EPILOGUE
Atlas
June - Five Years Later
My son is a high school graduate.
It doesn't feel real. The little boy I watched come into this world leaves for college in a month.
Liam and Birdie are heading to the University of North Carolina, where he'll play basketball for the Tar Heels.
Last year, when college applications were sent out, Liam and Birdie firmly told us that their staying together was non-negotiable.
"You're preaching to the choir, baby," Wendy had told our son, and we watched the tension unwind from his and Birdie's shoulders.
Birdie is incredibly smart and wants to become a dentist, while Liam had shyly confessed that he has been interested in psychology ever since we started attending therapy.
That narrowed the school choices down to only those with good dentistry and psychology programs.
It just so happens that UNC has both, and they want Liam to play basketball for them. Another positive is that North Carolina is just an hour away, so we'll be able to attend many home games.
Once they both received the thick envelopes containing their acceptance letters, it was a done deal.
It still warms my heart when I remember how Liam had picked Birdie up and spun her in a circle, kissing her in celebration.
Trace had grumbled at that, since he's engaged to Bonnie, and my former bachelor-for-life best friend stepped in as a father-figure to Birdie. He's rather protective of both his ladies and is happier than a pig in shit to be wrapped around their fingers.
I remind him that he cannot threaten his godson, who's no doubt going to be his son-in-law one day.
It's funny how life works out.
Loud laughter followed by a big splash sounds behind me, and I turn to see Liam's friends launching themselves in the newly installed pool in our backyard—my latest surprise for my family.
While my parents have a pool, I wanted to do something special for my wife and kids last year, especially after officially taking over for my dad at Durant Auto, so we put in an inground pool... and a hot tub that Wendy and I use very frequently.
"Be careful!" I call out to them.
Liam's best friend Will, who's also UNC-bound, gives me a salute before he back flips into the pool. Rolling my eyes, I'm just happy that they're all enjoying Liam and Birdie's joint graduation party.
They've become like Wendy and I—a package deal, so when we asked Liam if he wanted a graduation party, he said yes but wanted it to be his and Birdie's.
Birdie seemed tentative around the pool at first, but Liam always understood what she needed. He keeps between her and the deep end, or lets her hold onto his back as he swims.
I suspect there's a story there, but that's for them to tell me if and when they're ready.
Noah would be here, but two days ago, we dropped him off at art camp for a month. It's our baby boy's first sleepaway camp. My Wendy had cried while dropping him off, despite Noah promising her that he would be fine, that he would make so many friends, and that he would have so much fun.
And from the phone calls we get from him, we'll be lucky if he wants to come home from the fun he's having.
I've modeled myself after my wife by making sure I understand what my kids are interested in.
When Noah talks about a new artist, I look him up and familiarize myself with their work. Or when Liam talks about basketball or a new video game, I do the same thing.
It's the bare minimum as a parent, but I was severely lacking in that regard before.
I've made it my mission these last five years to be the best parent I can be to my children, and it helps a lot that my wife truly is Super Mom.
If I stumble, she's there to catch me, and vice versa. When Wendy needs a break, I send her to relax and take over.
It's a balance, it's a partnership, and I think my wife and I have truly become stronger not only in our marriage but also as parents.
It also helps that we have a whole village willing to help us.
Silas is sitting on the deck with Dad, Trace, and Trey, all laughing and clinking their beer bottles together. Mom steps out the back door of the house, Molly and Jem trailing after her and chatting a mile a minute with Taylor and Bonnie.
But it's only when my wife steps outside that everything inside me truly settles. All the chaos fades as she centers me completely.
The bright afternoon sunlight catches her hair, turning it into a flame fluttering in the breeze. She's wearing a sweet little yellow sundress that's got my blood singing, and that I'm very much looking forward to peeling off of her later.
Absentmindedly, her hand rests on her bump, and I feel a primal pride. Seeing my mark on her, proof we're bound together, just gets me.
She's about four months along, almost halfway through, and our baby girl is due in October.
Wendy surprised me back in March. The boys went to their grandparents—Liam driving his new/old SUV I worked on—so we could have a night in.
