Epilogue
Four Years Later
“Dad,” Claire hisses from across the dining table. “Don’t you think that’s enough questions? Aiden can barely eat.”
The large square table in the formal dining room can seat twelve people easily. Even so, we’re usually clustered close, only taking up two sides with my pregnant wife right next to me, my daughters sitting together on my left side. But today the table is far more full than I prefer. Claire and her date are sitting next to each other. Charlie and her date, adjacent. I blinked and my girls are suddenly teenagers, heading to prom.
I always thought I’d be a cool dad, especially because my daughters are adopted. Our bonds started with friendship. I thought I’d be evolved enough to respect two young ladies becoming women, but nope. I was wrong.
Very wrong.
All I can think of is driving my foot up both of these suckers’ asses. I was eighteen once. I know exactly what’s on their minds, which is why I insisted on doing the pre-prom dinner at our house so I could intimidate their dates properly. I even offered up the finally constructed and operational hotel-casino that Dad, me, and Spencer busted our asses over for three long years. I gifted Serendipity’s Ballroom A as the venue for Charlie and Claire’s high school prom this year.
The school was so blown away by my generosity, they didn’t pry into my ulterior motives, which was an excuse to chaperone tonight. I claimed it was for quality control purposes as Serendipity has only been operating for less than a year, but let’s be honest–I want to keep an eye on how close these kids are dancing. I am not above pulling the fire alarm and ruining over a hundred teenage girls’ updos if their hands get too curious.
“Sorry, Aiden,” I reluctantly acquiesce. “Please enjoy your steak.” I gesture to his untouched dinner then turn my attention to Charlie’s date. “So, Mitchell, are you looking forward to tonight?”
“Yes, sir.” He nods eagerly. His fair skin and blue eyes are a stark contrast from Claire’s date, Aiden, who is dark-haired with deep brown skin.
“And explain to me why you couldn’t find a date your own age, and decided to ask Charlie to prom, who is two whole grades behind you?”
“Dad. Stop!” Charlie shrieks.
“Nope. Fair question,” I answer.
“Spence…help,” Charlie pleads, making bug eyes at her big sister, begging her to rein me in.
Mitchell clears his throat and nervously straightens his bow tie.
“Nathan,” Spencer grumbles out in a tepid warning.
“What?” I ask, feigning innocence. She lifts one brow, daring me to continue being an ass. “Fine. What I meant, Mitchell, is how did you and Charlie meet?”
“Um… Well, sir, Charlie and I met through swim class. Electives aren’t grade specific so we were on a relay team together. We’ve spent a lot of time getting to know each other–”
“In your bathing suits?” My jaw tightens as I imagine wrapping my hands around his throat.
“No!” Mitchell squabbles out, fear exactly where I want it–in his eyes. “I mean, yes, we wear swimsuits to swim class, but I didn’t ask her out just because I’ve seen her–” He stops short of concluding his thought and hangs his head. “I think I need to be done talking now. Aiden looks full if you want to ask him more questions.”
“Dude,” Aiden protests, then quickly shoves another bite of steak in his mouth so he’s busy chewing.
“Here are the rules for tonight,” I begin, deepening my voice. “No drinking, no drugs, curfew is ten o’clock–”
“Eleven,” Claire chimes in, reminding me of my promise.
“Fine. Eleven. You guys are welcome to come back here and use the pool, but I want you all swimming in long-sleeved wet suits, fully zipped up. Clear?”
Spencer pats both hands on the table and scoots her chair back. “Kids, go ahead and finish eating. But save room for dessert. I made churro cheesecake. And don’t forget, we only have forty minutes before Finn gets here to take pictures.”
The girls still need to put their dresses on. They had dinner in jeans and T-shirts to avoid accidentally staining their couture gowns.
I didn’t have to teach Claire and Charlie humility and modesty. It’s in their bones. Despite our wealth, my daughters never come to me with greedy hands. But we pulled out all the stops for this milestone in their lives. Between their dresses, shoes, jewelry, the makeup artist, and private limo, I could’ve bought them each a mid-trim sedan.
