Epilogue
Steve
The kitchen was still too warm, but the smells were as heavenly as ever.
Now, after ten years of married life, I was more than happy to be Jasmine’s sous chef as she ordered everyone around the enormous kitchen in the ridiculously large villa the kids had rented out to celebrate Christmas as one family.
There were more kids, more noise, more gray hairs…for Jasmine and me, but also for our kids. Well, Cam and Carter rocked some silver in their sideburns and at their temples. The ladies…I’d never know if Jasmine hadn’t told me that none of them dyed their hair.
All in all, we were a good-looking bunch, even if I had to say so myself. Which I did, often. Because damn! We were a good-looking bunch!
“I can’t believe he’s going off to college,” Kate moaned from the long counter bar.
She swung her seat back and forth, back and forth, clearly antsy at the thought of Ike moving away.
Not that it was far; he planned to attend UT Austin and get a degree in engineering, but it would take them all some time to get used to Ike’s new life phase.
Regan set a cocktail in front of her—I didn’t know what it was or what was in it; I didn’t touch the stuff once I turned sixty a few months ago. My life was too good to mess it up with a heart attack.
Jasmine agreed with the sentiment, which was why she’d changed to a whole food based diet. The first few months were bumpy going because there were some recipes that were hard to adapt.
But with the stubbornness that I loved even when it caused me to throw up my hands in frustration, Jasmine persevered with her decision.
It took the entire first year of our marriage to rework her recipes.
At the end, we’d both been happy because the efforts were healthier but just as tasty.
She still baked her amazing pies, which I had developed an even greater soft spot for once they were always available—and I meant always.
The kids expected pies for all occasions, whether it was something to celebrate, grow about, harangue, or just to converse. There was never a reason not to enjoy pie, as I readily discovered.
Still, even with her out-of-this-world apple pie, she’d found some combination of vegan butter and olive oil to replace her beloved sticks of butter. She’d written down the measurements, and it was a science.
Sure, it took some trial and error to get her to cut out the fried chicken and sweet tea, but the woman looked great—all sleek and supple.
Next May, she’d turn sixty-five, something she’d dreaded.
But age hadn’t seemed to touch her, and she glowed with health and happiness… thanks, in small part, to me.
I stole a kiss while Kate, Aya, Regan, and Jenna huddled together, sighing over how big Ike had gotten and why couldn’t he stay closer to home (than the thirty-five minute drive) and all the kids were growing too fast.
That was true. Levi was a gangly pre-teen, all elbows and long legs and too-big feet.
He’d inherited Nash’s singing talent and Aya’s sharp mind…
and already broke lots of middle school hearts and irked his teachers to no end.
His smile was heartbreaking and his eyes filled with mischief, but he had a soft spot for his little sister and all his cousins, turning fiercely protective if he thought any of them were being treated unfairly.
Nash and Aya had their hands full with that kid.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jasmine murmured against my lips.
“That we ditch the kids and take a nap?” I waggled my eyebrows.
Her smile still bloomed across her face. “Speak for yourself, old man. I can go all day.”
Slipping my hands down so that they sat at the top swell of her delectable ass, I said, “I know all about your performance in the kitchen.” I nuzzled against her ear before nipping the tender lobe. “But I was talking about bedroom activities. You always sleep so sweet after I—”
She kissed me hard to shut me up, as I’d hoped she would.
“Gross! Gramma and Pops are kissing again.” This was from Lyric, Kate’s daughter, who was the most dramatic of the bunch.
She was cute and lively and lots of fun, but the girl was a performer. So far, she’d taken to musical theater, more interested in dancing and acting her way through a song than standing in front of a microphone.
She’d informed us all that we needed to be available in May for her debut as the lead in her high school play. We’d all solemnly marked the date in our calendars.
I heard a few chuckles and fake gags, but I didn’t lift my head or end the kiss. Jasmine’s lips were soft, supple…one of my favorite spots to savor.
“That’s enough, Pops,” Nash called. “You’re giving the kids ideas.”
Yes, Nash still called me Pops from time to time—relishing in the tongue-in-cheek moniker.
Thanks to him, all the kids had taken to the moniker with relish.
I loved how much they loved having a special name for me, and I showed them all how much they meant to me as often as possible.
Levi wanted to go fishing—I was there. Lyric wanted a trail ride—count me in.
Nash and Aya’s five-year-old daughter, Amaya, wanted Pops to drop her at kindergarten—done and done.
Sometimes I’d linger at the class doorway and watch her color, already missing the chubbiness of her little fists.
We’d taken Ike on a weeks-long tour of the East Coast to look at universities last summer, and I hoped to make that a tradition for the other kids.
With a long-suffering sigh, I disengaged from my lovely wife. Her dreamy expression had me dipping my head again, but Carter clapped my shoulder, forcing me to abort my plans to kiss Jasmine silly.
“Later, after we eat. The littles are languishing, and so am I.”
“That’s because you took that call instead of eating breakfast,” Regan called. She laughed at Carter’s wrinkled nose.
“I don’t like oatmeal,” he said.
“You’d have liked Steve’s baked oatmeal,” Jasmine said. “He makes it with apples, honey, cinnamon, and these toasted almonds. It’s basically a healthy dessert.” She licked her lips. “Yum!”
Carter’s expression soured, which caused Regan and the kids to howl with laughter. “You didn’t tell me you doctored it up with yumminess,” he accused his wife.
She raised her cocktail as she winked. “Your loss, sweet cheeks. Let’s not forget that you promised not to work on this vacation.” Regan raised her eyebrows.
Carter had told us that he and Regan had decided not to have kids.
Based on her childhood, I could understand their reasoning.
