Epilogue #4
“Morning, baby girl. What’s going on at Alani’s tonight?” I asked as I pressed a kiss to her head, my arm wrapped around her as she gave me that side hug that teenagers preferred.
“Nothing. Just hanging out.” The way Lou was avoiding eye contact as she said that had my hackles rising.
“Okay. Who else is gonna be there?” I asked, and Lou sighed.
“Dad! Why are you grilling me? It’s a school night. I’ll be home by dinner.”
“Honey, is Kai gonna be there? Just put him out of his misery,” Sophie finally said, shooting a look like I was the problem.
“He might be! Since Alani is his sister, and they live in the same house. Why is it okay for me to be friends with Alani, but not Kai? All Kai and I do is listen and write music together. Alani and I have gotten into way worse stuff.”
“Lou!”
“What stuff?” Sophie and I exclaimed at the same time.
“You guys are way too easy to trick. Besides the fact that I’m focused on my own journey right now, if anything were going on between me and Kai, I would tell you guys. Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, Lulu. It’s boys I don’t trust,” I told her, and Sophie’s elbow hit me in the ribs.
“And that’s my issue. I shouldn’t put it on you. Go ahead and have fun at Alani’s. Let me know if you need a ride home,” I told her.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, hopping up to give me a hug—the type of hug that wasn’t so frequent anymore because she was too old for it, too busy, too cool.
It reminded me of when she was little, and we were best friends.
I rested my cheek against her head and made sure I was in the moment.
Sooner than I cared to admit, she would be out of the house and off to college.
Arguments over breakfast weren’t going to be a regular thing. And I hated that.
“Wanna go to the batting cage this weekend?” I asked.
“Sure!” she replied, and I relaxed a bit.
There was a constant war inside of me, bouncing from love to panic at a rapid pace.
That I would say the wrong thing, or not show up to something, and cause irrevocable damage to my relationship with one of my kids.
I never wanted them to feel forgotten or left out, ignored or unseen.
We weren’t perfect. There were flights, tantrums, and breakdowns in communications all the time.
But at the end of the day, we all loved and respected each other.
Arguments turned into laughter, fights forgotten as the world kept moving.
“Lulu, can we come? Please!” Sloane chanted.
“Yeah, Lou, please! Can we?” Luca joined his brother, the two of them ganging up on her. They wrapped themselves around each of her legs like spider monkeys as they continued begging.
“Alright, alright! You guys can come, but there’s no fighting about who gets to go first, and I control the music,” Lou bartered with the boys, who were already nodding their heads like possessed bobble heads.
“Yay!” Luca scrambled to his feet, running to Sophie. Crashing into her legs, he arched back and yelled as if she hadn’t heard the entire conversation.
“Mom! We’re gonna hit Dad’s balls this weekend!” he exclaimed, and I choked on the sip of coffee I was drinking. Just as loudly, Lou started howling, holding her stomach as she laughed. Sophie was making a face I recognized—the one that meant she was trying not to laugh as well.
“I heard! You guys will have so much fun at the cages together,” she replied, smiling down at Luca’s toothy grin.
“Oh, shoot. Alright, team! You’ve got six minutes to get your shoes on and grab your bags, then we’re out the door.
Let’s go!” Sophie commanded like a drill sergeant.
The morning rush was a coordinated stream of chaos.
The boys ran in opposite directions. The likelihood of either coming back with a matching set of sneakers was not high.
“I’ll help them,” Lou replied, already dressed and ready. As she followed her brothers, I walked over to my wife. Looking into Sophie’s face, I always found myself wondering how I got so lucky. As years passed, my love for her had only grown. We had been through a lot together.
Changes, surprises, conflicts… We took them all in stride. Sophie was beautiful. It didn’t matter how she dressed or how much time passed. It was moments like that, barefaced in the morning, making sure each of our kids was ready for their day, when her beauty shone the most.
Our family, our kids, meant everything to me.
It wasn’t the most conventional arrangement, but I thought we were closer than most “traditional” families.
Our relationship with Walt hadn’t changed; we still saw him frequently if he wasn’t busy with my dad.
Those two got into all sorts of trouble now.
Not all families looked the same, and no family was perfect.
Everyone had their ups and downs, but it was what they decided to do and what road they ended up on that made the difference.
Right then, in the minivan my wife hated, with her seated in the passenger seat and Lou in the back seat playing referee between her brothers, I had never felt happier. This was what family was. Loud, messy, and chaotic. Perfect.