Epilogue #2
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you want to try and have one? I might be too old.” At thirty-eight it would be hard to get pregnant, but I would try if it’s what Hunter wanted.
“Let’s say we leave it to chance,” Hunter said. “No pressure. But no birth control.”
I got up to wrap myself around him. “I think that’s a perfect idea.”
“Are you sure you’d be okay if you got pregnant? You have a lot going on with work.”
I looked up and into his eyes. “You know what—there’s more to life than work. And babies are at the top of the list.”
He kissed me. “We’ll leave it to fate then.”
“Fate brought us together … so yeah, we’ll trust that, whatever’s supposed to happen, will.”
Tyler came out with the salad and steak sauce, plus a pitcher of lemonade. “Mom, Robbie just texted. He saw a pregnancy test box in the trash.”
I laughed. “Of course he did.”
“Well?” Tyler asked as he set everything on the table.
“You can’t tell the others because Esme just found out, but yes. She’s going to have a baby.”
“That’s amazing. Madison’s going to be really happy,” Tyler said. “I’m not sure what Robbie will think.”
“He’ll probably buy a book about childhood development,” Hunter said, making us laugh.
The steaks came off the grill. Tyler poured drinks. Hunter put on music which drifted from the outdoor speakers, and we sat down at the table. Hunter raised his glass.
“To the new book and playoffs and Ivy’s album and Esme and Grady’s baby. And most of all, to our court date.” Hunter paused dramatically. “I heard from them. Official adoption will happen at the courthouse in three days.”
“No way,” Tyler said. “It’s really happening?”
“You and me, kid,” Hunter said. “Father and son.”
“This is a good day,” Tyler said.
Then we all cut into our steaks, the summer evening warm against our skin. How could life be this sweet? But who was I to question it? I would bask in it all for as long as it lasted, grateful for all of God’s blessings.
Hunter
Three days later, we stood in the Mendocino County Courthouse.
Tyler stood next to me in front of the judge’s bench, wearing a button-down shirt.
I’d worn a suit, even though it wasn’t really necessary.
Seraphina was on his other side, wearing a pretty dress and clutching a tissue she was already using.
“Mr. Sloan,” the judge said. She was a small woman with gray hair. Black-rimmed glasses. “You’re petitioning to adopt Tyler Beau Sinclair as your legal son.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Tyler.” She turned to him. “You’re fifteen years old. The court requires your consent. Do you wish to be adopted by Hunter Sloan?”
Tyler glanced at me. Then back at the judge.
“Not to sound sappy, but he’s the only father I could ever want. He’s perfect.”
Seraphina made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
The judge smiled. “I’ve been doing this for twenty-two years.
I’ve seen a lot of adoptions. But I have to say, this one feels special.
” She picked up her pen. “By the power vested in me by the State of California, I hereby grant the petition for adoption. Hunter Sloan, Tyler is now legally your son.”
She signed the document. Just like that we were an official family. Not that we needed a piece of paper to be one, but it meant a lot to Tyler. And to me. I wanted my boy to never have any doubts about how much I loved him.
Tyler turned to me, tears in his eyes. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said, my own voice rough. “Come here.”
He stepped into my arms, and I held him for a moment.
“Thanks for choosing me,” he said against my shoulder.
“Thanks for letting me.”
Seraphina wrapped her arms around both of us, and we stood there in the courthouse, the three of us tangled together, while the judge pretended to organize papers and gave us our moment.
When we finally pulled apart, Tyler wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“Should we go have lunch?” Hunter asked.
“Actually,” Seraphina said, exchanging a look with Tyler, “we have one more stop to make.”
“We do?” Hunter asked.
“It’s a surprise.” Tyler was grinning now, the tears gone, replaced by something mischievous. “Mom’s idea. But I helped.”
They led me back to the car, refusing to answer any questions. Seraphina drove while Tyler kept glancing at me from the back seat, practically vibrating with excitement.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of the Willet Cove Animal Shelter.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” Seraphina took my hand. “Come on.”
Inside, a woman at the front desk smiled when she saw us. “The Sinclair-Sloan family? We’ve been expecting you. Follow me.”
She led us down a hallway lined with kennels. Dogs barked and wagged and pressed their noses against the chain-link. I looked at Seraphina, starting to understand but not quite believing.
“You said you’ve always wanted a dog. It’s time,” Seraphina said.
“Okay. Didn’t see this coming,” Hunter said.
“We found the perfect dog for us,” Tyler said. “We hope you’ll love him too.”
The woman stopped at a kennel near the end. “Here he is.”
I looked through the chain-link, and my chest immediately ached with love.
He was some kind of lab mix with floppy ears, enormous brown eyes, golden fur with a white patch on his chest. He was pressed against the back of the kennel, trembling slightly, watching us. I could almost hear him say, Please don’t hurt me. And please be the ones who stay.
“Someone found him on the side of Highway 1,” the woman said. “Just dumped there. No collar, no chip. He was dehydrated and scared. He’s been here about three weeks and has recovered nicely but he needs his forever home.”
“Someone just left him,” Tyler said, his voice sad. “How could anyone do it?”
“So that the right family could find him,” Seraphina said.
I crouched down in front of the kennel. The puppy’s ears perked up, but he didn’t move. Who could blame him? He’d been left on the side of the road like he was nothing. He probably thought no one could love him.
But he was wrong. Just as I’d been.
“Hey, buddy,” I said softly. “I know how you feel. I got left behind too.”
The puppy tilted his head, one ear twitching.
“But we don’t need to worry about that ever again.” I kept my voice low, gentle. “Because we’re here now. You’re going home with us, okay? And we’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
The puppy took a tentative step forward.
“What do you think?” I asked him. “You game?”
He came another step closer. Then another. Until he was at the front of the kennel, pressing his nose through the chain-link, his tail wagging hesitantly.
I looked up at Seraphina and Tyler. They shared the same soft expression.
“Can he come out?” I asked the woman.
She unlatched the kennel door, and the puppy tumbled into my arms. He was warm and wriggly and he licked my face like I was the best thing he’d ever seen.
“Ah, there you are,” I said. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”
More tail wagging. More kisses.
“What are you going to name him?” Tyler asked.
I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking about Wes and Margaret, who’d taken in a lost kid and given him a home. Then, Seraphina and Tyler, who’d done the same thing all over again. Brought me home. And that’s what we were going to do with this lucky puppy.
“Lucky,” I said. “Because he and I are lucky to be loved by you two.”
Lucky barked once, as if in agreement.
We filled out the paperwork. We bought a leash and a collar and more toys than any dog could possibly need. Together, we walked out into the California sunshine, a family of four.
“Welcome to the family,” Tyler said, scratching behind Lucky’s ears. “You’ll never be tossed away ever again.”
Lucky wagged his tail so hard his whole body wiggled.
I put my arm around Seraphina, our son walking beside us, Lucky trotting ahead on his new leash. How had I ever thought my life was over? I’d been very wrong. It was actually just beginning.
Thank you for reading Second Song!