We did this every once in a while, making time for our marriage and spending time together without the kids, so I didn't suspect anything until Wendy greeted me by the door with a big smile.
"Hi, beautiful," I said, dropping my bag so that I could sweep her up and kiss her. When I pulled back to study her, she seemed to glow, radiating happiness from within.
Then she reached into her pocket and produced a baggie with three pregnancy tests—all positive.
My heart stopped dead in my chest before kicking up again and slamming against my ribs. I glanced back and forth between her and the tests, hope welling up inside of me.
About two years ago, we had talked about having another baby.
My schedule was more balanced at the garage; Wendy was still working part-time; her body had fully healed from the accident; the boys were more self-sufficient; our cash flow was fantastic; and we had a spare bedroom that I know my wife wanted to turn into a nursery.
We didn't do anything to hinder a baby, but at Wendy's yearly OBGYN appointment, they said it's a little more difficult for women to conceive after thirty-five.
Watching some hope die in my wife's eyes after hearing that broke something inside of me. I know she wasn't unhappy, I know she loved the boys so much, but I also know that sometimes it really fucking sucks to realize your dreams have to remain dreams.
But sometimes, life just happens when you least expect it.
"Yeah?" I asked through a tight throat.
"Yeah," she laughed, her eyes shimmering with happy tears. "I'm pregnant."
Without another word, I promptly swept up my wife in my arms and brought her upstairs to our bedroom to celebrate.
A baby. A new little life.
Another precious little being that's half Wendy.
A month later, we found out it was a girl, and Wendy cried happy tears in the car, clutching onto me.
I was over the moon, but I knew Wendy had always wanted a little girl after being surrounded by boys for so long.
She would get her fix through Molly and Jem, but it wasn't the same as us having a baby girl of our own.
Now our family would be complete.
As I think about life now, I also think about where I could be if Wendy had not filed those papers and woken my ass up.
Alone. Miserable.
Drowning in my own thoughts and fear.
Seeing my kids only on the weekends.
Seeing Wendy fall in love with someone else.
The nightmares are less frequent these days, but that potential future appears in them sometimes.
Whenever those nightmare futures creep in, I wake with my wife in my arms and assure myself that it isn't real. I pull her closer when my fear is telling me to pull away. I fight panic with love and logic. I talk myself down, determined not to let my fear rule me ever again.
It's like a muscle you have to exercise, and I've made it incredibly strong over these last years.
God himself couldn't tear me away from my family now. He could try, and he would fail.
Smiling at that thought, I load the burgers and steaks on a platter and do a quick detour to the pool to direct the kids inside to eat.
Liam's sitting on the edge, feet dangling in the water.
He has his arm wrapped around Birdie, who clings tightly to his side.
Some kids float in the water, others stand by the shallow end, and a few sit on the edge, tossing an inflatable basketball back and forth.
His friends all seem to orbit around Liam, who is the glue holding them together.
When I get closer, I catch some words that I don't like.
"So, Mr. Durant's definitely hitting that every night, right?" Liam's little shithead blonde friend Mark says from next to Liam, leering at my wife with beady little eyes that I want to pluck out of his head.
His words boil my blood, and my hands tighten on the food in my hand, and I'm tempted to crack it over his skull.
He's eighteen, right? I won't go to jail for that—or maybe I could have a few words with his dad...
"Shit, I would be," he laughs, holding his hand out for Matty to high-five, who just rolls his eyes.
"Hey," Liam snaps, glaring at Mark over Birdie's head. "Watch it. That's my mom."
"And? Your mom's hot and your dad's lucky," Mark says, waving at Wendy, who smiles and waves back, always friendly. I make my presence known, clearing my throat. Mark jumps clear in the air and slowly turns to meet my eyes.
I smile ferally. "Food's ready. Go grab a plate."
All of them jump up; Liam helps Birdie stand and wraps her in a towel.
All the other kids follow suit, but when Mark tries to pass, I just keep smiling and slap my hand down on Mark's shoulder a little hard, to be friendly.
"Uh, hey, Mr. Durant," Mark stutters, trying to shrink away. "Er—the food smells great."