They’d braced themselves for our reaction, no doubt expecting us to try and talk them out of their decision, but as Jasmine pointed out, kids weren’t for everyone and Carter and Regan were the most fun auntie and uncle the rest of the kids could dream of having.
Carter grimaced. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll let my company burn to the ground—”
“As if it would, what with the people you’ve hired,” Cam said. He nudged his twin out of the way and peered over Jasmine’s shoulder into the huge sauté pan where she’d tossed in onions and mushrooms. “What’s that going to be, and will I like it?”
Jasmine shot him an exasperated look. “Have I ever made anything you didn’t like, Camden Grace?”
“No, Mama, but I gotta admit, I’m getting peckish myself.” He patted his stomach as he shot Aya a rueful glance, and she lifted her cocktail glass toward him in salute of his use of the Britishism.
“It’s still an hour or so till dinner,” Jasmine said.
Groans filled the air.
“Which is why I put together a charcuterie plate,” I said.
I walked to the fridge and pulled out an enormous platter laden with small cuts of meats, cheeses, olives, fresh fruit slices, and a few pates.
Carter had grabbed a handful before I walked it to the bar where the ladies were opening boxes of various types of crackers.
I stepped back as the kids, both the adult ones and the younger ones, descended on the tray.
“Like a pack of piranhas,” Jasmine said with an indulgent look.
“Guess we’ll push dinner back half an hour,” I said.
“Well, it won’t be ready for two, anyway.”
I laughed. “You’re sneaky.”
“We could finish it sooner if not for this extra step—”
“It’s going to be great, beautiful.”
“You’re right.” She rose on tiptoes and kissed me.
“Gross!” Amaya yelled, getting in on the entertainment. “They’re kissing again.”
The kids rolled their eyes and fussed at us for showing affection, but more than one of them had told Jasmine and me that they liked how much love we showed because it wasn’t the norm in their circle of friends.
In fact, most of those kids relished a trip to our place because they got to see a loving home.
“Got to show all the love, little bit,” Nash said to his daughter.
“After dinner,” Ike suggested. “I’m starving and three pieces of cheese aren’t going to fix that.”
“It was all that skiing,” his father, Rye, said. We broke apart so that we could take in the pride and joy on Rye’s face. Ike had some health problems, but he didn’t let those slow him down much, and Rye had learned to let Ike make his own decisions.
“Who’s on dish duty?” Kate asked. She glanced over at the big poster she’d made before turning with a younger sister’s glee toward Carter. “Great! It’s Carter and Regan.”
“You just want to put your feet up and drink Steve’s peppermint cocoa,” Jenna said, laughing.
“Darn tootin’ I do. Plus, it took Rye, the kids, and me two hours to clean up their mess last night.”
“It was worth it,” Rye said.
“Darn tootin’,” Ike said. “I’m hoping tonight’s even better, Gramma, because I plan to eat thirds.”
They laughed and nibbled and talked while Jasmine and I worked easily around each other, creating another sumptuous meal. I loved these moments, treasured each one, and I couldn’t help but smile when Cash’s little brother, Rhett, plowed into my back.
“We have to finish our game, Pops!” Rhett yelled with all the enthusiasm of a nine-year-old hopped on Christmas excitement.
Warmth settled around me as I bent and scooped up Cam’s second son.
Jasmine shot me a radiant smile as I tickled the wiggling, squirming boy, who was almost too big to fit in my arms. I inhaled as I held Rhett close, soaking in this moment, letting the pleasure of my family settle over me and into me.
I was home, well and truly, even in this exotic destination. The location didn’t matter. It was the depth of love I had for these people that created my sense of security and contentment.
I caught Nash’s eye. He smiled as he tipped his head toward the expansive living room. “Well? Are you going to play?”
“You know, I don’t think these screen-based versions are anywhere near as good as the real deal,” I said, setting Rhett on his feet. The boy was off faster than one of Jasmine’s prize horses.
She’d retired recently, and, starting next year, I’d have my beautiful bride to myself…between the grandkids’ visits and activities, anyway. So…not as often as I’d like, but I guess that kept the mystery alive and well.
“Yeah, well, we can’t scale a rock face,” Cam said with a shrug. As if he’d let his boys do something so crazily dangerous. “So it’s the next best thing.”
“The next best thing is being outside—” I began.
“We’ve heard it before, Dad,” Nash said with an exaggerated sigh.
As always, I thrilled to his use of the term. I never tired of it—never would. Ever since our wedding, when Nash gave me the greatest gift of strengthening our connection, I glowed at his willingness to accept me.
I loved him so much. I loved them all—would do anything for them all.
“I know you have,” I said, trying to keep my tone level. It never worked.
Jasmine shot me an understanding smile. She knew; her relationship with Cam was so strong now, but she’d worried over that bond for years.
I inhaled once, enjoying the closeness with my son, and then let him go. He would remain close, if not in location than in emotion—never more than a text or call away. “Let’s go show these young ones how to scale a fortress.”
“Be ready to sit at the table in an hour,” Jasmine called. “That means hands washed up.”
“She means two,” Carter said as he looked up from the virtual reality kit he’d fitted to the kids.
“She does,” I agreed. “But we’ll be ready in an hour.”
Carter chuckled. “Always giving Mama what she wants.”
“She deserves it,” I said with a shrug. Because it was that simple.
Carter sobered as he nodded. “She does. You’re good for her, Steve.”
I smiled, warmed by Carter’s comment, but still buzzing from Nash’s acceptance. This was the loudest, rowdiest happy living any man could ask for. And I was living it.
My ultimate dream. Damn if experiencing this much love didn’t thrill me.