Epilogue
In all the years I’ve lived here, we’ve never had snow on Christmas Eve. At least not the kind that lasted long enough to stick to the ground. But today, the lawn is absolutely covered in it.
Casey squeals in delight and bursts through the back doors the second Fletcher finishes helping him with his gloves. He sinks into the snow with each step, slowing him down, as he passes the swing set and tree house Fletcher finished building a few months ago. Then, once he reaches the center of the yard, he plops onto his back and fans his arms and legs out to make a snow angel.
Liam darts after him, and Gracie sputters and tries to grab him, but he’s already slipped through the door.
“You’re not even wearing your jacket!” she calls.
I see a flash of Liam’s grin as he falls to the ground beside Casey in nothing but his jeans and T-shirt.
I stay in the kitchen with Keava, who has Rowan in her arms. The snow is awfully pretty to look at—from here. Near the heating vent. With a cup of hot chocolate in my hands.
“I cannot believe you put our daughter in that,” says Leo as he presses a kiss to Keava’s temple and ducks into the fridge for the eggnog.
I, for one, think she looks adorable. The Santa hat is slightly too big, and the red and green tulle tutu is just ridiculous enough without being over-the-top. Rowan watches his every move, the way she always does when he’s in the room. It doesn’t matter how many other people are around, her eyes always find Leo.
“You’re just lucky I didn’t make you a matching one,” says Keava.
Fletcher snorts as he slides in behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Green is his color.”
“What do you think, Row? Maybe we can match next year.” Leo lifts her from Keava’s arms and hoists her up in the air, and she erupts in giggles.
“I said we should all get matching ugly sweaters,” offers Gracie as she slides onto one of the barstools.
I crane my neck to see what’s going on in the backyard. “Are they still just lying there?”
Fletch shakes his head. “Looks like Liam’s teaching him to make a snowman.”
I meet his eyes over my shoulder and slowly raise my eyebrows. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
His smile turns catlike. “Ambush?”
Liam and Casey are so engrossed in building the bottom of their snowman that they don’t even hear Fletcher, Leo, Gracie, and me sneak out onto the deck. It isn’t until we’re at the edge of the stairs, first snowballs ready to go, that Liam glances up.
“Fire!” calls Fletch.
“Take cover!” yells Liam.
Casey sprints for the playset as Liam scrambles to make a snowball of his own while taking the brunt of the attack. One of Gracie’s hits him square in the chest, and he looks up at her with betrayal in his eyes.
“Whose side are you on?” he demands.
She shrugs and throws another, this one hitting him in the leg.
“Nice aim,” says Leo.
“Thanks.”
Casey emerges from behind the slide with a battle cry, his little arms loaded with a stack of snowballs. Our group erupts in screams and pivots for the door.
Fletcher shields me as Casey and Liam fire, and Leo and I hurry back inside. I watch through the glass as Fletcher and Gracie exchange a look, nod, then plunge down the stairs and into the fight.
I laugh as I join Keava in the kitchen, and she shakes her head.
“They’re all going to be soaking wet, cold, and complaining in a minute.”
Leo smiles and kisses the top of her head. “You sound like such a mom.”
She exchanges a sideways glance with me. “Imagine that.”
“Are you guys heading over to your parents’?” I ask Leo.
He bobs his head as he inhales yet another sugar cookie. I think he’s cleared half the plate on his own. “We’ll go in a bit. Are you going to Fletcher’s parents?”
“Not tonight, but we’re doing brunch there tomorrow.”
“I’m surprised that—” Leo stops midword and winces.
I offer him a tight smile and sip my hot chocolate. “You can say it.”
That Casey’s dad didn’t even put up a fight to spend any part of Christmas with him? That he’s out of town God knows where yet again? I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering he did the same thing for Thanksgiving, but a part of me was. I didn’t exactly expect him to hang around with us sipping eggnog—but seeing Casey for just an hour or two? I didn’t think that was too much to ask.
Instead, he had a gift delivered with a premade card and his business signature at the bottom. What’s worse is Casey didn’t even ask about him. Even he knows what to expect by now.
After the fire, Julian had pleasantly surprised me. He kept checking in— him , not his assistant—and he showed up to help clean up the wreckage, brought over food, spent hours with Casey each day. It got to the point where I thought it may have been a wakeup call for him, that he would start prioritizing Casey more.
That lasted about a week.
Instead of stewing about it, I’m choosing to see it as a blessing. A little less drama in our lives, and more time for me with Casey.
The glass door slides open, revealing a breathless and dripping-wet Fletcher with Casey slung over his shoulder.
“Must have been quite the battle if you’re taking prisoners,” I say.
“It was a close call,” says Liam with a lift of his chin as he steps in after him, looking even worse for the wear.
Gracie pats him on the back comfortingly as she slips inside last and closes the door behind her. “Denial is normal.” She reaches for Rowan before he can respond. “Is it time to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s? Is it time?” she asks in a baby voice.
Rowan reaches right back and eagerly wraps her arms around Gracie’s neck.
My heart melts at the sight, but it’s bittersweet, in a way. Seeing the entire village Rowan has in a way Casey never did at that age. But I suppose it’s better late than never. He certainly has a village now. With our friends, but also, Fletcher’s parents have been such a big part of that.
