Epilogue
Echo
Two years later…
J UST AFTER ELEVEN on Friday morning, Floyd knocked on my open office door and strolled inside, sitting down in one of my chairs across from my desk. “Hey, sweet pea, how ya feelin’?”
I settled my hands over my ever-expanding belly and smiled. “Other than having to pee every ten seconds, I feel pretty good, Floyd.”
I was due in two months.
Twins .
Boys.
God help me, I was growing two biker babies in my belly.
The club had bought Bridgewater and turned it into the most amazing senior living community I’d ever seen.
What I’d been told (in confidence, of course) was that the Dogs of Fire had a highly successful cannabis operation and since the money couldn’t be federally protected, they looked for other ways to protect it.
Real estate was one of the ways to do that, and buying a senior living home served as both a real estate transaction and a tax write off.
I was the director, and we had enough space to house two-hundred-seventy-six seniors.
Including apartments, ranging from three bedroom, all the way down to one bedroom, we also had hospital-style hospice rooms. Floyd was my VP of Senior Relations and helped with the day-to-day running of the facility.
He and Trina had fallen in love and gotten married six months ago, and both had decided that it was time to give up their homes and move into something smaller as they were both getting older, so they’d come up with a plan.
Archer and I bought Trina’s home two doors down from Booker and Dani, for a song, and in return, Floyd and Trina were given a place at Bridgewater for the rest of their lives for free.
Trina didn’t have children, so the profits from the sale of her home, along with the rent coming in from Floyd’s home, were put in trust until they decided what they wanted to do with it.
He wasn’t quite ready to sell, and no one was about to pressure him into doing that, so he rented it to a lovely young family who had two kids under the age of four.
Both Archer and I kept our starter homes and rented them out, which paid most of our mortgage, and helped us put a little aside for our children.
“Are you ready to go over our agenda for the day?” Floyd asked.
“You bet.” I grinned. “Lay it on me.”
“We’ve got more sign-ups for Charleston’s pottery class than she can handle, so she’s asked that we hire another instructor. She’s got someone in mind.”
“It’s not me, is it?”
Floyd laughed. “No, because I told her if she asked you to do it, you’d lose your mind.”
“Good man.”
According to the grapevine (that grapevine being my sister), Ezra had married some socialite named Natalie, and she was making him miserable.
I didn’t care, nor did I want to know, but Delta had still filled me in with great detail.
Good for him and his sad little life. He deserved everything he got.
Annette had not gone away quietly, unfortunately.
She’d moved to Montana and found someone else to sucker.
This time, she claimed to be selling works by native American artists and was even cashing in on a local government grant.
Of course, this was all bullshit. She was stealing works from students at the local community college and reglazing them.
As soon as Dani found out, she notified local authorities.
Annette was now serving fifteen years in federal prison for fraud.
How Dani had the juice to orchestrate such a speedy operation, I have no idea, but I had figured out a while ago, when it came to Don Mom, the less questions I asked, the happier I was.
After all, you can’t spell plausible deniability without ‘Dani.’
“It’s one of her friends from school,” Floyd said.
“Okay, have her send over her résum—”
“Here you go.” He slid a piece of paper in front of me with a wry grin. “Charley said she emailed this to you as well, along with a link to a gallery of her friend’s pieces.”
“She’s amazing,” I said, rubbing my belly.
“She is that,” Floyd agreed. “Melody will be back from Italy for a few weeks, and Charley asked her if she’d perform during our music weekend.”
“Do you even like Melody Morgan?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Ever since she and that Jason fella did that record of covers of Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, I’ve decided I’m her demographic. And the folks here also agree.”
I smiled. “If Melody doesn’t mind, and we have it in the budget, then let’s do it.”
“Oh, Melody’s not taking any money,” Floyd said. “She said Train’s gonna sing with her and it’s a chance for her to give back to her community.”
“At this rate, I’ll be able to hire another nurse.”
Floyd chuckled. “You can hire another nurse. Bryn’s put a pile of résumés on your desk to look at. ”
When Bridgewater opened its doors, Bryn was my first hire, and Charleston’s mother, Lily, was my second.
Both were phenomenal nurses, and both loved the elderly as much as I did.
They were also old ladies, which meant they had the backing of the club and would take care of this place at a level others might not.
We had over two-hundred residents at any given time, and by law we were required to have between twenty to thirty skilled nurses working for us.
I had forty-two. I also had two facility managers, one who worked night shift, one who worked day.
