EPILOGUE
CASSIA
Sudden movement woke me up, but within seconds, I was drifting off to sleep again. I knew from earlier, before I brought Ivy in to put her to bed, that the night was going to be a rousing success. From all the activity I could hear outside when I got into bed, I knew everyone else thought so too.
But now, it was time to move on, which meant that soon . . .
I hadn’t heard him come in, but I knew he was next to me when the blanket was tugged from under my shoulder and lifted to let cool air beneath it.
“Hey, handsome,” I said in a sleepy voice. “Did everything go okay after we left?”
“I lost a string during the encore, but it’s all good.”
“Easiest way to turn a six-string into a five-string is to play for two hours in front of an arena full of people, huh?”
“Exactly,” Memphis said as he pulled me closer so we could spoon and get some rest while we were on the road. “Listen to you, using the lingo like an old pro.”
“I’m not old, but I’m becoming quite the pro at this nomadic life, don’t you think?” I asked.
Memphis ran his hand over my distended belly before he said, “Are you ready to do this again?”
“Are we ever really ready?” I asked.
“Probably not, but this time, can you wait to have the baby until we get to a town with a decent hospital?”
“But you and your sister were wonderful during the delivery, and that highway patrolman was so nice when he got here to help,” I teased.
“Let’s not rehash the thing that gives me nightmares, okay, sweetheart?”
“Well, sweetheart, let me tell you something that’s going to give us both nightmares.”
“Oh, God. What did they do?”
“Your son has a bandage on his arm because he tried to zip himself into a duffel bag so he and your other son could scare the shit out of your daughter.”
Memphis sighed before he asked, “Did he need the bandage for something he did to himself or something she did to him?”
“Your daughter tried to catch him, but he was already screaming, so I got to him before she did.” It was my turn to sigh. “Your children are feral and should be studied by professionals–preferably with bulletproof glass between them and their subjects.”
“It would have to be fireproof and hold up to explosive blasts too.” We were quiet for a second before Memphis added, “They’d also need a ventilation system and a secondary barrier, in case they want to play with science.”
“It’s alarming the way you think.”
“I was like them back in the day.”
“Back in the day when? Yesterday?”
“Wild pissed me off! He deserved it!”
“I wonder who your children inherited their feral tendencies from.”
“I know it’s bad when you call them my kids instead of our kids.”
“Sadly, that happens all the time.”
“That’s the joy of being a Forrester.”
I felt the baby kick beneath Memphis’s hand and smiled when he kissed my bare shoulder. Yes, that was one of the joys of being a Forrester, but not the best one.
The very best one was being a Forrester’s wife and the mother of his children.
THE END