Epilogue
Five years later…
“Daddy, I’m ascared to go. Mommy says she’s going to cry. I don’t want her to be sad.”
Jaheim looked down at his five-year-old daughter, Jasmine Beatrice Bloom Harrison, and suddenly school sounded unnecessary as hell. First day of kindergarten, second day of kindergarten, all of it. They could homeschool. He knew enough to figure it out.
But that wasn’t who he was, and it definitely wasn’t who he had married. Liana Bloom-Harrison didn’t back down from anything, and neither did he. They were raising Jasmine, also known as Jazzy, to understand that new things were unfamiliar things that hadn’t become familiar yet.
They barely had to do anything. Jasmine came into the world with big feelings, bigger opinions, and enough personality to run a small town. She was her mother’s child for sure.
He crouched down to her level. She had Liana’s freckles scattered across her nose and his dimple in her right cheek.
The lilac dress, white ruffle socks, and oversized bow tucked into her pigtails were what she had picked out herself.
He couldn’t believe he was a girl dad. But he was, and he announced that with pride every chance he got.
“Jazzy, baby. It’s okay to be nervous. And Mommy isn’t going to cry because she’s sad. She’s going to cry because it’s a big moment. You’re a big girl now. That’s worth some happy tears.”
Jasmine considered this, bouncing from foot to foot, holding her bookbag with both hands.
“Like when I cried when we got Ghost?”
“Exactly like when we got Ghost.”
“Okay. You didn’t say you liked my hair. Mommy did my hair like a big girl today. I only have two pigtails. Instead of six.”
“My apologies. You look pretty, baby girl. See, Mommy is trying.”
“Essie can comfort her, yeah?”
“Yep. Look, today is going to be a big day. If you have a good day, I’ll take you for slushies and pizza after school.”
“Deal,” she said, extending her hand.
They did their handshake. Handshake, pinky promise, kiss to seal it.
“Okay, we have to go,” Liana said, rushing around the corner holding it together by a thread.
“See, Daddy. That doesn’t look like happy tears.”
“I’m not crying,” Liana said.
“Y’all killing me today,” Jaheim added.
“Mommy, your eyes are leaking.” Jasmine tilted her head with genuine concern. “I can go tomorrow if you want me to stay with you.”
Liana pressed her lips together hard.
Jaheim looked at the ceiling.
Esme and Ghost came in from the hallway. Esme, older now, slower, went directly to Jasmine and put her head in her lap. She had been doing it since the day Jasmine came home from the hospital. Ghost came barreling in after her, jumping, tail going in every direction.
“Ghost, no. We are a Black family, no kissing.”
Jaheim and Liana made eye contact and fought hard not to laugh. Noeva’s influence was written all over that child.
“I can stay today. Esme’s sad too,” Jasmine announced, making her case. “Look.”
“Esme is fine,” Liana said, voice slightly unsteady. “Everybody is fine. Let’s go. It’s your day, Princess. And Mama is strong.”
Jaheim watched his wife pull herself together and thought about the twelve-year-old boy he used to be in Alabama. A boy with nothing and no one.
He had spent the next nineteen years building a life piece by piece in every city he passed through until Beau called and told him to come to Bloomington. He was glad he had listened.
They made it to Bloomington Elementary School. Jasmine made the drive pass talking a mile a minute about everything she wanted for Christmas, which was not even close.
“Ready, Daddy,” she said, hopping out and grabbing both their hands.
The drop-off line moved at a snail's pace. Jasmine was between them, swinging herself every few steps, the earlier nerves converted entirely into energy somewhere between the house and the entrance.
When they made it to the door, her teacher, Miss Lewis, crouched down with a kind smile that made the children feel safe. Jasmine looked at her and then looked back at her parents and made a decision in about two seconds.
She took off.
No goodbye, no ceremony, Jasmine Bloom Harrison running full speed toward her new beginning.
Liana made a sound.
“She didn’t even—” She stopped. Pressed her hand to her mouth.
Then Jasmine came running back, threw her arms around Liana’s legs first, squeezed hard, then launched herself at Jaheim who caught her and held her up.
“I love you, Daddy. I love you, Mommy. Don’t be ascared. Look, Tristen is here.”
She wiggled down and took off again. This time she didn’t look back.
Jaheim put his arm around Liana as they stood there watching the door close behind their daughter.
Liana barely spoke on the walk back to the car.
He opened her door, she got in, and stared straight ahead.
He got in on his side. “You good?”
“Fine.”
He pulled out of the lot. He was feeling some way himself, but he was working through it. He understood, and he was going to do what he always did: make space for her to get there.
A long stretch of silence passed before she finally spoke.
“She didn’t even look back.”
“Wonder who she gets that shit from?”
“That’s not the point, Jaheim,” she snapped, looking back out the window.
He kept his eyes on the road and let her have it because he had been married to this woman for four years. He knew the difference between the feelings she could name and the ones still finding their voice.
