EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Snow falls in big, fluffy chunks. It’s expected to continue for the rest of the day, adding to the snow still on the ground from the last storm. Shadow Bend Cabins is at capacity, with all the cabins and rooms in the main lodge occupied.
Sitting in our family loft, I read a book Leah gave me while looking out the long window overlooking the grounds.
A tarp covers the pool, but guests enjoy soaking in the hot tub, even during a snowstorm.
I can see the trio sitting in the steamy water while the clouds drop frozen precipitation over the deck.
The water supply runs under the deck in loops, so ice doesn’t build up on the deck, even on the coldest days.
The girls are scattered around. Amy is downstairs manning the front desk, Ginny is working in the laundry, and Bea and Paige are at their new sporting goods store a few miles up the highway in Sisters.
Leah is driving up from Eugene after working at the University for a few days. I expect her to arrive at any moment.
I’ve been monitoring the weather; the girls are all good drivers.
Since we live three-thousand feet above sea level, Leah and Paige traded their efficient hybrid and electric cars for smaller four-wheel-drive SUVs.
I’m not concerned. But with the storm kicking up and dropping more snow, I wonder if the roads will hold.
I still get nervous thinking of when they drive alone.
Standing and staring out the window, I take a moment to stretch after placing my book on the table between the two chairs in our massive loft bedroom.
I check the access road that curves down from the highways.
It’s been prepped and salted for the weather.
Amy tells me her crew is good at maintaining the grounds and roads, but it’s my first time wintering in the mountains.
Since we completed the circle in the middle of summer, we’ve adjusted to living together in our loft. Ginny managed the logistics of moving our stuff from Texas to Eugene. We sorted our belongings at Paige and Leah’s house while Amy worked alone with her summer staff at the lodge.
Bea decluttered her apartment and joined the four of us in a giant garage sale of all our belongings we didn’t need or treasure. Living together requires simplification, but we all agree it’s what we want for our family. After a few weeks apart, we officially moved into the loft with Amy.
Bea works remotely and hired me as a consultant to help start their new process.
Amy’s converted office space allows us to work side by side.
I assisted Amy in automating her reservations and POS systems for our resort.
Paige bought out the owners of the sporting goods shop in Sisters, and I helped her modernize the antiquated systems.
It was a busy end of summer, but we’d fallen into a routine by October when the weather turned colder.
Leah still spends some days at the University but is slowly moving from the academic realm to building her counseling service here in the mountains.
Bea promoted her second-in-command and then negotiated a part-time remote position for herself at her company.
She plans on shifting most of her time to helping Paige with her store.
I pull my phone out of my pocket to check Leah’s location when I spy her headlights coming down the twisty drive from the highway. Behind her is Bea’s SUV, which means the pair is also safely back. I turn and exit our loft sanctuary and hurry down the two flights of stairs.
“They’re back,” I tell Amy as I pass her at the reception desk.
I grin at her because every time I pass her at the desk, I remember the first time I saw her when I checked in for my weekend getaway in the summer.
I didn’t expect my life to change drastically, but we both are thrilled with the results.
“Who?” Amy asks, coming from behind the desk and joining me at the entrance.
“All three.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder as we exit into the icy weather. “Good timing, I guess.”
She grins as we hold hands and walk down the stairs.
The grounds crew has kept the stairs clear with regular deicing, and it is holding as we step onto the gravel and walk toward the parking lot.
Paige jumps out of Bea’s car and hurries toward us, wrapping us in a hug.
Her exuberance for our family is contagious, and I grin as she twists to walk back to help Bea and Amy.
The pair cautiously climbs out of their cars, ensuring their footing is secure before standing up.
They arch back, holding their swollen, round bellies as Paige grabs their bags for them.
Both are at the six-month mark, and their motherly glow ripens their rosy cheeks.
I wait for them to cross the gravel as the flakes fall around us, then offer them both arms to help them climb the steps.
“We’re not invalids.” Leah laughs.
“I know, but I just want to help in everything,” I say, stepping up with them.
“And we love you for that.” Bea grins and kisses my cheek when we’re back at the top by the reception desk.
Paige hovers behind me. “It’s gonna be a long, snowy night,” she says as we enter the reception area.
“I think we’re all prepared,” I say, glancing at Amy. “They expect the highway to stay open.”
“If it closes, we will keep the guests warm and fed until the storm passes and the roads open.” Amy nods.
“A little help?” Ginny says, rolling a laundry cart into the reception area. Her hand rubs her lower back as she waddles behind the front desk. “We’re going through towels like crazy. Why do people insist on soaking in the hot tub in the middle of a blizzard?”
Taking the laundry cart, I help her to sit in front of the fire. “We’ll cover the reception. I’m always here to help.” I kiss my third expectant mother on the cheek.” I’ll get these folded and put away.”
We didn’t expect the quickening that formed our unique family to bless us with three pregnancies, but that final night at the altar by the spring produced three strong, growing babies.
I worry about Leah because, at her age, she’s at a higher risk, but her doctor tracks her progress religiously and always reports she is “progressing normally.”
The three of them are excited for their babies to meet their half-siblings.
We’ve chosen not to discover their genders or have a reveal party.
Each of the mothers wants to find out when they deliver.
Spring will start in roughly three months, bringing a certain poetry of welcoming new lives into our loving family.
Sometimes, I receive strange looks when we walk through Sisters shopping together or enjoy a night out at a restaurant in town.
Our favorite spot is still Donna’s old lodge diner by the lake.
She is delighted to hear updates about the pregnancies, and when Ginny promised to name her baby Stacy, regardless of gender, she shed happy tears.
Everyone agrees she’ll be the honorary grandma for all three.
Amy, Paige, and I fold the towels while Ginny, Bea, and Leah rest by the fire in the lobby.
They have their legs resting on the coffee table between the couches, rubbing their round bellies, chatting, and giggling.
Amy glances at me, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready to talk about three infants and our single loft? We may need to move or find another house.”
“We don’t need to do that,” Paige interrupts with a kind grin. “I think we can just convert half of the second floor to be child rooms or make one a nursery when the time comes.”
“We’ll do it in stages,” I suggest. “The mommies all want the babies with them in the loft, at least for the first month. We’ll discuss how to adapt after that. I agree we need to keep it front of mind.”
“It’s getting closer and closer.” Amy smiles. “I’m not even pregnant; I’m nesting like an old hen.”
“These three kids will have the most caring moms and…” I squint. “We’re calling you two aunts, right? Why can’t you two be moms, too?”
“I’ve always wanted to be the crazy aunt,” Paige says, grinning with mischief. “Fill the tykes with sugar before sending them home with their parents.”
“You’ll be home with their parents,” I remind her.
We all laugh together. My life is full of love and laughter.
The five women who make up my loving harem have improved my life beyond my wildest dreams.
For the first half of my life, I was alone and unsatisfied.
Now, I’m ready to meet the challenges of my second half with the loves of my life as we start our family.
I haven’t stepped on a plane in six months and hope I’ll never have to again—unless we all fly to Tahiti.