EPILOGUE - Three Months Later
Standing at the counter, Illona does her best to spread peanut butter onto bread, her fingers messy and tacky from tussling with the plastic knife. Gonzo lounges a few feet away, studying her, smacking his lips every few seconds, pining for a taste. I slug down my coffee and smile as her tongue juts out with the required concentration.
“Doesn’t it feel good to help make your own lunch?” I ask.
“Actually, no, it doesn’t feel good. It feels sticky.”
She raises her hands, slathered in peanut butter.
“Come, I’ll finish,” I say, turning the faucet on for her and tossing her sandwich into a container.
Olan bounds down the stairs holding a brush and a handful of ties. He comes up right behind Illona as she washes.
“My hair!”
“I got you,” he says.
Olan readies himself for action. Illona stands with her back to him, petting Gonzo while her dad works his magic. Gonzo purrs and rolls over so his belly can be rubbed. I watch as Olan masterfully separates her hair into sections and begins to braid. He works swiftly, but there’s such attention and care. It swells my heart and reminds me why I love his beautiful soul so much.
“Are you ready for first grade?” Olan asks, pulling and brushing.
“I mean, I guess so. It won’t be as fun as kindergarten, though, right, Marvin?”
“Sweetie, nothing is as much fun as kindergarten. But first grade is pretty awesome. And Mrs. Chapman is amazing. You’re going to love her.”
“Well, we know one thing. Mrs. Chapman isn’t nearly as handsome as your kindergarten teacher,” Olan says, winking at me.
“Daddy!”
“Well, he’s not wrong,” I say and lean over Illona to give him a quick kiss.
“No kissing before breakfast!”
“Sorry, princess.”
I catch Olan’s eye. “And are you ready for your first day?” I ask him.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. I feel good about this.”
Over the summer, with some encouragement, Olan applied for and secured a job as a senior engineer at a local aerospace company. GreenSpace hopes to change rocket technology by utilizing greener, earth-friendly fuels, and Olan couldn’t be more jazzed about it. The best part? He’s working part-time, so most days, we’re all able to head to and from work together. Seeing him ease into the professional world in a healthy, balanced way brings me joy. He’s taking care of himself, and I know that bodes well for us.
I glance at my watch, and a slight panic takes over.
“Um, we have got to get going. Now.”
“I’m almost finished. Just one more twist, add a tie, and voilà!”
“How do I look?” Illona asks me, not quite trusting her dad to assess his own work.
“Gorgeous. Stunning. Lovely. Shall I go on?”
“You’re so silly,” Illona replies. She pulls me down. Our faces grow closer until she gives me a peck right on my lips, and I swear, receiving affection from her transforms me. I love my students, truly, and I think most of them love me, but this is different. This feels more grounded, more special. I never understood how magical familial love from a child could feel. Olan and I haven’t talked about making anything official yet, but we’re so clearly a family. It’s only a matter of time.
“All right, you two, let’s clean this mess up and get going,” Olan says, handing us each a brown bag. Breakfast and lunch for me and a snack and lunch for Illona.
Illona and I throw our backpacks on, and Olan grabs his new gray canvas briefcase. It’s a gift from me for his new job, and it’s classy and gorgeous just like him.
We rush out of the house, Illona skipping ahead of us, and Olan takes my hand and begins a gentle jog to keep up with her, tugging me along.
“Come on, lazy bones. We’re going to miss the ferry!”
When Olan told me he was buying a house on Peaks, I was surprised. And worried. I assumed I’d see him less because even though the ferry only takes a short twenty-five minutes, a whole expanse of ocean lies between Portland and the island.
“Marvin, you really are hard-headed sometimes. I’m buying this home on the island for us. I want you to live with Illona and me there.”
“Oh. You do?” was my brilliant reply.
We reach the dock, and there’s no line. The ferry already swells with morning commuters. We dash on with only a few moments to spare before the loud horn announces our departure.
“Can I?” Illona asks, pointing up the stairs.
“Yes, but be careful. We’ll be right behind you,” Olan says.
She darts up the stairs to watch the island disappear as we sail away. Where she gets all her energy eludes me, but I wish I could bottle it up for those Monday mornings when I’m dragging.
The ferry rumbles to life, and Olan pulls me down from the first step. He’s found a spot right under the stairs and gently pushes me against the cold metal wall of the boat. Without speaking, his lips are on mine, and with the throngs of people on the boat, I’m certain someone might notice us, but I really don’t care. His searing kiss, delivered as if his life depends on it, makes my blood roar. I wrap my arms around his back, pull him close, and moan a little into him because this gorgeous man has changed my life.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“One more.”
And he kisses me again, gently this time. What I call his “I love you” kiss. He takes my hand, our fingers entwined as we climb the stairs to the upper deck. We find Illona near the front, and she leaps into my arms for a better view. Her legs wrap around my waist, the strong ocean breeze doing its best to blow our hair like everyone else’s, but failing miserably against the tightness of our curls. I squeeze Illona for both warmth and affection as Olan gathers the two of us up in his arms. I lean into him. He’s strong and steady, and we head toward the mainland for our collective first days. Together. As family.