Extended Epilogue #2
“You didn’t do anything, did’ya?” Brody coos to Ford. Yeah, I never thought I’d see the day Brody Tannen softened up enough to sweet-talk a baby, but he most definitely has.
Rix snorts ungracefully. “He caught the babysitter’s cat by the tail, managed to pull in close, and then hugged it so tight, he nearly squeezed it to death.”
Brody starts to laugh, but chokes it down, turning it into a cough when Rix glares daggers his way. Sophie tries to save him by asking, “Need me to stop by and check on the cat?”
“Not necessary,” Rix clips out to Sophie, eyes still shooting fire at Brody, who’s ducking into Ford’s cute little cheeks for cover. “He’s fine.” The implication that Ford and Brody are not is heavy in her tone.
“Dinner’s ready,” I say, saving them all, as Katelyn and Willow arrive.
Everyone sits around the table.
Mark at the head with Katelyn and Johnny on his right.
Luke and Shayanne, with Leo between them, and Riley in a high-chair beside Shayanne.
James and Sophie, with Cindy Lou and Maisie between them.
Brody and Rix, plus Ford’s high chair, where he’s banging his fists, demanding dinner.
Brutal and Cooper, with an open spot for Allyson.
Bobby and Willow, with daddy’s girl, Aspen, sitting by Bobby’s side.
And my chair at the other end of the table.
We’ve gotten full around this table, expanded it as we needed to and had a lot of good meals and great times here.
But tonight, I’ve got plans.
“Everyone set? Casserole’s there, salad’s there, and pie is on the counter. Don’t wait up.”
I press a kiss to the babies’ heads, pretending to gobble a veggie straw from Ford’s chubby hand, which makes him laugh. But he eyes me accusingly a second later, apparently upset that I ‘ate’ the food he offered me.
“Bye, Mama!”
“Bye, Mama Louise!”
Another loud chorus, and I leave my family for the night, trusting that they are all safe, happy, and healthy. And well-fed, of course. I couldn’t stand to go otherwise.
I pull into the driveway of the little blue house and honk my horn. Toot-toot-toooooot!
Turning off the engine, I get out and walk around to the passenger side as the front door opens. “If you want dinner, you’d best get out here and help me carry it in. You, casserole. You, salad. You, tea. I’ll get the pie because I don’t trust a single one of ya!”
The guys do as they’re told - Hank grabs the casserole, Doc gets the salad, and Richard picks up the pitcher of tea carefully. He’s gotten a little shaky lately, but so far, we’re pretending we haven’t noticed it, while keeping a close watch. That’s what friends do.
We find our way into the house and I make myself at home in Hank’s kitchen.
Pulling plates from the cabinet, I set them on the table in the middle of the room.
The men grab for glasses, silverware, and napkins.
We’ve all done this dance enough Sundays in a row that it comes quick and easy to each of us, even though the room is barely big enough for one, much less four people, to move about.
We sit down, passing the food around and serving ourselves.
Hank takes a big whiff of the casserole. “Smells good, but I don’t trust ya. What’s in it?”
I quirk a wry brow at him. If he had his way, he’d eat nothing but meat and potatoes.
Truth be told, only time he eats anything else is when Ilene feeds him at the bar or on the Sundays it’s my turn to feed our ‘book club’.
“Meat, cheese, tomato sauce. It’s lasagna, with a kick.
” I turn to Doc, who has no qualms with tossing anything I bring into his belly, and stage-whisper, “The kick is the zucchini from my garden. Greens are good for you.”
Hank narrows his eyes at his plate. “Vegetables? That ain’t fried in butter?” He makes it sound like I’m trying to kill him. I might, if he doesn’t hush and eat his dinner.
“No pie unless you eat your dinner. Zucchini and salad both.”
Doc and Richard are digging in already, no need to coax them, and grudgingly, Hank eats too.
I notice that though his first bites are hesitant, he’s soon shoveling it in.
I’m glad to see it. He had a scare a few years back, but we don’t talk about that.
He’s been fit as a fiddle ever since, but I worry about him, especially since he’s been slowing down more lately.
