Epilogue
EPILOGUE
VINCE
“ O ne for you… One for you…” Gail hands each of the girls a pumpkin of a size they can carry. Raven, who’s only been walking a few months, holds hers up like a trophy, staring at it in awe as she toddles after the others, to give it to Fred, so she can put them on the back of the truck.
“Watch where you’re going, Ravee,” I call after her, as Gail loads the wooden crate I’m holding with at least a dozen of the larger pumpkins.
“That ought to do it.” She looks around the pumpkin patch with her hands on her hips, and then moves further down the wide path, toward the potatoes. “That section of experimental carrots looks ready to harvest,” she says, gesturing vaguely as she walks by it.
I almost drop my armload of pumpkins and quickly set them down, so I don’t lose my balance.
“ Those carrots?” I wipe my brow and nod toward the small, decorated plot of special fairy wish-granting carrots the girls and I planted a few months ago. “Are you sure? ”
She turns to face me and arches her eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
I glance over my shoulder at Fred and the girls.
Morrissey has climbed onto the back of the truck, to raid the box of regular carrots. She hands one to Luna, who has her hand on Fred’s belly. Our fourth daughter will arrive in spring and has already made her presence known. Fred’s bump is rounding out nicely, and Luna’s almost always has her hand on there waiting, for a fetal high-five.
Raven reaches up and twinkles her fingers, demanding a rarrot too. Morrissey instructs her how to say please , and then goes back to hunt her down a tiny, little, sweet one, on Fred’s orders. They both watch her like hawks, in case she chokes on it, because she’s still figuring out how to use her first molars.
I cast my gaze over the productive land we’re farming more effectively now that I’m helping with the labor. There’s plenty to harvest and can or sell, all of it organic and grown with love. I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air, while I feel the sun on my shoulders, the dirt on my hands, and the peace and fullness in my heart.
I turn back to Gail. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
Gail nods. “Might be time to stop making Frederica trek back and forth across that field to the cottage, then. Winter’s on its way, and she’ll be waddling before long. Can’t imagine it’ll be pleasant, lugging your sizable spawn cross-country, with its head bouncing on her cervix.”
I swallow hard. “I was hoping our regular bakery chats and the impending cold would hurry your approval along. Thank you. I tried to make her stop, but she insists on doing it, claiming she needs the fresh air and exercise , so I couldn’t argue.”
Gail nods. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“We’ll keep the noise down,” I promise. “I actually added extra insulation during the renovations, specifically to help with noise-proofing for when we?—”
She raises her warning eyebrow and holds her hands over her ears. “Got any of that noise-canceling fluff left over, to jam in my earholes, so I don’t have to hear the end of that sentence?”
I laugh and pick up my pumpkins again. “Good talking to you, as always, Gail. I’ll ask her tonight, on her moonlit journey, and I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow if she says yes .”
I hold Fred’s delicate hand in mine and swing it between us as we walk. Then I spin her into my arms and carry her instead.
She rolls her eyes, and the moon is plenty bright enough for me to see it. “I can walk, Vince,” she says with a sigh.
“That’s true,” I say. “You can also let me hold two girls at once. You know I’ve got a thing for nesting dolls.”
She giggles. “You’re a lot sillier and more lighthearted than you were when I first met you, Vincent Monaghan.”
“I blame you.” I pull up her dress, jostle her higher, and blow a raspberry on her baby bump. “You unleashed the dorky dad inside me, and there was no going back. He threw away all the serious crime novels, got a ton of colorful, cozy mysteries, and traded his blending-in clothes for tiger T-shirts and rainbow-unicorn shorts.” I look down and snort. “My sweatpants are covered in cartoon bananas, and I’ve paired them with broccoli socks, darling. Nobody will ever think of me as intimidating now. I’m a new man — the man I was always meant to be — and we will never see the likes of that sad little investigator again.”
“I never would have called you little ,” Fred says with a grin. “And I think it’s wonderful that you embrace such bold fashion choices that inspire others to be themselves while also promoting the versatility of organic cottons. You’re a very creative and clever cookie, my love.” She strokes my beard and reties my man-bun for me, before she looks around and frowns. “Why are we out here, with the vegetables? I thought you were taking me to our cottage love-nest, to admire my growing belly and show me how turned on you get by plowing my fertile loins.”
I grunt at the thought and ignore my dick while it stretches out the banana fabric and gets pinned to my thigh inside the leg of my sweats.
“Well, because you make me so delightfully lighthearted and silly, I wanted to bring you out to the fairy carrots with me, so I can make a wish.”
I set her down on the path next to the fairy-carrot patch, and she pulls her woolen shawl around her shoulders against the chill. “Tonight?”
“Of course,” I say, as if any other night would be ridiculous. “I need to make a love wish. Everyone knows the fairy carrot will need to be harvested on clear night under an” — I glance at the sky — “autumnal waxing gibbous moon.”
