Epilogue
Callie Rae
I lay a palm on the knit material over my swollen belly. My free fingers trace the contours of the wood ornament, and the tiny red, green, blue, and gold bulbs frame the piece. Highlighting the divots of the carved doves.
I smirk when I hear a small stampede marching down the stairs, only to be followed by Brant’s heavy boots.
“Mommy, Mommy! Come outside with us!”
“Snow angel!”
Rex and Lacey bounce in their puffy, winter suits, their appley cheeks blushed with glee. I bend to tug Rex’s beanie over his forehead, and Lacey holds her small hands out to me.
I secure Lacey’s mittens on. “Mommy can’t lay down these days. It takes an army to get her back up,” I mutter, finishing the tasks at hand. “Forget a mound of snow.”
My eyes lift to Brant strolling across the wood floor of the living room. The hem of his jeans rumple above his snow boots, and I straighten as he shrugs on his winter coat.
Rex and Lacey each grasp a leg of his. Their tiny fingers claw at the denim over Brant’s calves, and a chuckle runs from me.
“Daddy is moving as fast as he can,” Brant says. “Can we bring the impatience down to a five? Maybe? Just a thought.”
I walk over to Brant, nestling at his side when he shrugs a beanie on. He bends to plant a quick peck on my lips, his thick stubble grating me.
Our children immediately deject the gesture. “Eww!”
Rex shouts just as Lacey puckers her cherry lips in mockery. Or maybe it’s out of curiosity. I honestly can’t tell because she’s a pretty sharp three-year-old. Rex is more socially aware at five, so his scolding makes more sense.
Brant and I pop our eyes and mouths open as we look down. Our arms curl around our kids when Brant scrunches his face at them. “I guess Kara is lucky she’s sleeping, huh?” Then he leans in to tickle Lacey’s nose with his. “She doesn’t have to witness this gross behavior.”
A high-pitched giggle slips from Lacey before Brant’s scooping her up. Then Rex’s palm glides into mine.
“You sure you’re not in the mood to push around snow boulders?” Brant asks me. “You look like you’re just itching to bust your butt outside.”
I roll my eyes at his taunt. “Oh, yeah. Let me get right on that.”
We’re smiling as we tread across the wood floor to the tile of the kitchen. Brant opens the sliding door, lowering Lacey to her feet. Her boots sink into the snow on the stone steps, and I guide Rex’s hand outside for Brant to take it.
My palms plant on the door frame after. “Have fun!” I call out.
The three of them are already running over the thick layer of snow. Rex and Lacey chase Brant, and he’s playfully pivoting around them. Just as their innocent giggles serenade the cold air.
My chest thumps as their paths tangle endlessly. My grin stretches so wide that my cheeks pinch in slight discomfort. Brant’s legs begin to slow as he peeks over his shoulder, and our two little nuggets trail his huge body.
As soon as Rex’s palm touches Brant’s thigh, Brant plops into the slush. Feigning defeat as our two children climb over him. His black gloves appear as his large arms cuddle them close to his chest. Specks of snow spray all over their suits and beanies as their laughs echo throughout the yard.
A chill gusts from outside, sweeping along the hem of my flowy sweater dress. And if that wasn’t enough of a sign, Kara’s cry rings from the monitor on the kitchen counter.
I pull the sliding door in place, retreating into the kitchen. I watch Kara through the black and white video when she sits up. She cradles her teddy bear with a blanket, and I wait for her to hopefully resume her nap.
Her cry mellows, the melody jagged for the next minute.
The hollers from the backyard whip my gaze to the sliding doors, and Brant’s bent on his haunches.
He’s shoveling snow into a huge ball with his gloved palms, and Rex’s helping on the other side.
Of course, his small hands can only dig up so much.
Lacey’s stuck to Brant like a badge, as always. Her tiny hand sits on his upper arm, just watching him concoct this magical igloo for her. She’s always fascinated by her daddy, and I guess that’s not the worst trait she inherited from me. Maybe snoring like me from time to time, but never that.
No, never that.
Kara’s back to sleeping soundly, and I rest the monitor on the granite. My slippers stroll over the kitchen tile until I’m crossing the living room threshold. Then I’m admiring the ornament again.
My palms greet my hips, head angling as I digest the serene glow. The colorful Christmas lights are sprinkled on the nine-foot tree, and wafts of pine tickle my nose.
The peace absorbs into my skin when I stand before the built-in shelves. My stare eventually rests on the framed page of the scrapbook. I scan over our wedding photo—our first kiss as husband and wife under an arch of ivy.
Simple.
Minimal.
Us.
A smile curves my lips, and I read the title I’ve read a thousand times before—
Two Doves Soaring … On The Other Side.
The photo never fails to plant pleasure inside of me. And today is always the day it blossoms—Christmas Eve.
Not because of our station wagon rendezvous years ago.
But because I know I can finally look forward to tomorrow.
I get to wake up with two little rugrats climbing on top of our comforter. They’ll predictably beg us to rip open gifts from Santa. At eighteen months old, Kara’s not enormously interested just yet, but she’ll get there.
It’s the morning I always dreamed of.
