Epilogue One Year Later
MATEO
Iuse tongs to remove the cooked chicken breasts from the pan and add another swirl of oil.
"Toss those onions in there for me, would you, Punk?" I ask, gesturing to the diced onions in the bowl on the counter.
He does, then gives them a quick stir.
I get the heavy cream from the fridge. If you'd asked me twenty years ago if this was how I pictured my life, the answer would've been hell no.
But now? I couldn't imagine my life any other way.
Sammy fusses on my hip, and I bounce a bit. Thank God for babywearing, or I'd get nothing done. I spend my days with my baby girl. We work on the house, go for walks, and she supervises Hashing It Out with Hayes, occasionally making a guest appearance.
Sometimes we drop Cooper off at school or pick him up, but it depends on Jade's schedule. She quit her job with Martina right before Sammy was born, and now, when she's not in class herself, she teaches an art class to dementia patients at a local nursing home.
We were all a little concerned about that one, Jade included, but it's working out well.
It doesn't matter how often I tell her she doesn't have to work; she says she's a better mom as a working mom, and I'm smart enough to know not to argue. I've learned to pick my battles.
"Okay, kid, three things you did at school today. Go," I say, adding the cream to the pan.
"I signed up for the talent show," he says, holding up three fingers and putting one down. "I don't know what I'm gonna do yet, but I signed up. And, hmm."
I watch out the window as Topanga, now lime green, pulls into the driveway. The garage door opens with a groan. I need to fix that.
"Mom's home," I say. "Add the garage door to my list?"
"Are you ever going to finish this list?" he asks.
I shrug. "It keeps me busy."
Jade walks in from the garage. A vision as always. Sammy's hair started out blonde but has gotten darker with each passing month. We think she'll end up with Jade's dark hair, but she has a solid chance of getting my blue eyes. Time will tell.
I cock a brow at her. I can't imagine a time when I won't want her. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And she's mine.
She's really mine.
She plays with the ring in her lip, a soft smile tugging at the corners.
"Hey boys," she says. She ruffles Coop's hair as she walks by where he sits at the island and makes her way to me and Sammy.
"Hi, baby," she coos at Sammy. She leans in, giving me a quick kiss, and then takes the baby from the wrap. "Smells good in here. What's for dinner?"
"Dad said something about marrying you chicken?"
Jade and I share a look, but neither of us acknowledges the elephant. He's been calling me Dad more and more, but it's inconsistent. We want him to decide, not us.
"Marry me, chicken," I say. "It'll be ready in about ten minutes."
"Are you guys going to get married?" Coop asks.
I have the ring. It's been collecting dust for months. I've almost asked her a thousand times, but I don't think she wants to, and I'm okay with that as long as we're together. I don't need marriage. I need her. And this. Our life.
"Someday," Jade says. "But right now, I love us just the way we are."
Cooper nods. "Fine, but we're changing our names then. I printed the paperwork yesterday."
Jade creases her brow. "Changing our names?"
"Mateo Hayes, Sammy Hayes, Jade Bennett, Cooper Bennett."
"I wanna be a Hayes like Dad and Sammy," Coop says.
"Is that what this whole dad thing is about?" she asks.
"I printed that paperwork too."
Of course he did.
JADE
After dinner, we all pile into Mateo's SUV, or the dad mobile as he calls it. He takes the corny dad thing to a whole new level sometimes.
A project I did for school somehow evolved into much more. Tomorrow is opening night at the gallery, but tonight I share it with my family.
It's not just Coop and me anymore.
We're a unit of four. Well, sometimes.
Nights like tonight we're seven. We were eight for a little while, but then my mom did what she always does and fucked me over.
She stole from my home, a few designer purses Mateo insisted I needed, and since then I've cut her out of our lives.
For good. And honestly? My chosen family is far better than any family I could have dreamed of.
Charlie, Liam, and Addie are waiting for us when we arrive at the gallery.
Liam scoops Sammy out of my arms, and I open the door.
Karlie, the curator, greets us with a smile, and I introduce her to everyone.
When my professor first suggested this, I thought he was crazy, but then I met Karlie, and she sold me.
I face my family.
"When I was a little girl, my grandmother had a collage frame hung on her wall.
It was a series of drawings depicting the greatest events in a girl's life.
And I remember thinking that's what life was meant to look like.
Meet a man, get married, have kids. So imagine my surprise when that's not the direction my life went.
Not all the events you're going to see were great.
Some of them were the worst moments of my life, but they all led me here.
This exhibit is titled "Under Construction.
" I twirl my arm with a flourish and turn to let them through.
I take Sammy from Liam and sit on a bench in the middle of the gallery.
This is the part I both love and loathe.
Watching how other people perceive my work, and in this case, my life is terrifying.
Charlie and Liam start at the beginning, a portrait of a young girl, me.
Her back is to us, and she rests her fingertips on the edge of a frame on the wall.
The title of that piece is Expectations.
Addie zones in on the one of me in a birthday hat, tears streaming down my face. I was Coop's age. It was the birthday my dad left. I titled it The Last Birthday.
Coop finds the one of him, a crying baby on my chest.
The First Breath.
Mateo is nowhere to be seen, so our daughter and I set off to find him. We wander into an alcove, and I'm not surprised by the drawing that caught his attention.
"We can recreate this tonight," he says, not turning around.
"You always know it's me," I say.
"Brown sugar—"
"And cayenne, I know."
He holds up his arm, and I tuck myself and Sammy beneath it. I love how perfectly I fit here, how my head can rest just so on his chest.
In this portrait, I'm sitting on the counter, and Mateo has me caged in with his arms. The title?
No promises.
Mateo digs into his pocket and takes out his wallet, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He opens it with care, the creases worn, as if he's done this a hundred times and holds it beneath the portrait.
"Where…where did you get that?" I ask. It's the original sketch. The girl in the messy bun on the counter. "I thought I lost it."
He tilts his head, licking his lips. "It must have fallen out of your bag in the car, but I couldn't bring myself to give it back."
I brush the pads of my fingers over it, remembering the moment I saved it from the trash barrel. Only to lose it shortly after.
"And you kept it? All this time?"
He smiles, but doesn't answer me, folding it back up and returning it to his wallet.
"Do you want to know which one is my favorite?" he asks.
"Yes," I say.
He guides me to the faux wall in the middle of the room, and I know without looking which one it is.
The observer looks in from the outside. Beyond a windowpane covered in rain is us. The four of us. Mateo holding Sammy with Coop next to him, hands high in the air in the middle of a story, and me…I'm sitting on a stool with a smile on my face.
"There's no title," he says.
"Nothing felt like enough," I say. "It all felt wrong. And then I kept coming up with song lyrics, and I can't do that."
He shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips. "No, you can't." His blue eyes sparkle in the light of the gallery, but they're no longer on the drawing, they're on me. He takes Sammy from me, pulls me into him, kissing the top of my head. "I love you, Storm Cloud."
"I know," I say, and he pokes me in the side. "Rainstorm seems too simple, don't you think?" I ask.
"Waffles!" Addie yells from the corner.
Mateo and I laugh, and Sammy coos.
"You have reached your destination," Cooper says in a monotone voice.
Mateo and I lock gazes.
Even if we haven't?
End route.