Epilogue #2
Dad reaches the bottom step and stands there, breathing a bit heavier but smiling. That same smile he had when he watched me skate for the first time as a kid, or when I got drafted… though there were tears in his eyes that time.
“Hey, Pops,” I say, voice rough. “You broke your parole or something? Thought you were housebound.”
He snorts. “You’re not the only one in the family who can pull off a comeback, kid.”
I walk forward and hug him, careful but firm. He hugs me back just as hard.
He smells of coffee and wood smoke and the same aftershave he’s used since before I was born.
When I pull back, Katerina is standing a few feet away, trying not to cry. Her gaze flicks from my dad’s cane to his face to mine.
Dad spots her, and his expression softens.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite daughter-in-law,” he says. “You bring my grandson all the way out here, and you don’t even get a hug first? Rude, Scottie.”
Katerina laughs, stepping forward into the hug he opens for her. He wraps one arm around her shoulders, the other still braced on the cane.
“You look good, Arnold,” she says quietly.
“So do you, sweetheart.” He squeezes her. “Thank you. How’s your grandmother?”
“She’s good. She said she’s working on her chess game so she can beat you the next time you come to Seattle,” Kat tells him.
“Tell her ‘she’s on’,” he smiles. “Now come on, let’s get you all inside before you freeze.”
As we step inside, Moose comes barreling around the corner, nails scrabbling on the hardwood.
“Moose.” I bark. “Gentle.”
He skids to a halt, tail wagging furiously, then sniffs Roman’s tiny snow boots.
Roman shrieks with glee. “Dog.” Or something close to that.
“Yep,” I say. “That’s Moose. Moose, this is your new human. Protect him with your life.”
Moose licks his mitten. Roman squeals louder. Katerina laughs, and the sound wraps around my ribcage like a bandage and a brand all at once.
Yeah. This. This is what we fought for.
Later that night, the house is quiet in the way all family homes are once the kid is finally down.
Roman is asleep in the old crib my parents dug out of storage, clutching a battered stuffed moose Luka sent as a joke. Moose the dog is snoring at the foot of the bed like he’s on night watch.
Mom and Dad went to bed an hour ago. They pretended it was because they were tired. We all know it’s because they want to cuddle without an audience.
Katerina and I are out on the back porch with mugs of hot chocolate, watching the snow fall with our breath puffing like smoke.
She’s wrapped in one of my old hoodies under her coat, legs tucked under her on the porch swing. I’m beside her, one arm stretched along the back of the swing so she can lean into me.
“I could fall asleep out here,” she says softly.
“I’d carry you in,” I say. “Like a gentleman.”
She gives me a sideways look. “You always say that, and we always end up running into a doorframe.”
“That was one time.”
“And the dresser.”
“That dresser had it coming.”
She laughs, the sound drifting up into the cold air.
For a while, we’re quiet. Just… breathing. Listening to the creak of the swing, the distant hoot of an owl, and the muted sounds of the house settling.
“Do you ever think about it?” she asks suddenly. “About… if things had gone differently. If I had gone back to Moscow. If your father had never gotten the spot. If—”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think about it. And then I think about how we’d still be fucking idiots in love, just long-distance and miserable.”
She smiles faintly. “You were never very good at letting me go.”
“Still not,” I admit. “I tried for about… fourteen minutes once, and it almost killed me.”
She rests her hand over my heart. “You forgave me too easily.”
I catch her fingers. “I forgave you exactly as much as you earned. You tried to break your own heart to save my family. That’s not something I’ll ever hold against you.”
Her eyes shine again, but this time there’s no panic in them. Just emotion.
“I love you,” she says simply.
“Good,” I whisper, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. “Because I’m crazy about you, and it would be awkward if that was one-sided after all this time.”
We fall silent again.
I sip my hot chocolate, then drop a kiss on the top of her head. “So what’s next, KitKat?”
She tilts her face up to me. “Next?”
“We’ve got Christmas in Whitefish,” I say.
“Dad’s walking. You’ve got a call from that woman who wants to remodel that old theater with the other Kauffman brother’s money.
I’ve only got one and a half more years on my contract with the Hawkeyes.
” I shrug. “Feels like we should plan something fun. A trip. A goal. A new way to shock your grandmother.”
She hums, considering. “We could give her another great-grandchild.”
My brain short-circuits for a second. “Wait. Are you serious?”
“Maybe. I like the idea of another little Easton. A sibling for Roman. Maybe one with my terrible feet and your terrible sense of humor.”
“Hey,” I protest, but my heart is already doing cartwheels. “My sense of humor is excellent, thank you.”
She smiles. “It’s why I married you. That and the honky-tonk dancing.”
“I knew it,” I groan.
She laughs and kisses my jaw. “We don’t have to decide now,” she says. “I was just thinking… this life feels big enough for more. That’s all.”
I look back through the window at the darkened house. In the shadow of my dad’s cane by the door. At the faint nightlight glow from the room my son is sleeping in.
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “Katerina?”
“Yeah?” she asks.
I smile down at her. “You’re the best bet I ever made.”
She lifts up, kisses me slow, deeply, like we have all the time in the world.
Snow falls around us, soft and steady.
Inside, my family sleeps.
Out here, with my wife in my arms and my future stretching out in front of us, I know one thing with more certainty than I’ve ever known anything:
I’d lose that bet again.
Any day.