Epilogue
DAISY
Fifteen eleven-year-old boys make a lot of noise.
Add my entire family and a few close friends, plus a truckload of sugar and the mobile parkour course, and noise doesn’t begin to cover it.
But I love it, and I’m laughing as I escape inside, leaving Ollie’s birthday party behind me in the backyard of the barn house.
“It’s chaos out there,” I say, closing the heavy slider door and cutting off the shrieks and shouts. I sweep past the long dining table, loaded with half-eaten plates of food, and round the counter into the kitchen. “But he’s having a good time.”
“He’s having the best time,” Beau agrees distractedly before he straightens from the birthday cake. There’s dissatisfaction on his face and a green frosting-coated spatula in his hand. “I can’t get this right.”
I scan the three-tier cake that Beau insisted on making without any help. It’s tall and round, if a little lopsided, with three shades of green frosting to give the look of rolling hills. The black horse on top is Pony Noir.
“It looks great to me.” I scoop a little frosting from the spatula and lick it off my fingertip. “Ollie’s going to love it.”
“I want it to be perfect,” Beau mutters, bending over the dessert again. “I want this entire day to be perfect. Ollie’s never had a birthday party, so this one has to be an occasion he remembers.”
The deep groove between Beau’s brows alarms me, and I set a hand on his wrist before he tries to smooth away another line in the frosting. “This isn’t about the cake, is it?”
The look he gives me is guarded at first, but then his shoulders drop, and so do his defenses. He swipes a little frosting from the corner of my lip with his thumb, then sticks it in his mouth.
“I can’t stop thinking about the hearing,” he admits.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I smooth back his hair. “Talk to me.”
“It was too easy.” He leans back against the counter.
“And for the most part, I’m relieved. I’m beyond grateful that the process wasn’t drawn out and hostile for Ollie’s sake, but…
” Beau’s dark eyes become clouded with pain.
“How the hell is that little boy supposed to get over the fact that his mother didn’t fight for him?
Or that his grandparents didn’t care enough to challenge me?
We walked into that courthouse, just you, me, and Ollie, and we walked out again the exact same way. ”
I pry the spatula out of his fingers and set it aside, then take his hands in mine.
Ollie’s guardianship hearing happened less than a week ago, and it was exactly as Beau describes—easy.
That should be a good thing, but if I’ve learned anything trying to be a mother figure to Ollie these past six months and more, it’s that the life of a ten-year-old kid is usually more complicated than it seems.
“I know this is hard,” I tell him. “But this is the best outcome. We want to build a dependable home for Ollie, right? And you need full legal and physical guardianship to do that. Ollie needs that. And he wants to be here. He has a voice in this, too, and he spoke up when it mattered. Your nephew made it clear he wants to live with you.”
Beau’s mouth tips up a little as he toys with the daisy charms dangling from the bracelet on my wrist.
“With us,” he corrects, then adds, “I know you’re right. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about getting my wish at the expense of Ollie having a relationship with his mother. Or less pissed off that my family is so fucked up.”
“Has Ollie said something to make you worry?” I ask.
Beau shakes his head. “Not yet, but I learned my lesson last summer when he ran away instead of talking about his feelings. I want to be prepared for his questions this time. Lead the conversation and have the answers when I need them, not be scrambling after the fact to catch up.”
“This might be something the two of you need to talk about with Amy,” I suggest gently. “I want to support you and say all the right things, but the situation is complex. Working through it with a psychologist might help you and Ollie process your conflicting emotions.”
Beau nods thoughtfully. “We have an appointment early next week,” he says. “I was hoping you might come too?”
I tighten my fingers around his. “I’d be honored.”
Tension melts from his muscles, and he leans down to kiss me. It’s soft and fleeting, but still makes my stomach flip.
The back door opens again, letting in a wave of laughter and music as well as Duke Montgomery.
I’ve had hours to get used to the way he’s aged, but it’s been over a decade since I saw him last, and time has made its mark.
Duke is still sturdy and strong, if a little thicker in the middle and grayer where his hair pokes out from under his hat.
The lines on his face, deeper and more plentiful, speak of years spent laughing, and while it’s hard to know that the Montgomery family lived the last decade cocooned in happiness when my family did not, I know they deserve it, because Duke’s eyes haven’t changed. They’re as generous as I remember.