That’s hard on a man’s pride and I don’t want him wallowing in self-pity over it.
So I side-step in to checking on him, careful with my words and tone. “How’s Olivia doing at the bar?”
He snorts, which makes it sound like she’s not doing all that well, but I know better. That girl is good as gold and a life-saver for Hank. “She’s fine. Taken on managing the bar well enough, I reckon. I tell you that her and Hannah are talking about having a baby?”
I shake my head, smiling. “No, you did not. Good for them. They’ll be good mommas. Olivia gonna keep working?” Slow and steady, Louise.
Hank isn’t fooled in the least. “Yes, so you can quit’cher worrying about me. I’m fine. Doing bar shifts when I want to, going fishing when I want, and watching a ball game when I feel like it. Instead of messing around in my business, we should be talking about Doc retiring.”
Eyes turn to Doc. He pats his now-full belly, unconcerned.
“Ain’t no need to talk about it because it ain’t happening.
Sophie does all the hard work now, running all over the county, while I sit back and let the critters come to me in the office.
No sense in retiring when I’m living on Easy Street.
Hardest thing I do is give that talk at the university once a year and I’ve got at least a few more of those in me. ”
Doc loves giving that talk, playing up the country doctor schtick and quizzing the new students so hard that they question if veterinary medicine is right for them.
But the ones who stay, they’re the ones that count.
Like Sophie. She’s good with animals, and with people, so she takes good care of Doc and their veterinary practice.
I turn my sights to Richard, who holds his hands up.
I measure their shake, but they’re steady as can be right now.
“Don’t aim your interest over here, Louise.
I’m doing fine, going to see my son and the grandkids next month after I finish this quarter’s checks.
” Richard is a business savant, or so he likes to call himself.
He owns several properties around Great Falls, both residential and commercial, and all he does is make sure his tenants aren’t having any problems and the checks clear.
It’s a pretty cushy job that lets him go visit his son as often as possible.
“Let’s talk about you instead. Give us the full run-down. ”
“Yeah,” Hank turns sharp blue eyes my way, his hand slapping down on the table to emphasize his point.
I brush my hair over my shoulder, knowing exactly what they want. Ornery as can be, I don’t give it to them. Instead, I casually say, “Oh, the garden’s doing quite well. Harvested three zucchinis today, in fact.” I look pointedly at the casserole in the middle of the table.
“Shut up about the garden, Louise, and tell us about those kids.” Hank’s grumpy game can top even my boys when he gets his feathers ruffled, so I guess that’s as much of a hard time as I can give these guys today.
“Fine,” I snap with a glare I don’t mean.
But I do delay long enough to eat a big bite of apple pie, chewing thoughtfully.
“They’re all good as can be. Bobby and Willow are home for a while again after the most recent tour.
He says he’s working on another album, so they’ll be here for a while.
Bobby slipped right back into working with Bruce and Cooper, though it’s funny as can be to listen to Cooper schooling Bobby on trees Bobby planted himself years ago.
Nature of being gone,” I say with a shrug.
Though they can all hear me just fine, I drop my voice to confide, “I’m hoping they’ll give me another grandbaby while they’re here.
I think everyone else’s little family is complete and Aspen’s old enough to be a big sister now. ”
“Your mouth to God’s ears,” Hank agrees.
I know he spends as much time with Aspen as I do, taking her on fishing trips and to get ice cream as often as possible.
He’s definitely the ‘cool uncle’ Willow told me he was for her with the next generation of their family.
“The world could use another tree, that’s for sure.
” His joke about Willow naming her daughter after a tree is long-running, apparently something he gave Carrie a hard time about too.
We all crack up at the joke, even though it’s not that funny. Hank’s laugh turns into a cough, and he waves off our worries, leaving me to laugh even harder. My eyes tear up, “Oh no, what do you think they’ll go with this time? Elm? Maple? Birch?”
“Magnolia wouldn’t be bad,” Doc suggests. He’s right, that’s probably our best hope. As long as this imaginary baby is a girl.
Eventually, we laugh ourselves out and push the plates off to the side to get down to business. “All right, fellas. I’m dealing.”
