Epilogue Flo
Paint Day—I can’t say it’s a tradition I’ve ever heard of, but Leo is adamant that it’s a holiday that must be celebrated, so we’ve set up easels in the living room and have pushed all the furniture into the corners so they don’t get messy.
Evan watches his son set up the paints on the coffee table, and I grab Leo’s kiddie stool so he can reach his easel without having to go up on his tippy toes.
Taco, the brown rescue rabbit, sits by our feet patiently—I believe he thinks he’s more of a dog than a bunny, to be honest—looking between us for something to happen.
Ever since Cheese, Leo was adamant about rescuing animals and fostering them while they wait for their forever home. We’re on our third now.
“What do you want us to paint, Leo?” I question, paintbrush hanging out of my mouth. Evan’s eyes are on it as I chew.
“We don’t paint paper!” Leo wails, bracing his hands on his knees, releasing a loud laugh.
“You couldn’t have told us that before we set this all up?”
“We paint each other!” Without warning, Leo dunks his tiny hand in the neon pink paint, rushes up to his father, and leaves a very detailed handprint on his thigh.
I cover my mouth as I laugh. “Leo, you didn’t just do that.”
Evan glances down at his muscular, pink thigh, his eyebrows pushed together, and his forehead creases deeper.
“Now you!” Leo’s hand is already on my shin, staining it orange. But right before he can strike again, I dip my hand in the blue paint and stamp the kid’s chest with it. “Ha! Got you!”
He cracks up even more, jumping up and down on the spot.
“This is going to make such a mess,” Evan grumbles, but as he does, I cover my paintbrush in green and stroke his right cheek with it, lips trembling with laughter.
Leo squawks like a bird, his pinky finger placing a small dot of blue on the top of Donkey’s head before the kid drops him and runs as if the stuffed animal is about to get him back.
“Did you just—?” Evan’s blinking at me, and just as I think he’s about to cuss me out, he rushes to dunk both of his hands in the yellow and grips my shoulders, turning my top half into a Minion.
The colour slightly stains the straps of the white babydoll dress I’m wearing, and even though I spent days working on it, I don’t care enough about it to cut this moment short. Watching Evan’s face light up as he smothers me in paint is just too good to see.
But it doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with it.
“My dress!” I yell out in fake shock, releasing a loud gasp. “Oh my gosh! I spent ages on this. It’s ruined.”
“Shit.” Evan’s neck twists and turns for something to wipe the paint with quickly, but when I smirk, cover my hand with paint and press it to his chest, he narrows his eyes into slits.
“Gotcha!”
Evan bends down onto his haunches beside his son. His eyes are challenging, and both of their heads twizzle up to me slowly. “Leo, let’s get her!”
“Yeah!”
Evan’s shirt is off in a second, like he’s ready for the chase, and Leo copies him, throwing his paint-covered Whisker Wheelers top to the floor.
Both of them dunk their hands into more paint, and I race around the living room until I reach the open front door. I’m out like a bullet, bare feet padding against the warm grass, laughing manically.
“Get her, Daddy!” Leo’s little legs can’t keep up, but he tries nonetheless, until Evan grabs him and places him on his shoulders.
“You can’t get away from us, trouble.” Evan’s voice is so close, and after a second, I feel a steel-like arm wrap around my waist, coating me in a multitude of colours, and drag me to the ground. Leo lands on top of us, smushing his father’s face with red hands, before moving onto mine.
“We won!” he cheers.
This is definitely a picture. Leo, Evan, and I, in a heap on the floor in the setting sun, with the rays hitting us just perfectly, our clothes covered in paint that I’m pretty sure isn’t going to wash out.
But who cares? Because this is perfect. It’s right where I belong. In the city I love, with the boys I love.
My lips tug into a broad smile, and as Evan’s eyes soften and he looks between me and his son, before settling on my form, he says, “Yeah, buddy, we sure did,” and my chest tightens. “I love you, Flo.”
“I love you too. Both of you.”
“I love you!” Leo giggles as he bounces on top of us, wrapping his arms around both of our necks, but then he gasps, sits up and says, “Oh! I know what I want to do for my birthday!”
“What’s that, buddy?”
“Go ziplining!”