I bustle my lips in the corner, peeking down at my sheer, black leggings. Then I’m slipping my Uggs and winter coat on, groaning when I have to bend at seven months pregnant.
I swipe the video monitor from the granite before tugging the glass door open. Giggles and fake groans tumble over the snow, and Brant’s head shoots up from his lying position.
The kids are glued to his chest before Rex stumbles off Brant. “Mommy! Come on!” Rex sings, trudging through the snow. He’s knee-deep in the slush, his green suit swooshing with the motion before Brant’s walking with Lacey.
“Okay, okay, let me help Mommy down!” Brant calls after him. “Don’t jump on her!”
“I know! She has a baby in her belly!” Rex answers.
I sigh through a smile, extending my gloved hand to Brant’s sodden one. My free palm is still tucked in my coat pocket with the baby monitor, and then I’m slowly stepping down.
The snow crumbles under my weight, my boots burrowing into the fluffy ice. Rex and Lacey scurry back to the boulder of snow, and Brant wraps an arm around me. Cocooning me into his side as we watch our two children.
They’re grinning from ear to ear, slapping each other with snowballs and laughing endlessly. All while they chase each other around.
They’re so small, but ready to take on the entire world and all its adventures.
I take a moment to slip the video monitor out of my pocket. Kara is still sleeping. The chilly wind whisks through my loose tendrils, and then Brant’s lips connect to my temple.
“Our family is almost complete,” he coos.
His free hand rests on my pregnant belly, and I tip my chin up to greet his hazel stare. “I can’t wait,” I reply, laying my hand over his.
A faint smirk tugs on his mouth as our cloaked fingers weave together. “You’re a trooper. Fourth rodeo.”
I shake my head, brows knitting in the center of my forehead. “Don’t ask me to do this again,” I grumble playfully. “I refuse.”
His forehead nudges mine, his brows dipping in feigned disappointment. “Okay, but you’re still gonna need me for sexual festivities, right?”
“Oh, right,” I snort through a breath. “I’m as sexy as ever. I bet you’re just dying to jump my bones while I’m carrying a watermelon.”
He shakes his head against mine, his hand cradling my growing belly. “No truer words ever spoken, Dove,” he whispers.
We smile, our gazes meeting our kids. We’re watching them carefully but also admiring the scene we’ve painted.
We.
We did this.
My head tilts so my temple can rest on Brant’s shoulder. I burrow into the cushion of his thick jacket realizing second chances aren’t granted to everyone. They’re reserved for a few cases.
This was the way it was always supposed to be. For all of us.
Brant and I.
Our parents.
Everything that was torn to bits on the other side is finally whole. Everything and everyone that wasn’t given a fighting chance now has a fighting shot. We glued the fragments back together.
Our love was the adhesive, and we altered fate.
Not everyone’s love can do that. But ours did. And as powerless as I always thought we were, hell … what do you know …
We’re as powerful as it gets.
“Is it everything you ever wanted?”
I nod to answer Brant’s question, only for our heads to turn to each other. “Now it is,” I say boldly. “Right now, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. And more.”
His lips flinch at the corner, and our mouths seal a long kiss. Of course, Rex and Lacey blow raspberries in the distance, flicking Brant and I’s attention.
“What was that?!” Brant scolds, pointing to them.
Their mouths drop, eyes gaping as they squeal and turn around. They begin to sprint in the opposite direction, and Brant’s right on their tail before he scoops them up. Their laughs jumble in the cold air, only to inch closer to me when Brant travels my way.
“I caught two offenders, Mommy. What should we do with ‘em?” he jokes through a sigh.
I purse my mouth, feigning contemplation as my hands greet my hips. “Make ‘em tell Santa.”
“Noooo!” Our kids whine in unison, and Brant and I chuckle.
He plants our kids on their small boots. Lacey takes off, forcing Brant to chase her, and then it’s Rex and me.
Our first born.
Conceived in the bed of a pickup.
“We’re not actually tellin’ Santa,” I say. “We’ll spare you this time.”
He shines his chicklet teeth, nudging closer to me until his gloved hands wrap around my thigh. “Thank you, Mommy.”
I grin just as my cloaked fingers elevate the underside of his chin. My eyes wander around his face, and from a quick glance, it’s as if Brant spit this kid out. Olive skin, sandy-brown hair, and peach lips. But his eyes?
They’re not Brant’s.
They’re not mine either.
They’re Daddy’s.
And as I look at my son’s dark eyes, I don’t have a single reason to be angry anymore. I’m not scared. I’m not resentful looking into those eyes like I once was.
I’m happy.
Happy.
He suddenly takes off to join Brant and Lacey. My attention swings across the huge yard, and there’s so much space. So much room.
Endless glee.
My garden is out of commission for the season, but we stuck metal sunflower stakes in the corner. Brant’s cheesy idea, but of course, I was in favor of it anyway.
I swivel my head around, catching the seafoam shutters lining the windows against the white siding. Giggles burst around me, chucking my attention back to the center of the yard.
Our two babies tackle the man below them deeper into the icy slush, and he takes it like a true champ.
Like a father.
The man who made my Christmas wish possible.
My hero. My everything.
Dove.
I love you.
The End