Epilogue
JAKOBY- TEN YEARS AFTER GRADUATION
“ H ey, Dad,” I answer while I hustle around in the kitchen. Everyone will arrive soon and I want to make sure we have everything.
“Hey, kid,” he says through the video screen and I roll my eyes. He’s never grown out of the habit of calling me ‘kid’, even though I’m thirty-two. “Sorry we couldn’t make it today. We couldn’t find a flight out. But we’ll be there this weekend. We sent our gift ahead, though.”
I reach over the counter and grab the gift that’s wrapped in bright green paper. I hold it up to the screen. “Got it yesterday. He’ll be so excited.”
My dad smiles, not looking a day over forty.
He’s been doing better after he slowed down working himself into the ground.
After the accident, and his promotion to shift manager, he got promoted again to assistant manager of the plant he worked at before he retired about eight years ago.
He had a good 401k and they paid him for the sick leave he didn’t take.
Which was a lot, since he only took the time off while I was recovering, then he was back on the grind.
Now he lives in Florida with his second wife, my stepmom, Emma, who I absolutely adore.
They were supposed to be here, but with the weather on the East Coast, the flight schedule was sketchy at best. Better they wait and be safe.
My dad and I went to therapy a few times a week until I graduated, then we did online sessions with our therapist when I moved to California.
We unpacked a lot and talked through what we wanted for our relationship.
And we stuck to it. We talk at least three times a week, if not more.
I tell my dad everything. Besides Ethan, he’s my biggest supporter.
Even though I wished she would, my mother refused to get help for her alcoholism.
After my dad left her, she lost the house.
Last I’d heard, she was at the shelter that Ethan’s parents used to volunteer at.
That was about ten years ago. I don’t know where she is now.
I’ve tried to look for her, but it just stressed me out, so my therapist suggested I let it go until I could face my feelings about her.
After almost fifteen years of no contact, I still haven’t sorted them out yet.
“Good, good,” Dad says, smiling. “I gotta go, kid. The power keeps going in and out and if the storm gets worse, I want to have some battery left.”
I look at him, my stomach in knots. “Maybe you guys should move out here. I don’t like hearing about those hurricanes.”
“Maybe, kid. Love you. Emma says she loves you, and to give Jason and Mya a kiss from her. Give everyone our love.”
Bidding my dad goodbye, I hang up, feeling a little uneasy about him being there with the terrible weather. California has its problems, but none of them are hurricanes.
It’s been ten years since Ethan broke his record at USC, which still stands, though a lot of runners have come close.
We decided not to leave California, mainly because his coach was here.
But we also fell in love with the state.
The beautiful weather, the beaches, all the hidden gems we could explore.
While I stayed at USC for my master’s and doctorate, Ethan stayed so he could go to med school.
Yes, my husband, the overachiever, decided to go to med school and train for the Olympics simultaneously.
It was nuts that first year. Especially since the Olympics were only eighteen months after we graduated.
I barely saw him and when I did, he was exhausted.
It was a wonder he made it through his first year of med school.
But it was okay. I didn’t mind because he was following his dreams. I was really happy he chose me to share them with.
Even though he was away a lot with his training and med school, he made up for that in a big way.
After he won silver in his first Olympics for the two-hundred-meter, he proposed to me after stepping off the podium.
It was a wild experience, having strangers congratulate me and want to meet me.
But I kind of felt bad for the gold medalist, a Jamaican runner who was phenomenal.
Both he and Ethan got endorsement deals, but our engagementwas the talk of the sports world for months afterward.
Armor Crest, who held Ethan’s pro contract, paid for our wedding. They used some of the footage for their inclusion campaign for Pride month.
After the first Olympics, Ethan took a break for a year, and we did the normal married couple thing. Which wasn’t a big change from what we did any other time. But there were no late practices, no early morning drills, and no ice baths after a long session.
At his second Olympics, Ethan achieved his greatest dream of winning gold for the two-hundred-meter dash. And the American team won bronze for the four-by-two meter relay.
Shortly after he came home, Ethan announced his retirement. Even though he only did two Olympics, he said one gold, one silver, and one bronze medal were enough for him.
Now, he’s a pediatrician, like he told me he wanted to be all those years ago.
He’s amazing. He’s so good with kids. After the parents get over being starstruck by an Olympian treating their child, they see how great he is, and most don’t want to leave the practice.
He’s expanded to three clinics and rotates through all of them.
He sometimes works with Grace, who’s semi-retired, only taking on a few special cases a year.
Grace and Frank moved out to California when Frank retired, turning over the bank to a CFO he appointed.
While he’s a busy doctor with a still-growing practice, Ethan always sets aside a weekend where we can all sit and stargaze.
I step outside into the huge back yard— the one I’d begged Ethan for—and see him being chased.
Our now five-year-old son, Jason, and three-year-old daughter, Mya, are doing their best to catch him.
Jason has better luck because Mya’s little chubby legs can’t carry her too quickly.
She tries her best, running and laughing after her big brother and father.
She gives up on trying to catch Ethan and jumps on Jason’s back.
She squeals and says excitedly, “Got you, Jathen!”
We’re still working on her S sounds.
My little man laughs at his sister. “Got me, Chunk!”
Of course I nicknamed her Chunk. She’d always been a solid, chubby baby. She’s still a chubby toddler and super adorable.
We got a surrogate when Ethan was more settled in his practice and I had a job as a professor at USC.