"Thanks, Mark," I say, before leaning closer to his ear. "You ever talk about my wife like that again, and I'll forget you're my son's friend, got it?"
He nods so hard it looks like he's trying to shake his head from his neck. "Yes, sir."
"Good," I say, clapping his shoulder once more. "Go."
I watch as he races into the house, stumbling a few times as he glances back at me. Well, at least we won't have to see him much, if ever, after this.
Liam's going to experience the freedom of adulthood soon, he's going to make new friends at school, and he's going to stumble and have to pick himself back up.
He's going to make mistakes, learn lessons, and make more mistakes.
And I will always be here to catch him when he falls, put him back on his feet, and encourage him to keep going.
I walk into the house, where the noise levels are reaching an all-time high: my son and his friends talking all at once, music playing from the living room speakers, adults yelling instructions over each other.
The chaos feels like a warm hug, and my mom rushes over to take the plate from me, thanking me for grilling.
As I stand back and survey it all, I hear a sweet voice from behind.
"Everything okay, honey?"
Turning to Wendy, who's walking over to me with her hand cradling her bump, I hold my arms out for her. She smiles and walks right into my embrace.
Wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close to me, I press a kiss to her temple as my other hand palms her belly, feeling my active baby girl kicking against my hand.
"Everything's perfect, baby," I murmur against her temple and press another kiss there. "Absolutely perfect."
◆◆◆
Iris Carolina Durant is born on October 13th.
A Friday the thirteenth, funny enough, but despite the date, everything with the delivery went incredibly smoothly.
This is our third rodeo for birth, but I still felt the panic well up inside of me when my wife woke me up, saying her water had broken. We had been planning for a C-section next week, but our little girl was making her appearance early.
My wife was completely calm and relaxed as she puttered around the kitchen getting Noah's breakfast together for him, while I was swirling around the house like a tornado, calling my mom to get her to come over and watch Noah, grabbing our half-packed hospital bags, the baby bag, the car seat, and the special baby blanket and outfit that Wendy crocheted.
Wendy had been watching me with a bemused smile and offered to help, but I shut that down. I hadn't even wanted her to get Noah's food together, but she said she needed something to do.
My mom had blustered into the house with an excited squeal, the whole family was looking forward to our new arrival, and had gotten an excited Noah loaded into her car while practically shoving us out the door to get to the hospital.
A couple of hours later, Iris arrives, all ten pounds of her showing off a healthy set of lungs.
I stayed up by Wendy's head, talking to her, telling her how much I love and how proud I am, and then when we heard the first crack of cries in the air, we both melted into tears.
"Here you go, Iris, here's mommy," the nurse says, carrying over our pink swaddled bundle.
When we talked about names, we knew we wanted to honor our sister-in-law with her middle name, but we wanted her first name to be special. Iris means rainbow, and after everything our family has worked through, she truly is the rainbow after the storm.
"Hi, sweet girl," Wendy coos, getting stitched up, but still all sunshine as the nurses help adjust her to allow skin-to-skin with Iris.
"I'm your Mama," Wendy's glimmering green eyes meet mine, and she beams, "And there's your Daddy, and he's the best Daddy in the world. You're a lucky little girl."
With that, I fall in love all over again.
"No, I'm the lucky one, baby," I say, leaning down to press a kiss to Wendy's lips and then my daughter's head.
My heart expands in my chest as I gaze at my two ladies, Wendy's finger tracing down Iris' small nose—Wendy's nose.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and sit in my gratitude.
To Wendy.
To my daughter.
To my sons.
To my brother.
To my parents.
And to myself, for finding the strength to get help.
I don't think about potentials anymore. I focus on the here and now.
Later, I'll FaceTime Liam and introduce him to his baby sister, and he'll come home on the weekend to meet her.
Later, my mom will bring Noah to the hospital so he can hold his little sister and fawn over her.
Later, Silas will come by to meet his niece, and he'll shed a few tears at her middle name, named after the woman who changed everything.
Later, I'll settle down in the hospital bed with Wendy, holding her as our daughter sleeps in her bassinet nearby.
But for now, I sit in the chaos with my wife and daughter, knowing that I am safe.
I am home.
Because that's wherever Wendy is.
THE END