“You ain’t dealing nothing, Louise. My house, my rules, so I deal first,” Hank argues as he picks up the deck of cards.
He expertly shuffles and throws the cards around the table to each of us as we ante up for our first hand.
I peek at my two cards and knock on the table.
Doc and Richard eye me, but follow suit with knocks of their own.
Hank doesn’t play that way – conservative isn’t his style, he’s aggressive from the get-go – so he throws a quarter in.
“What’s with all this tip-toeing around? We here to play cards or what?”
I roll my eyes like the long-suffering woman I’m not and throw my quarter in begrudgingly. Or at least it seems like I’m unsure.
By the time the river is dealt, I’ve got a decent hand. My three kings with a jack-high would probably take the pot, but no sense is winning the battle to lose the war.
“Louise?” Richard prompts me.
“Fold.” I toss my cards into the muck since I don’t have to show them and let the guys make their wagers.
Hank pushes again and Richard folds too. When it’s Doc versus Hank, they showdown and Hank wins with a pair of tens. I would’ve thought he had higher, but he’s got a good bluff so you never know.
I let it go like that a few more hands – Hank taking another two and Richard winning one. I reel them in patiently.
By the fifth hand, I’m feeling good, and though my best hand is only a pair of eights, I bet big for our group, throwing in three dollars. Here little fishie…
I play that one through, losing the money but setting the tone.
The next hand, I win, pulling ten bucks from the pot. Then, six dollars.
I let the next one go, not wanting to be too obvious.
We play like that all evening - giving each other a hard time, catching up and chatting about everything and nothing, and eventually, we do even talk about the book we’re reading as a group.
This one was Hank’s choice, so it’s a classic Louis L’Amour western.
It’s a good one, but not my favorite genre.
Doc prefers science fiction, so he can dissect the science of it, and Richard likes suspenseful thrillers.
I like to make the guys read romance novels, because anything that can make old men blush like pubescent teenagers makes me giggle like a school girl myself.
But we occasionally throw in best sellers that we’ll all enjoy.
I figure we’ve all got plenty of time to read through a library’s worth of pages.
At least that’s what I’m hoping if we keep looking out for each other.
By the end of the night, we’ve all won a few hands and lost a few. I’m thirty bucks up, but more importantly, I’m three friends richer.
We say our good-byes, reminding Hank that it’s his turn to provide dinner next Sunday so he’d best get his order in with Ilene early, and then we head home. I let the guys take home the leftover casserole, salad, and pie, knowing that they’ll eat better tomorrow for it.
At home, I find that the kids left the kitchen light on. But the kitchen itself is spic and span, all cleaned up after family dinner. I go over to the sink to get a glass of water to take my vitamins and see a note on the counter.
Took dinner and pie to Allyson so she wouldn’t starve. Left you a slice in the fridge too. Hope book club was fun. - B
With a smile, I open the fridge. Bruce did leave me a slice – a tiny sliver that’s just right for a midnight snack. All my boys and girls are caretakers. We look after each other, help each other, and we’re a team as much as a family.
I’m a lucky woman.
I decide to take my tiny piece of pie outside to the porch, sitting in the moonlight where I can see the tree in the front yard.
“Hey John, you won’t believe what Ford did today. But first, you think you could do me a favor?”
I wait a heartbeat, giving him time to quirk his brows in my mind. I can almost hear him saying, “Woman, what are you up to now?”
“I think Aspen could use a little brother or sister, don’t you?”
The wind blows, the tree branches swaying in answer.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
And with that, I eat my slice of pie. In my head, I go over today, finding moments of joy and happiness to relive with John. He’s not here, not really, but he’s in my heart. Even after all these years. I think he’d be proud of the family men his boys have become and the way our family has grown.
I know I am.
I yawn once, and know that means the sun rise is going to come too soon, so I go inside and get ready for bed. I lay down on my side of the bed, on the far side, away from the door. I smile into the darkness one time – or at least I think I do, but I fall asleep so quickly, that I can’t be sure.
But I know there will be more smiles, more little ducks lined up behind me, more boot stomping, and more love . . . tomorrow.