Epilogue #2
Lauren and Marcus still seem satisfied with their common-law arrangement as well.
They still refer to each other as husband and wife, and now I am an honorary husband too.
If there ever comes a day when polyamorous marriages become legal, we may revisit the topic, but that’s unlikely anytime within our lifetime.
The status quo is good enough for us anyway. We know our love is enough.
“Mum! Dad!” Brody hoots, popping his head out. “Grandad wants to take me, an’ Harrison, an’ Ryker to the arcade. Can we?”
Yeah, that’s right. Ryker’s in the boys’ BFF squad now. Still not entirely sure what changed there, but, uh, the three of them are pretty much inseparable these days.
Marcus’ brows pinch. “Grandad actually said he wanted to take you, or you conned him into it?”
Lorenzo steps behind Brody. “I told him I’d take him to go do whatever he wanted to do today for his birthday. He said he wanted to hang out with his friends. Do I particularly care to go to an arcade? No. But for my grandson, I’m willing to accommodate…”
Marcus snorts. “Funny, you’ll do it for him.”
His father gives him a withering glare. “I have made strides to be more accepting of you as well, have I not?”
I wouldn’t say that, in the months since that Christmas where everything came to light, Lorenzo has been the most accepting, but he has made an effort.
I still think he has a long way to go, and the two of them—Marcus and his father—have a lot of communication that still needs to happen, but they’re slowly making headway.
Kimber, Marcus’ mother, has been a hell of a lot more open-minded, and, for that, I’m truly astonished.
She reminds Lorenzo all the time of what he stands to lose if he cuts Marcus out of his life.
Lorenzo did thank me once, for being a part of Marcus’ life.
For providing his son with some guidance and stability that he felt Marcus needed, especially when it came to holding down a job.
We didn’t hug on it or anything, but I did see some earnest respect in his delivery.
Lorenzo Antonucci is definitely a hardened man, for sure, so that crack of vulnerability I saw in him that day meant a lot.
Marcus wobbles his head. “Yeah, I guess you have. Let me go in and grab my wallet, I’ll give the boys some spending cash…”
“Thanks, Dad!” Brody chirps.
Lorenzo holds up his hand. “It’s okay, Marcus.
I’ve got it covered.” Then, his gaze drops down to his son’s attire.
“Fleetwood Mac, huh? Good choice. Took Kimber to see them in concert once, you know. Bought myself a shirt just like that, actually. Not sure whatever happened to it. Knowing your mom, she probably threw it out when I never wore it after that concert, but how could I? The thing was signed by Stevie Nicks herself. I wasn’t about to wash it. ”
“Where was it autographed?” I ask him, and Lauren interprets for me.
“On the inside, underneath the tag.”
I smirk and flash my hands for Marcus. “You're wearing your dad’s old shirt, I think.”
“Seriously?!” he replies, twisting the neckline around so he can see it. Sure enough, he spies the faded signature. “Huh, what are the friggin’ odds! I mean, she must have signed thousands of shirts like this, right?”
Lorenzo narrows his eyes. “Yes, but let me see…” He steps over, and Marcus tugs the shirt off over his head, revealing his pierced nipples to his father, who simply shakes his head at the sight of them.
“You see right here?” Lorenzo points at an illegible part of the autograph. “It says ‘To Lo-’ Christ, this is my shirt! Did you steal this out of my closet, Marcus?”
He shakes his head. “It’s C’s shirt. I stole it from his closet.”
I sign. “I found it thrifting online.”
Lorenzo clutches the shirt to his chest after Lauren repeats my words to him. “May I have it back?” he asks me.
I smirk. “Only if you agree to bring us to a Fleetwood Mac reunion show sometime and get me another.”
At first, he looks confused but only until Marcus interprets what I’ve just said to him. He holds out his palm to me. “Deal. I’ll bring all three of you kids to a Fleetwood Mac show.” We shake on it.
Lauren apparently feels like being the bear who pokes the beehive. “You sure? You might be seen with the three of us, and we all like to make out together… like, a hell of a lot.”
Lorenzo scoffs. “I know you do, trust me. But yes, if it means I get to spend some quality time with you three, the package deal that you are, I am sure. I’ll have Kimber hunt down some tickets.” On that, he retreats back into the house.
Looks like I don’t have to forfeit a nut at all, I’m finally going to see Landslide be performed live. Holy shit. Who has two thumbs and is the luckiest man alive? This guy, right here.
“Welp, I probably ought to go remind the boys to behave for Lorenzo before they head out,” Lauren says.
Just then, when she goes to stand, she squishes my guys hard against the seat of the chair.
I nearly double over in pain, and, in my periphery, I see Marcus wincing as if he just felt that in his soul as well.
It appears—after all and once again—my balls have fallen victim to Lauren, quite by accident.
“Oh, Caleb!” she blurts, gasping and covering her mouth. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
With one hand cupping my nuts, trying to massage some feeling back into them besides the numbing pain, I sign to her with my free hand, “I’m okay.”
“Ugh! How do I keep doing this?!” she cries out, frustrated with herself. “This is just like one of our first dates!” She kneels down in front of me, scooping me forward and into her arms.
It’s not just like our Fourth of July date, however. That time, she ran from me, thinking she’d fucked up so badly that she ruined our entire night. This time, she’s not running anywhere.
“Yikes,” Marcus offers, rather unhelpfully. “Good thing we already talked about not wanting anymore kids…”
I roll my eyes at him before kissing Lauren on the cheek. “I-M F-I-N-E,” I write the letters on her back.
She pulls back and peers up at me. “Are you sure? I can get you some ice or something. Will that help? I don’t have balls, so obviously I don’t kn—”
I cut off her nervous rambling with a pained grin, shaking my head, signing, “No. Ice will not help. Stop fretting, Lauren. I simply need a minute, okay? Just until the nausea settles.”
“I’m buying you a cup,” she teases, still sounding as if she’s chastising herself a bit.
“I can think of other ways to make them feel better.”
Marcus tuts. “Jesus, C. Is your mind always in the gutter?”
“Not always!” I quarrel.
“Mhm,” he hums, his tone laced with amusement. “Come on,” he adds, offering me his hand to help me stand. “We’ve got a whole graduation barbeque to get ready for tomorrow. We best take advantage of the house being nearly empty.”
“Perhaps that can wait a bit,” I offer instead. “There’s something I’d like to go do with just the two of you first. I need to get changed into a different outfit though.”
One of Lauren’s brows shoots up.
I hold up a finger and scurry off into our bedroom. When I come out, I’m dressed in full Richard Simmons attire: glittery tank top, too-short shorts, and a fluffy wig. “Who wants to go get a double-chocolate brownie sundae with me?”