Epilogue
Byrdie
Ahappy giggle is my favorite sound in the world.
Yawning as I shake off the last remnants of sleep, I climb out of bed and stuff my feet into the slippers beside my bed. Slipping into my bathrobe and belting it, I make the same journey I look forward to every morning.
It’s been a year since we settled into our new home, a five-bedroom cottage in the English countryside with dark green ivy creeping up the front.
We all loved Provence. Peaceful surroundings. The field of lavender. The villa was where we all found peace and happiness. Three months in the south of France was exactly what we all needed to decompress from everything that had happened in Massey. But it never felt like home.
None of us were interested in going back to Arizona. Nowhere else called to us until Nash stumbled upon an online listing for a fairytale-style house in the English countryside, available to rent for six months.
Nash looked at us and said, “How about we try Ivy Cottage for a couple of months?”
A couple of months turned into an offer to buy the place. We loved the house, the green spaces, and the village, a twenty-minute walk away, filled with friendly locals. And when we wanted to see a show or go shopping, a fast train got us to London in just over an hour.
Nash’s offer was accepted, and after several months spent buying the place and renovating it, we moved in just before I gave birth to Juliana.
I quietly push open the nursery door, rest my head on the door, and smile as I watch the men sprawled across the nursery rug.
Vonn is holding our giggly daughter when he says, “I still think she has my eyes.”
“Ana definitely has my eyes.” Makhi tickles her feet and grins when she giggles. “See.”
Nash takes Jules from Vonn with a wide smile. “Makhi’s temperament, maybe. Our little girl definitely has Vonn’s eyes.”
They talk quietly, not wanting to wake me.
Makhi lies back and folds his arms behind his head. “You say that as if having my temperament is a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Nash says, rubbing her back. “Except in the middle of the night when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs because she wants attention.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting attention,” Makhi mutters irritably, “and I have never screamed a day in my life.”
“She doesn’t have much of me,” Nash says.
“Don’t be silly,” I say, stepping into the room. “She has your smile, bright enough to light up a room.”
“We didn’t wake you, did we?” Nash asks, concerned.
I shake my head and cross toward him, settling on the thick Moroccan rug and leaning in for a kiss. “The happiest sound in the world woke me, and I’m not the least bit sorry about it.”
Nash kisses me, and Vonn takes Juliana from him before he slides his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder.
Makhi is making faces at Jules, and I’m trying very hard not to laugh.
“Keep that up and your face is going to stick that way,” Vonn warns him. “Not that it would make much of a difference, but…”
Makhi rolls his eyes at Vonn and goes back to making faces at our giggly daughter.
An orange cat darts into the room and settles in my lap.
I pet Ronnie, our orange furbaby, and he purrs loud enough to set Ana off in another round of loud giggles. I’m happy to report that our cat is not an asshole who claws everyone for no reason, though it took a while for me to stop flinching when he padded over to climb into my lap.
Nash brought him in, all damp and dirty, one rainy late afternoon after hearing him meowing in our garden.
We asked in the village the next day, but no one had any idea where Ronnie came from.
Even though we put up signs all over, no one ever called to claim him.
Locals said he was probably a stray or abandoned.
So, Ronnie became part of our family. Nance had tried to call him Ronald, but none of us liked the name. It felt too formal for such a chilled-out, lovable orange cat.
“Ah, you’re all awake.” Nance steps in, wiping her hands on her apron.
She still cooks most of our meals, and Nash has finally stopped prodding her to take it easy since she’s getting older. Nance has shown no signs of slowing down yet. I can picture her at eighty-five still at the stove, determined to feed us all.
We have a local woman who comes to clean a couple of times a week. Mary needed the money for her family, and we were happy for the help, especially while Ana is still so young. Nance has been teaching me to cook, though she loves to do it too much to stop.
Ronnie climbs out of my lap, and purring, winds his body around Nance’s legs.
She pats his head fondly. “Such a sweet kitty.”
“Unlike the last one,” Nash mutters.
Nance glares at him, blind to the old white scars on Nash’s forearms, lifelong proof of Reginald’s violent asshole nature.
Nash grins at her. “I’m joking. Reginald wasn’t all bad.”
As Nance strokes Ronnie’s head and Vonn hands Juliana to Makhi when he sits up, I watch Makhi draw more giggles out of our beautiful daughter with my head on Nash’s shoulder.
“We should have another one,” I say.
“Another cat?” Vonn asks.
“No,” I say, smiling at our daughter. “Another baby. A brother or sister for Ana.”
Vonn’s eyes are hooded as he leans over to claim my lips in a soft kiss. “When do you want to start trying?”
“Preferably not when I’m still in the room,” Nance says dryly, and I can’t help but laugh, even as I blush.
“Breakfast,” I say, getting to my feet with Nash’s help and holding my arms out for Ana. “And we can decide what we want to do today.”
Makhi hands her to me, and she immediately starts pulling my hair. I let out a quiet sigh and tug the white-blonde strands out of her grip. Now that my hair is a little shorter than shoulder length, I wish it weren’t so grabbable for a baby who loves to grab handfuls and stuff it in her mouth.
This life is nothing like I could have ever imagined. I have Nance, a mix of housekeeper, grandmother, and fierce protector of our unconventional family.
My heart belongs to three men whom I fall deeper in love with each day, and a beautiful little girl I never envisioned in my future. We have a peaceful home, a sanctuary for us all, and none of us ever wants to leave.
This life is mine, and my heart soars with the birds in the sky, eternally blessed that I have so much.
The End