“I apologize,” he says when he sees me wrapped in Beau’s arms. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Beau assures him. “Can I get you anything?”
Duke chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m fine. Just wanted to thank you again for inviting my granddaughters to Ollie’s party. The girls are having a wonderful time out there.”
“I’m glad,” I tell him. “We’re so happy you could make it.”
“Me too. You should’ve seen the delight on Joy’s face when we drove onto the property this morning.
First time in nearly fifteen years!” He shakes his head with a heaving sigh.
“Sad, too, of course, realizing that the last time we were here, your parents were too. Doug and Jacqui were good people, Daisy. I loved and respected them very much, and it’s hard not to miss them on days like this. ”
I blink back the sting in my eyes and focus instead on the warmth in Duke’s words and the comfort of being near someone who knew my parents as well as he did.
“Thank you,” I say. “I miss them too. And it might be selfish of me to say so, but it’s part of the reason I hope we’ll see more of each other. I feel closer to them with you in the room.”
Duke’s smile is fatherly, and my throat tightens. “I’d like that a lot,” he says.
Beau’s arms tighten around me, and the older man hesitates, appraising us with shrewd eyes.
“I’m glad I found you alone,” he says. “I wanted to clear the air about the job last summer. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I sensed a little unease when we arrived, and I want to assure you there’s no need for it.”
It’s almost alarming to see Duke so serious, that’s how jovial he is by nature. I round the counter to pull out a stool for him to sit. He takes it while I hop onto the one beside him.
“You’re right,” Beau says. “I let you down, and I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” I add. I glance at Beau, and the last three years of our life seem to pass in just one look.
The heady first days. The devastating middle.
The hopeful new beginning that was hard won and not without fallout.
“It’s as much my fault as anyone’s, and the last thing we wanted to do was disappoint you. ”
This time, Duke’s sigh is a different kind of sad.
“Joy and I have five kids about your age, and we support them as best we know how through the hard days as well as the good,” he says.
“And I know I’m not a father to either one of you, so I hope you’ll forgive me if what I’m about to say steps over a line of propriety, but I’m proud of you.
You did a hard thing, but it was the right thing. ”
Beau and I exchange a look of surprise.
“But—”
“No buts.” Duke cuts off Beau’s protest with a lifted hand.
“I don’t know your father, Beau, and it’s been a long time since I shared a drink or a conversation with Doug Davenport, but I knew that man as well as I knew my own brother.
And I know how Doug felt about family. If he were here to give you kids advice, I wager it’d be the same as I’m about to give you now.
Family comes first. Always. It’s the rule I live by and the rule your dad lived by too.
” Duke looks at me earnestly. “No job is worth it if it means losing the people you love. Love—true love like the kind you two have here, the kind your parents had—is the answer every time.”
I swallow thickly. “Thank you, Duke.”
Beau clears his throat. “Yeah. Thank you.”
Duke nods gently. “You’re welcome. And if it makes you feel any better, Emberfield is doing just fine. It would’ve been wonderful to have you join us, young man, but you’re better off at Silver Leaf, and we’re happy for you.”
“I appreciate that,” Beau says. “Really. Thanks.”
“No need to thank me.” He hefts his bulk off the stool and stands with his hands on his hips. “Now, onto more important matters.” He tips his head at Beau’s handmade masterpiece. “Are we ready for the cake?”
“I don’t know,” I say, deferring to Beau. “Are we?”
Beau takes a deep breath as he considers his work, then releases it with a nod that feels like the endpoint on a pep talk.
“We’re ready,” he says, picking up the platter and balancing it carefully in two hands. “Let’s do it.”
BEAU
I breathe a sigh of relief as the last of Ollie’s party guests starts the engine of their SUV, then winds their way down the drive and out of sight. It’s taken work for Ollie to make friends at his new school, and a knot of worry unravels as I realize today is done and it went off without a hitch.
I squint toward the horizon and estimate another two hours until sunset. Enough time to wind the kid down before bed. I hope. He’s got to be at least as exhausted as I am.
As I step back inside the house, a swell of familiar sounds envelops me. Daisy’s brothers and sisters are still here, and as tired as I am, the lazy hours after big celebrations are my favorite part of being part of a real family.
I wander into the kitchen, where Finn and Dylan are clearing away the dirty plates and empty cups.