They made it to Something for Eunice, and she bolted out of the car. He didn’t rush after her. Just laughed to himself and wandered in. He greeted the staff before taking the stairs up to her office. By the time he made it up, she’d be ready. He knew her like the back of his hand.
He hit the top step and saw her plop down in her chair, staring out the window.
“What is it, Trini?”
“I thought she’d—” Liana stopped. Looked back at him. “Never mind.”
“Say it.”
“I thought it would feel different. She’s our only one, and she ran off like she didn’t know or give a damn about us.” She turned to face him with an expression he recognized. “Does it not bother you that we only have one?”
He leaned against her desk.
“Nothing has bothered me since you came into my life.”
“Seriously, Jaheim. Soon she’ll be in high school and hate our guts.”
“Liana Bloom-Harrison.”
“What?”
“Are you telling me you want another baby?”
“I’m asking if it bothers you that we only have one. Because I know we’ve been raising Jasmine and growing the foundation?—”
“That’s the same question said sideways, baby. Why are you acting nervous with me?” he asked, tossing his hands up. “Both my girls have been on one today. She wasn’t going to go school today because she didn’t want you sad. She’s not going to hate our guts.”
“We should go back and check on her.”
“No, we are not. Baby, we raised Jasmine to be exactly this way.”
She looked back out of the window. “I miss her already. I miss her as my baby.”
He pulled her up from her chair and brought her hands to his lips.
“I’ve been wanting another one,” he said against her knuckles. “I didn’t want to push you. Your body, your timeline. I was waiting on you.”
“You’ve been waiting,” she asked, eyes wide and soft. “For how long?”
“Since Jasmine started walking around here like she owned the loft.”
“So you’ve been sitting on this.”
“Patiently. Respectfully. Husband of the year behavior if I’m being honest.”
She laughed despite herself.
“You are so?—”
“Fine? Thoughtful? Consistently excellent?”
“Annoying.”
“Same thing.” He squeezed her hand. “You want to start trying or go home and practice first.”
She sighed and shifted. Once she met his eyes, pieces fell into place one by one.
Her silence all morning. The mood. Jazzy being extra whiny lately.
Then he thought about a week ago when she got sick and blamed it on food poisoning.
He didn’t question it then. He should’ve known when she cried in the laundry room because they’d run out of her favorite detergent.
She’d cried over that same detergent when she was pregnant with Jasmine. It was the smell of Gain that did it for her. He bet he’d find some in her purse if he looked.
He reached over and tilted her chin up.
“Trini. You got something to tell me?”
Her eyes expanded for a second before she sighed and reached into her desk drawer. She set a pregnancy test face up between them.
Two lines.
He stared at it. Looked up at her. Looked back at it.
“I was scared to tell you. I took it this morning before we left. Then Jasmine was scared and you were being perfect and I—” She exhaled. “I’m scared, but I’m happy. Are you su?—”
He kissed her before she could finish rambling. Pulled her in and held her. She cried into his arms, and he held her closely before pulling back.
This woman.
“I love you, Liana Bloom-Harrison.” He grinned. “And yes. I’m happy as fuck. I’ll be here just like the last time.”
“I love you too.” She stepped back and picked up her iPad. “Baby, what if…”
“Shh, what if nothing. It’s going to be fine. We not speaking nothing but positivity around him.”
“Him?”
“Him. I need some damn testosterone in the crib, baby.”
“Oh really? Your girls too much for you now?”
“Never. I’m happy no matter what it is. Harrison party of six.”
“Now you gotta go. I have blessing bags to sign off on, and you’re talking foolish.”
He laughed, kissed her forehead, and headed for the door.
Something for Eunice was Liana’s idea, built on the foundation of what he had been doing quietly for years.
She took it, made it real, made it visible, made it hers.
Two buildings, several houses throughout the state.
Safe places for women who needed somewhere soft to land and someone who believed they deserved to have that and more.
In a way, Liana was thankful for what Odeal had done.
There would be no this, no them, no growing family had he not decided his vows were optional.
She wouldn't have come home. Wouldn’t have walked back into The Bloom.
Wouldn’t have been behind that bar the night a man with a canceled date and a dimple sat down at the end and stayed.
Last she heard, Odeal had checked himself into a facility upstate. No sleep had been lost over it.
They had both spent years learning that love wasn’t supposed to hollow you out. Liana learned it the hard way, in a hallway in Coupeville with a lamp in her hand. Jaheim learned it at twelve years old watching love become the most dangerous thing in a room.
They carried those lessons into each other and built something softer, safer, and stronger than either of them thought they deserved.
Liana was still running The Bloom, but Roya and Tati handled most of it now.
Being present for her family mattered more to her than anything else now.
She wasn’t going to mismanage what she had prayed for.
Jaheim had made wide open space for her to decide what she wanted and followed without hesitation.
That was what she had fallen in love with.
He was still a boss, but she was the biggest boss.
It took loss, healing, forgiveness, community, and love to get them here. But looking around at the life they built together, it was obvious.
Some things really did bloom in their own time.
The End!