Epilogue #2
“Like I said…” Franky walks around the table we rarely use and places his sister on top, tugging out a chair and sitting right in front of her.
Smitten, he merely grins and holds her hips while she pulls the glasses straight off his face.
“Your daddy’s a regular cussing baboon. You'd better stick with me if you wanna live up to your potential.”
“Argh!” Eliza skitters away from the counter, hissing at the cat whose claws slowly retract. “Dammit, Poopy! You’re a mean street hoe.”
“Don’t call her a hoe!” Rose snaps. “It’s not her fault.”
“She’s pregnant,” Fox drawls. “Like, a lot pregnant. With a lot of kittens.”
“So? You’re pregnant, too!”
“At least I know who the daddy is.”
Poopy darts forward and sends Fox squealing and scampering away.
“Watch it, hoe! I know you know we’re talking about you.” Fox turns and taps Poopy’s tail with the tips of her toes. “She knows she’s a S-L-U-T.”
“I’ve been able to spell four-letter words since I was four years old.” Franky glowers. “I know you know that.”
“Is lunch almost done?” Eliza glances around the kitchen. “I was told there’d be food.”
“Found out today that Poppy’s pregnant.” Alana inches closer and reads Rose’s sketchbook. “Kinda terrified to tell Ollie. Doctor Pratlin says it’ll be fine. July twenty-fifth.”
Rose turns the page and snickers. “Told Ollie about Poppy. He wasn’t mad, but he gave us both the ‘I’m disappointed’ eyes.
Because she was supposed to be desexed, but I kept putting it off.
He suggests names PooPoo, Podunk, Pile, Scat, and Feculence.
I said no. Doctor Pratlin approves. July twenty-seventh. ”
“This is seriously the cutest time capsule ever.” Alana turns a few more pages, since not every page has writing on them.
Some are just sketches. Some are patterns.
Some are the swirls and geometric designs of a woman working through a busy brain.
“My period is a few days late! Panicked! Ollie could tell I was freaking out even when I didn’t say anything, so he talked me off the ledge and totally didn’t overreact.
Brought pee tests home from the hospital.
Negative. Thank God! I want babies with him someday.
Soon. But not right now. Ollie approves. August thirteenth.”
Rose melts into my side, impossibly relaxed, her breath turning to a purr as I bring my hand up and massage the back of her neck. “I like the idea of dealing with Poppy’s pregnancy first. See how we handle that kind of pressure.”
“Sure,” Eliza snorts. “Because all that other crap you’ve already gotten through is nothing compared to a fat cat with sharp claws and a bad attitude.”
“Cute,” Rose quips. “Did you just describe yourself?”
“Oh! Burn!” Tommy crosses the room, ruffling Eliza’s hair as he passes. “Valera’s finding her lady balls.”
“Did you know Valera means valiant?” Franky announces proudly. “And William is a name that represents protection. A strong-willed warrior.”
“Really?” Rose peeks across at the boy. “Did you just did-you-know me something I didn’t know?”
He shrugs, his lips curling smugly on the side. “Guess one of us is smarter than the other. I’m glad we know now.”
“August twenty-ninth. Ollie’s starting to act weird.
” Alana’s voice changes, from sweet nostalgia to something a little more intense.
“One half of my brain is screaming that he doesn’t love me anymore.
The other, more healed half says he’s allowed to act however he wants.
Humans sometimes have bad days. That’s okay.
Plus, even if he doesn’t love me, he respects me enough to communicate it in a healthy, considerate way.
Hoping for the best. Bracing for devastation.
Probably gonna burn this page later. Today sucks. ”
“Doctor Pratlin says it’s a trauma thing, where I assume fault lies with me, even when it doesn’t. As a result, I emotionally dysregulate and overreact.” Rose slides her hand into my back pocket and presses closer to my side. “Read on.” She gestures to the book. “A couple more pages.”
“September fourth. I walked in on Ollie hiding something in his sock drawer earlier. I didn’t want to ask what it was or why he looked so guilty, because I don’t want to sound controlling or weird.
He could tell I was worried, but he didn’t explain it anyway.
Probably means he’s getting ready to break up with me. I’m too hard to love.”
“Holy jumping to conclusions, Batman,” Fox laughs. “Geez.”
“September fifth. Poppy attacked Ollie’s leg and dug her claws in. I think she saw me crying about the sock drawer thing, and since he’s the only other human who lives here, she blames him for it. I should ask Franky about feline intelligence. I bet he knows a lot about cats.”
“She’s probably just mad she got pregnant by a deadbeat,” Franky declares. “So she’s taking it out on the only other man in the house.”
Tommy snorts.
“September eighth. Ollie still has claw marks in his leg. He’s still acting kinda off, but he can tell I’m upset and pretending not to be. He swears he loves me. He paid extra attention in bed—”
“Skip that page!” Rose lunges forward and flips the pages, a bright red blush burning her cheeks. “That one was private.”
Eliza folds at the hips and gags. Loud. Obnoxious. Sickly enough to almost sound real.
“September twelfth. Ollie asked me to marry him.” Alana gasps and swings bright blue eyes up to mine.
Then she hurriedly goes back to reading.
“He was hiding a ring in his sock drawer, and acting weird because he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want me to feel pressured.
He was afraid I would say yes because I felt like I had to, or I would say no because the idea of marriage is terrifying to me.
I cried when he asked. Happy cry. Then I said yes.
Then Ollie said no. It was like we were playing a strange game of Uno, ‘cos he hit me with the reverse card. He was freaking out. I started freaking out. We freaked out together, then we called Doctor Pratlin and freaked out for four hundred dollars an hour. We’re getting married.
Guess I’m not so hard to love after all.
” Alana’s eyes glitter with sweet emotion. “You’re getting married?”
“You’re getting married?!” Eliza crosses to the counter and flips to the next page, only to discover a drawing of herself in a powerful fight pose, her leg lifted high and her hands fisted to protect her face.
“September thirteenth. Gonna invite everyone over for lunch and tell them we’re getting married.
Might ask Eliza to be my maid of honor. Kinda love her, even when she’s an ass.
Really?” She grabs Rose’s face, her fingers carefully digging into her cheeks.
“I know that this is an announcement about you and my brother. But can we make it about me for a second?” Her eyes glisten with happiness.
With unshed tears. With a softness she so rarely gets to exhibit. “You’ll be my sister, too?”
“Sure. I can’t stop thinking about that time you stomped on Darcy’s face.” Rose brings her hand up and cups Eliza’s. “I know it probably speaks of a character flaw on my behalf, but you did that for me. That’s kind of amazing.”
“I mean…” She snickers, though the sound is weak and wet and emotional. “I am kind of amazing.”
“You know what’s actually amazing?” Franky sweeps Hazel off the table and plops her on his hip. “Valera—valiant and brave. Darling—dearly beloved. That’s a pretty cool mix when you really think about it.”
“I think so, too.” I press a kiss to the top of Rose’s head and inhale the scent of her shampoo all the way into my soul. “Pretty glad I never let you move to The Wallflower.”
A floor shaking boom thunders through the house, followed by the sound of something shattering.
Wide eyed, Billy spins. “Jeremy? Buddy! Where are y—”
“Sorrrrrrry!”
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