Plus, janitorial staff, activities staff, three doctors, and Floyd who kept everything organized.
The club also had a bevy of prospects who earned their patches by working at the facility, which gave me free labor, and our female residents loved the ‘eye candy.’ Some of the women even had T-shirts made up with sayings like, ‘Come and Teach this Old Dog a New Trick’ and ‘I like it doggy style.’ The guys loved every second of it.
The club subsidized Bridgewater, all so that residents who might not be able to afford it could live out the rest of their lives in comfort and peace.
We were looking at another building in Ridgefield, more so that the aging men and women of the club would have a place in the coming years. It was another way for the club to shelter their cannabis earnings and assist the community at the same time.
Word had gotten out about our facility, and we already had more applications than we had rooms .
“Right, I’m expected in the day room for pinocle with my honey.”
I grinned. “Well, you better not keep her waiting.”
He nodded, heading out of my office with a spring in his step that made my heart sing. As hard as it was for him to lose Judy, him finding Trina had given him a new lease on life, and I couldn’t have been happier.
Once he was gone, I picked up the stack of résumés and began to sort through them. I was so engrossed in my task, I didn’t hear Archer come in.
“Baby.”
I let out a little gasp and glanced up at him. “Hi!”
He closed the distance between us and leaned down to kiss me gently. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, you didn’t. I just wasn’t expecting you. I thought you had a client.”
“Passed out on the table. They scrapped the whole thing but told me to keep the money.”
“Don’t you have a no refund policy?”
He nodded with a chuckle. “Yeah, but they forgot what they signed when they signed my contract. Two lines into his piece, he decided tattoos were not for him.”
“Poor baby,” I crooned.
“Speaking of babies,” he said, spreading his hands over my belly. “How are my babies? All three of you?”
“We’re good, honey.”
“Are you staying off your feet? ”
“Like Floyd would let me do anything but.”
He chuckled. “Good man.”
“I hope you aren’t here to make me come home. I have way too much to do.”
“No, but how about a lunch break?”
I grinned. “That I can do.”
He helped me stand, kissing me once I was on my feet and then we made our way out of my office. Of course, it took us another twenty minutes to get out the front door.
Once the residents saw my husband was there, they all wanted a minute of his time, and of course, he obliged.
They didn’t care about me. No. I had an open-door policy, so they had access to me anytime they wanted me. But Archer? He came by two or three times a month, and they adored him, so they wanted his attention however they could get it.
Without letting go of my hand, Archer chatted with the residents, giving each one his undivided attention and making them feel as though they were the most important person on earth.
“Right, Miss Mary, I’m gonna take my lady to lunch,” Archer said, squeezing Mary Humphry’s hand, which he’d been holding for the last four minutes because she refused to let go.
She smiled up at me. “You’re a lucky woman, Echo.”
“Oh, I’m aware, Mary.” I settled my free hand on my belly. “I’m very aware.”
Archer chuckled, wrapping an arm around me and leading me out to his truck. He practically had to hoist me up into the cab which ended with me in fits of giggles, which, in turn made me pee a little.
My phone rang the second I’d secured my seatbelt and I answered it without looking at the screen. “This is Echo.”
“Hello, Echo, this is your mother.”
I laughed. “Hi, Mom. Sorry. I just got in Archer’s truck, so wasn’t looking at my phone.”
“It’s all good. I wanted to make sure Saturday’s still good.”
“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’re seven months pregnant with twins, my darling.”
I smiled. “I’m good, Mama. Besides, I just have to show up. You and Dani are doing all the heavy lifting for the shower, right?”
“Yes. Absolutely. We have it all under control. Warren and Archer are taking your dad and Oscar out on the boat, is that right?”
I glanced at Archer. “Yes. Will Oscar behave?”
“He will,” she avowed.
I snorted. “Okay. Well, I’ve told Archer he can chuck him overboard if he doesn’t.”
“I will tell him the same.”
I gasped. “Mom!”
“My sweet, sweet girl. If your brother chooses to misbehave in front of the former chief, then he’ll sit in those consequences. I think he’ll be okay, though.”
“Me too.” I grinned. “Okay, Mama, Archer’s taking me to lunch. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“See you then. Bye darling. ”
We rang off just as we reached Armando’s Kitchen.
As Archer lifted me out of the truck, I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I love you,” I said.
“Love you, too,” he replied, kissing me again.
“Thank you for my life. Thank you for our babies.”
“Back atya.”
He took my hand and led me inside as I reveled in our perfect little life.