Casey’s never had a grandparent presence in his life—Julian’s parents are both dead, and mine might as well be. But Dave and Jodie have embraced Casey in a way I didn’t even know to hope for.
And me too. They’re the type of kind I thought didn’t exist outside of movies.
I actually think it scares Fletcher a bit, how well Jodie and I get along. We’ve already been talking about bringing her in to help on some outdoor parties CC Events has coming up. She’s also been working me down for months about talking Fletcher into finding a venue of my own—just a fixer-upper around town that we could all pitch in to flip, that way we’d have a consistent space to use during the busy seasons, and we could rent it out the rest of the year for another source of income.
Admittedly, the idea of taking a tiny piece out of Julian’s monopoly on commercial real estate around here brings me a small thrill.
Fletch, Casey, and I stand on the front porch and wave them off as their brake lights disappear down the snowy streets. And it takes all of twenty minutes until Casey can’t keep his eyes open anymore and Fletcher carries him up to bed. Then suddenly the house that was so full of warmth and laughter is utterly and completely quiet.
The virtual fireplace flickers on the TV. That paired with the Christmas tree beside it give the room perfect mood lighting. I settle myself on the couch and snuggle beneath a blanket as Fletcher’s footsteps descend the stairs. He leaps over the back of the couch, eagerly slides in next to me, and throws an arm around my shoulders.
“Promise we’ll have a real one of these in the new house,” he murmurs.
I smile and lean my head against his chest. We closed on the new place just after Thanksgiving, but since Fletcher wants to do most of the work himself, it’ll be several more months before it’s move-in ready.
But as lengthy as the process is turning out to be, it’ll still be faster than the situation with Jacks. It’s a particularly complicated case with the jurisdictional questions and multiple offenses—she was arrested four months ago but could be waiting over a year until her actual trials. We found her the best lawyer money can buy, and despite Fletcher not being any more willing to speak with her than he was after the fire, I know he’s stayed up-to-date on the proceedings.
We don’t talk about it much. I think sometimes he needs to pretend it isn’t happening. But every once in a while, he’ll offer up a detail he heard from the lawyer that day.
He thinks they’ll be able to try her as a juvenile for the first trial since she was under ten.
They’re going to do a mental health evaluation.
He wants to file a motion to suppress her confession.
“ So , Rowan’s giving you baby fever, huh?”
“I—what?” I blink back to the room, and my face burns as his words sink in. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off her all night. But he was so busy with Casey he shouldn’t have noticed.
“Well, she was giving it to me,” he says lightly.
My head whips around. When I do manage to speak, my voice comes out small. “Really?”
He keeps his gaze trained on the fire, but he’s smiling now. “I know we haven’t talked about it yet. And I’m not traditional about most things, but I am here. So I very much intend on marrying you first. And letting us get settled in the new house. But after that…I guess I just wondered what you thought about it. I know your business is really taking off now too, so I don’t want to derail that. But if you do…want to, I mean…” Finally, he looks over at me, and there’s so much unease in his expression, uncertainty, like maybe this is something he’s been wanting to talk about for a while. “Well, I could take as much time off as we need. So I don’t want you to worry about that side of things.”
Tears build in my eyes. I always thought I wanted more than one, but then after having Casey with Julian…that changed. I had to do everything on my own, even when he was right beside me, and I never wanted to experience that again.
But now…
“We might not have that much time,” I murmur. “Chances for complications will start going up for me in just a few years.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t want to rush it, and I wouldn’t ever want to do something unsafe for you. So we could see a doctor, go from there. I don’t care how it happens. If we adopt, foster—anything. But however we do it, is that something you’d?—?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His entire body deflates in relief with his exhale. “Really?”
I nod, the tears clouding my vision now, and I laugh .
He smiles, uncertain. “What?”
I shake my head, unsure how to put it into words. The last seven months with him have been an absolute whirlwind. Thinking about how different my life was a year ago makes my head spin. But everything feels so…certain. Right. It doesn’t even feel like we’ve been moving fast. It just feels like something inevitable finally clicked into place.
Six months ago, hearing someone talk like this, it would’ve had my heart racing, my fight or flight in overdrive. Promises, plans for the future. It would’ve felt too fragile, too slippery to hold on to. To count on.
Too scary to even try.
I don’t know what it is about Fletcher. I think he’s the first person in my life that when he says things…I believe him. And I don’t have to convince myself to. I just do.
“You just came out of nowhere,” I whisper. “And now I can’t imagine my life without you.”
He frames my face with his hands before pulling me close. “You won’t ever have to.”
He’ll leave , my mother’s voice echoes in my head. And you’ll be left with nothing.
Instead of shoving her in the corner as I’ve always done, I let myself imagine her fully. To picture the cruel curve of her poorly drawn lipstick, her overly tanned skin, her disapproving eyes. And I meet them head on.
He won’t , I say calmly. And if he does, you’re wrong. I won’t be left with nothing. I’ll be left with me. And she’s done a pretty damn good job of taking care of me so far, so I trust her to figure it out then too if it came down to it.
Then I turn away, and I let her go.
Not into the corner—not in my mind at all. She doesn’t get to stay anymore. I leave her in her lawn of dead grass behind some moron’s house who’s already drunk at one in the afternoon, and I don’t look back.
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