Fred snorts back a laugh, clears her throat, straightens her face, and folds her arms over her chest. “You’re right. Everyone knows that to be true of fairy carrots, in regards to love wishes.”
“Exactly.” I bow to her, showing respect to my queen, and then crawl into the carrot patch on my hands and knees. “I mean, technically, it could be a full moon or waning gibbous, as long as it’s a clear night like tonight. It’s all about the moonlight and star sparkles. Fairies love that shit. You understand.”
“I do.” She climbs onto my back, as if I’m her horse. “As I’ve been told, there are specific times allocated to making all sorts of wishes. Morrissey informed me that, if you want a new bicycle for Christmas, you have to stand on one leg in the rain as you pull the carrot, while you recite an original poem about bikes in front of at least three people.”
“It’s true,” I say with authority. “Wishes always have to be made in front of company to provide enough power to transform the believing to receiving. And they must always be made with an adult present, to guard the integrity of the wishing patch and stop all the wishes being pulled at once. I sat in on such a wish being made just last week, so I expect it will come true in December.” I use the light of the moon to search for the carrot I want to pull. “There are other wishes, for which you need to harvest while there’s a rainbow — and on a double rainbow, you get to pull two wish carrots. There’s a whole system.”
“Gosh, I’m lucky to have such a knowledgeable mountain man around to educate me about all these wondrous opportunities springing forth from the soil,” she says, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice. “Giddy up, my love. It’s chilly out here. Much longer, and I’ll need to thaw my nips in your mouth out here in the garden.”
“Is that meant to be an incentive?” I ask, confused. “Because you know I’ll suck those pretty tits anywhere you tell me to, Angel.”
I gasp and clear some soil away from the top of the carrot I’ve been looking for, when I find the colored stone I left to mark it. “This is the one,” I say with certainty, as my heart starts to race.
“Are you ready to make your love wish, then?” She climbing off my back and squats next to me.
I nod and dust off my hands. “I am. It’s my wish, so I choose the carrot, but because this is a love wish, I need you to harvest it while I say the magic words, Freddie.” I look into her eyes. “You’re the one I love, so you’re my only hope of the wish coming true.” It comes out sounding too serious, and her eyebrows quirk in an almost-frown, as she searches my face.
I cross my eyes and grin like a goof, and she shakes her head. “This may be one of the silliest things you’ve ever made me do, including that dance-move you and the girls invented.”
“I didn’t invent it.” I protest. “ The Whistle-town Wiggle is an essential part of any Monaghan family gathering, and you’ll be glad I gave you lessons before Mom and Steve’s Thanksgiving barn dance. Now will you get down on your knees in the dirt and help me wish on these carrots or not?”
Fred laughs and kneels by my side, while I push my fingers down to loosen the soil all around my chosen wishing carrot.
“Okay, are you ready?” I ask her.
She tips her head, her eyes alight with a beautiful twinkle.
“Oh great and powerful fairy carrot, please grant me the wish of love everlasting with my angel, Frederica Beckett — slaker of my lust and mother of my children. Send me an offering. A sign of your belief that I will treasure her always, body and soul. A sign she accepts me as part of her world. That she is happy with me and with the life we lead together, and that she longs to be happy with me in all the years to come. And please, oh mighty fairy carrots, let Gail’s blessing this afternoon mean that we can stop fucking about in the cold every night, and can lie together in the same bed, under the same roof, in the loving home we will continue to build together. Thanking you in advance, your loyal servant and regular fertilizer, Vincent.”
I give Fred a nod, but she remains still, staring at me with eyes that glisten with moisture.
“You can harvest the wish now, Angel. Pull it out and hold it up to the sky.”
She lowers her gaze to the dirt and carefully pulls the carrot free. She raises it between us, and part of it shines like glitter in the moonlight. “Vince? ”
“Frederica Beckett, will you do whatever your happy equivalent of marriage is, with me?”
She presses her lips together and covers her mouth, as she stares at the ethically-sourced diamond ring stuck into the flesh of the root vegetable that has grown through its center. Her fingers tremble as she slowly lowers them. “ Yes .”
“ Yes? ” I ask, because she’s spoken so softly I don’t want to dash my hopes if I misheard.
She nods, and I gently take the carrot from her, dust the last of the dirt off, and then snap it at the weak point where it’s been wearing the ring like a belt. I bite off the next bit, and then pull the ring from my lips while I hold out my other hand for hers.
I slide the ring onto her finger and pull her into a hungry kiss before scooping her into my arms and carrying her toward the cottage. “We’ll talk about what you’ll need for your happy equivalent of marriage after we do some very noisy celebrating of my wish coming true.”
“It’s this , Vincent Monaghan.” She wraps her arms around me tightly. “All I need is this.”