I’m about to dive back into my meal when I glance up to meet my wife’s scowl. She has both hands on her hips. “Sweetheart, can you help me with the cheesecake?” Spencer flutters her eyelashes at me while a creepily sweet smile expands on her face.
Ah, fuck. I’m in trouble. She only smiles like that when she’s trying to keep her composure.
I push back from the table and follow her down the hall to the kitchen. I’ve barely turned the corner when her finger jabs me in the chest.
“What is your problem?” she asks. “You said you were going to behave tonight.”
“I was behaving.”
“You grilled Aiden like you were trying to get a confession out of him.”
“I did not.”
“You asked him if he was involved in any offshore investments.” Spencer folds her arms across her chest.
“His dad is a junior partner at Drexol Holdings. They just had a huge scandal with illegal offshore shell companies. I was simply asking–”
“He’s eighteen.”
“Exactly. He’s an adult. Old enough for a credit card. Old enough to invest. Way too old to be dating my kid.”
“They are two years apart, Nathan.”
“Two years too many,” I insist.
“Your hypocrisy is stunning, truly. I’m ten years your junior, Grandpa.”
God, she’s cute. Even when she’s making fun of me. I crack a small smile. “Real funny. Pregnancy has made you glib.” I put my hand on her belly, hoping to feel a little kick, even though she’s told me time and time again it’s too early.
“I’ve always been glib. You, however, have gotten very grumpy in your old age. Are you shocked that your fifteen- and sixteen-year-old girls are interested in dating?” She pretends to gasp in horror.
“It’s not that. Boys his age only have one agenda. When I asked you out, I was a man, fully capable of paying for dinner, and taking care of you and your family. ”
Eyes wide like an owl, Spencer scoffs. “Asked me out? You tortured me as your assistant for a few weeks, locked me away in your guest room, then spanked me in your office. Not exactly the courtship of fairy tales.”
I wince with a flicker of remorse. “There was way more to the story than that. And I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make up for–”
She bursts out in a chuckle. “I’m kidding. I love our story. How much we’ve grown together. You’re a good man and I’m head over heels in love with you, over the moon that I’m carrying your son.”
“I love you too, baby, I just–” I halt, frozen by shock as her words seep in. Son? She’s carrying my son?
“Whoops. Did I let that slip?” The look on Spencer’s face, sly and proud, tells me she meant to spill.
My hands are around her stomach immediately. “When did you find out?”
“I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry. They emailed me the blood test results. I had a whole cute thing planned with a pi?ata to tell you, but it’s not as easy as you’d think to hunt down all-blue candy. Everything is blue raspberry flavored, which let’s be honest, is just garbage and I–”
“Are you happy?”
Her smile is soft and sweet. “Are you?”
I nod. “So happy. But boy or girl, I don’t care. I’m just happy this is happening with you.” I pull her hand to my lips and sweetly kiss her palm. “I hope he gets your smile, your wit, and your fierce determination. I hope he gets your big heart too.”
She issues a small hum of appreciation, as her hand cradles my cheek. “You’re sweet.”
“What do you want for our son?”
She pops her shoulders playfully. “I want when he’s eighteen to not be interrogated in his girlfriend’s home after he brought her such a pretty corsage and has been nothing but a gentleman all night.”
“You think I’m being unreasonable?” I ask.
“I think you love your girls very much.” She scrunches her nose. “And yes. Very unreasonable. But you’re justified. I know it’s hard to watch them grow up. But this is a big moment for Claire and Charlie.”
“Prom?” I ask, skeptically.
“This is where young women learn how men should treat them. These boys have called you ‘sir’ all night. They chose to sit through a very uncomfortable dinner with their dates’ family instead of pre-gaming with Burnett’s and Red Bull at some house party. And by the way, the swim class thing? Charlie isn’t a strong swimmer. She was getting harassed for constantly causing her team to lose the relay races. Mitchell’s a captain on the team. He’ll probably end up in the Olympics one day. He asked for Charlie to join his relay team instead because he can easily even the playing field and make up for her lost time. He’s protecting her. It reminds me of something you would do.”