We were ready to share our lives with some tiny bundles of joy.
That’s the main reason we got this huge house, with five bedrooms and three bathrooms. We love kids and plan to adopt a few more to fill the other rooms.
Speaking of a full house, I hear the doorbell ring and know things are about to get a little rowdy.
I hustle to the door and pull it open for Mitch, Elle, and their three kids. Six-year-old Mason, four-year-old Rayne, and eighteen-month-old Jacoby —that’s with a c, not a k—who’s asleep on Mitch’s shoulder.
They insisted on naming one of their kids after me, even though I told them it would be confusing when he got older. They didn’t listen, so here we are. Hopefully they give him a nickname so we’ll know who they’re talking to.
They got married a few years after we graduated, having stuck it out the whole four years of undergrad. It still makes my heart happy that they gave it a go in high school. Mitch is an engineer, which is surprising with how into the arts as he was, and Elle became a director for an ad agency.
Elle walks in and gives me a hug, then immediately laces her arm through mine. “Oh my God! Five years old! What a great age. I remember when Mason was five. He thought he was a big boy and you couldn’t tell him anything.”
She continues to talk a mile a minute, which hasn’t changed. Mitch rolls his eyes and grins at her while giving me an awkward one-armed hug, then points to our nursery. I nod and he goes to lay Jacoby down, coming back out with the baby monitor.
I escort the two adults—since the kids already ran out—to the backyard.
Elle drops the bag I didn’t notice she had in her hand on the table, along with the other birthday gifts we have outside for Jason’s birthday.
Before I can sit down and rest my leg, the doorbell rings again.
“You good?” Ethan asks from the table, rising slightly. “Want me to get it?”
I shake my head with a smile and walk to the door, a little slower this time.
Even though it’s been fifteen years since the accident, if I walk too much or stand too long, my leg starts to bother me. I don’t complain, because at least I have my life, and it’s a good one.
Dawn can’t say the same, though, and I’m not upset by that at all.
I was guilt-ridden for months after her verdict was read.
She claimed she was distracted and didn’t intentionally try and hit Ethan, and she didn’t take the plea deal that was offered to her.
One that would’ve saved Ethan and me from having to testify.
Her friends also testified against her, telling everyone that she said, on more than one occasion, that she was going to get rid of me or Ethan, that she was going to try to keep us apart even if it meant ending one of us.
She even told one of her friends that if she was driving and she saw him on the sidewalk, she’d swerve to hit him on purpose.
The nail in the coffin for her was my testimony. I was still pretty bad off, my leg nowhere near healed, even though the trial took place almost a year later. They showed the newspaper images Ethan’s dad tried to have removed. That was an especially tough day in court for me.
After it was all said and done, she ended up with twenty-one years, with a chance of parole after sixteen.
We got the letter in the mail a few weeks back about the parole hearing, notifying us we could come and give our recommendation for if she should complete the entire sentence or serve the rest on probation.
Honestly, I think she’s learned her lesson.
She wrote us a letter at around year eight, apologizing for what she did and asking for forgiveness.
I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her, since she almost took Ethan away from me, but I think she knows what she did was wrong and hopefully she’ll make better decisions with her life.
When I get to the door, I wipe my hand across my sweaty forehead and pull it open.
“What’s the point of you having a spare key if you don’t use it?
” I say to Crystal, while Ryder stands behind her trying to balance several gifts in his hands.
As Jason’s godparents, they spoil him like crazy.
They only got married about two years ago and both agreed they don’t want kids right away, so they spoil ours instead.
“That’s for emergencies.” She studies my face and sees that I’m trying to mask my pain. “Oh, shit, Ethan. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”
I wave her off but throw an arm over her shoulder. “Now I’m going to use you as a crutch, since you made me get up.”
Ryder finally gets the gifts he’s carrying under control, then loops an arm around my waist. “I gotchu, Koby. Crystal isn’t as strong as me.”
He’s right about that. Ryder decided he wanted to do strong man competitions while he was in college.
He’s won a few so far and he’s really popular in that scene.
People stop him on the street and ask for autographs.
Crystal pretends to hate it, but I know she secretly loves how much he loves what he does.
My best friend runs the bursar department at USC, with her MBA in Accounting.
She’s the youngest woman to hold the position.
Effortlessly, Ryder carries the gifts in one hand and helps me along with the other. I guess it pays to have a bodybuilder as a friend.
After he drops me off at my chair, he puts the gifts down, lets out a roar and chases the kids around the yard. They love when Ryder comes over, because they know he’ll entertain them all day.
Ethan looks up, seemingly glad for the break. He greets Ryder, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. After he lets go, Ryder takes off to have tickle fights with the kids, and Ethan greets the rest of the guests.
When he’s done, he looks over at me, a look of concern on his face. I shake my head but beckon him over to me. I love seeing him like this. So happy and free, doing what he loves and being an amazing father to our kids.
As he walks over to me, I stand up, ignoring the pain in my leg. He pulls me into his arms and gives me a gentle kiss. “You okay, Creep?”
I nod, then look down when I hear a small voice say, “He’s not a creep, Poppa. He’s Daddy,” Jason says in his most serious five-year-old voice. We all laugh, making Jason scrunch up his face for a second, then he runs off to play with Mason and Rayne.
But my little man is wrong. To Ethan, I’ll always and forever be his Creep.
The End