Epilogue
Oz
Three years later
My eleven-month-old son squirms in my arms. He’s fiercely independent like his mama, and he doesn’t take kindly to being restricted when he wants to roam free.
“Sorry, kiddo,” I say with a laugh. “I can’t let you run free through Main Street in the middle of a parade.”
I spot Colby maneuvering through the crowd with Petra at his heels. He’s holding two beers, and I gratefully accept the one he hands to me. The high school marching band marches past, playing their school song. My little boy claps with glee.
“Let me have a turn holding the rugrat,” Colby says, reaching for his nephew. I grin at him, thankful to have him back in my life. It didn’t take long to win back his friendship. Once he saw how protective I am of his sister, he knew my daredevil days were over. I hand him my squirming son and he lifts him onto his shoulders.
Petra leans toward me so I can hear her over the noise. “Is Marjorie nervous?” she yells.
“A little, but she’s been ready for this her whole life.”
Colby nods. “She’s going to be an amazing mayor.”
“The best,” I agree.
And when Marjorie passes by on the mayor’s float, waving to her new constituents, I’m filled with so much pride that I could burst.
“I love you, Jori!” I scream up to her. I doubt she can hear me over the crowd, but her brother does, and our son does. And somehow, that matters, too. We’re the three men in her life, standing as a united front to cheer her on.
And from atop her float, Mayor Marjorie Metzer, my beautiful wife, blows me a kiss.