truth—which only Cam and I know—is that I’m not sure how long I’m going to last here. I work for an online magazine aimed at teaching young women how to apply feminist principles to everyday life, and while I love what we put into the world, I miss being a lowly writer.
Cam spent the first few years after college playing pro in Miami while I wrote for a small indie pop-culture magazine in Tampa where, despite shitty hours, shittier pay, and zero respect, my job was my lifeline. Cam and I had so little time together our jobs became our lives. I needed that; needed the work friends and the structure, and the creative outlet and the knowledge that even if things with Cam fell apart, I could still have a life that meant something to me. They were hard years, knowing that Cam lived surrounded by every kind of temptation, that on any given day there existed the possibility, however small, that I might get my heart broken. But I carried the truth in my heart, and it imprinted itself deeper every time I was in his arms: I’ll risk heartbreak for this love. I’ll risk anything. So they were beautiful years too.
Three hours later, the cheese plate is empty—just a coincidence that I’m seated directly in front of it—and the twenty of us are spread out in the living room, the only fully furnished room in the house.
“Is gift opening over?” I ask hopefully, surveying the floor now littered with tissue paper and boxes.
Nana smiles, pausing in her task of topping up glasses of wine and sparkling cider for everyone in the room. “Get used to it, sugar. All eyes will be on you next month at the baby shower.”
“Just one more if you can stand it!” Minnie says, rattling a small box wrapped in beautiful silver paper.
Just behind her, Jade catches my eye with a covert smile. Her hair is the color of strawberry milk, and she smooths a hand innocently over her braid while her foot works to slowly slide a small, overlooked gift bag under the couch where she’s seated. She winks at me, then turns to look at Reeve, who’s just stood up.
“Hold on, let’s give the parents-to-be a little break from the spotlight.” Reeve holds his freshly topped wine glass out in front of him. “I’d like to say a little something.”
“Always there to take one for the team,” Cam jokes.
Everyone turns to Reeve and his imposing form. “I’ve got a little reading here in dedication to the beautiful couple and the fucking phenomenal home they’ve welcomed us into.”
“Reeve!” Minnie whispers harshly, cutting her eyes toward my grandmother.
Reeve offers Nana a charming nod. “Apologies.”
“She’s heard worse,” my grandfather says. “Let the man carry on.”
Reeve waits until he’s recaptured our full attention. “Anyone who knows me—or has just heard of me—knows I’m a man of many talents. I win at basically everything; ask Cam, he’ll tell you.” Chuckles and eye rolls go around the room. “But there was this one time, years ago in my foolish youth, when I was wrong and Cam was right, and history has it forever preserved. In text message form.” He looks right at me, then pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolds it. Suddenly I’m nervous. “For a long time, I thought Cam was drunk when he sent me this text way back in the summer before we started college.Now I know he was just a little wiser than me.”
Oh, god. I can only hope Cam already knows what’s coming. But one glance at him and his raised eyebrows tell me otherwise.
“I hope you’ll remember there are children present,” Cam says, laying a hand on top of my belly.
“Perfectly G-rated, brother,” Reeve says.
My mom claps excitedly. “Let’s hear it.”
Reeve looks down at the paper. “Ahem,” he says unnecessarily and smiles, drawing out the moment in classic Reeve style. “A text from Cam, dated July eighteenth, just past midnight:
Cam: I thought between the two of us we knew every kind of girl that exists...
Reeve: I do. You’re not quite there yet.
Cam: Got you beat. Just met a new kind.
Reeve: Try me.
Cam: The kind that makes you want to stop pretending.”
Reeve folds the paper and holds my eye while the rest of the room breaks out in brief applause and exclamations about how sweet it all is. I should be blushing, but I’m not. I’m too overcome by gratitude for Reeve and everyone else in this room who have gotten me where I am now. I’m too much in awe of how much has changed and how much hasn’t. How Cam knew that very first night who I was and how long it took me to figure it out myself. The path out of my past wasn’t one I’d wish on anyone, but I don’t regret a single step. It’s brought me here.
And as Cam’s fingers close around mine, here is the only place I want to be.
THE END