I wrap my hand around the small of her back, pulling her in close. My lips brush against the top of her sweet-smelling hair. Ever since Spencer got pregnant, she complains that her shampoo reeks. It’s hormones. She still smells like strawberry pie. The smell that makes me feel like I’m home.
“Okay. If I want the girls to have a good experience tonight, what should I do?”
“Don’t go to their prom,” Spencer explains simply. “Give them space and an opportunity to make good choices.”
“Okay.”
“Curfew at midnight,” Spencer continues.
“I can do that.”
“And if they choose to swim… I mean, who, outside of Dex, has spare wet suits lying around?”
I bark out a dry laugh. “All right, all right. Just promise me you’ll never leave me. I think you’re the only reason I don’t make an ass out of myself daily.”
She nuzzles deeper into my embrace. “Thank you. I’m so glad to be getting some credit finally.”
Leaning away, I hook my finger underneath her chin. “So just you and me tonight, huh?” I show her a salacious grin. “What ever shall we do?”
Spencer shrugs, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t know, Grandpa. So many possibilities. Want to go sit on the porch and yell at kids to stay off our lawn? Or maybe we hit up Golden Corral and complain that we missed the early-bird special and now the brisket is far too dry, and there wasn’t enough cobbler to go around. Oooh, I’ve got it. Let’s go to the post office and bitch about the never-ending rising costs of stamps.”
“Mean, woman. You’re just mean.”
We both burst into raspy chuckles that echo in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, my love,” Spencer says quietly. “How can I make it up to you?”
I nod over my shoulder to the fridge. “That churro cheesecake is a fantastic start. But if you’re really sorry…” I trace my fingertips lightly over the curve of her ass. “It’s been a while.”
She backpedals once. “I know. I just feel…off. I mean, I’m only twelve weeks pregnant,” she says, grabbing underneath her arms and squeezing where it’s soft. “I already know I’m going to gain a lot of weight. My mom did too with Charlie. Genetics, I suppose.”
I step forward, closing the space she introduced. “You are so beautiful. Now more so than ever.”
She places her hand against my chest. “I’m serious, Nathan. I’m struggling with this.”
I want to tell her she has nothing to worry about, but I don’t want to negate her feelings. “How can I help?”
“I don’t think you can. I just don’t feel sexy. And while we’re on the subject, I don’t know what kind of fucked-up sorcery this is, but how come when wives get pregnant and extra jiggly, their husbands tighten up even more?” She runs her hands down my torso. “See? You almost have an eight-pack all the sudden. How is that fair?”
“I have an idea that might help, but I need you to trust me. Really trust me.”
Her gaze flicks upward to lock on mine. “I trust you with my whole heart.”
“Then let’s eat this cheesecake, get these kids out the door, and then later tonight, when I get you naked and alone, I want to record you.”
She looks at me like I just suggested we go commit some felonies for fun. “You are unhinged.”
“Just your face, baby. I want you to see what I see when I look at you. When I’m making you feel good, when you’re happy, and satisfied, it’s beauty like I can’t explain. You’re always gorgeous, Spencer. But when you’re with me, all mine, it’s something I can’t describe.” I kiss her forehead, then each cheek, before I rake my lips down her neck, feeling the warmth of her delicate skin. “I will always want you. And the days you’re feeling insecure, tell me. I know it’s hard to share this stuff, but be honest with me. Whenever you forget who you are and how I see you, I’ll always be here to remind you.”
“Thank you. It’s not hard to share with you. You make it easy.” She half-smiles, a glint of flirtation in her eyes. “So, sexy selfies are really your kink, aren’t they? Thank goodness I had the good sense to lock you down with one of those four years ago.”
A rumble erupts from my chest, breaking free as playful laughter. “Only with you, pumpkin. All I want is you.”
She weaves her fingers in mine, the large, pink diamond ring on her left hand pressing hard against my knuckle. “No need to pine too hard. You’ve got me, Nathan. Forever.”
The End