Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
October nears around the corner, and we survived the first month of school with Winnie. It hasn’t always been easy getting her there in the mornings, but when I pick her up in the afternoon, she always has a smile on her face.
She and Poppy are in the same class, and she is desk partners with a boy named Eric whom she informed that she has a sheep named Eric too. Luckily, he thought it was funny, and we arranged a playdate for him to meet Sheep-Eric, who is now a father of one very cute girl lamb named Fred.
When Winnie has a particularly difficult day at school, or her anxiety bubbles up about a phone call with her dad, Tanner takes her for a walk.
Their walks include just the two of them holding hands, roaming the property, talking to the chickens, dancing with the flowers, and sitting at the creek, tossing stones.
We still live in the apartment even though most evenings, at Winnie’s request, are spent at Tanner’s. We bring over pizza, play cards, and take care of the animals. I help hang the clothes on the line and sometimes Tanner even lets me cook for him.
Most nights, Tanner has Winnie on his lap while we sit on the porch, and he talks to her about how sometimes a dad just needs time to be steady before he can step up. He tells her about Ricky, his father, and Dan, his dad.
“Kinda like how he’s my dad and you’re also kinda my dad,” she had said back.
Those words rocked him. I saw it all over his body and his face as his lips puckered before he bit down on his cheek, tears welling in his eyes. He looked up at me for guidance or affirmation and I nodded.
“Yeah,” he said and kissed her head. “Yeah. Kinda like that.”
Tanner and I have decided to take things one challenge at a time.
Our focus right now is getting the gardens and farm ready for a soft opening in the spring and put my finance degree to use.
Then an engagement after. Then a wedding.
Then babies. Then a bigger house, then more babies.
But then again, what’s one more surprise baby for a Dorada girl?
Tanner wants five more. Winnie also wants five. I told them I will pop out a couple more and we will go from there. But secretly, I want five too.
Our usual quiet nights are spent laughing and smiling about our future as a family. We lie in the grass below the dizzying vastness of the dark sky, counting stars and losing track. Talking to the moon and waiting for her to talk back. Tonight is no different, other than the extra guests.
The Atwoods are all here, as well as the Auclairs, Gramma Dollie, Winnie’s YMCA friends, and even some of the newer friends from Winnie’s school. The newly renamed Jo Atwood Lower Elementary School.
We have a bonfire roaring in the yard, pizza and a pitcher of iced tea on the counter inside, beer in the cooler, and beach towels drying on the line from a far too chilly afternoon of swimming in the creek.
We cling to summer and the final warm threads of sunshine, but the only thing I cling to more is the hope and love I have here.
In my new home. With the people we call home.
Now, an SUV pulls up the drive and finds one of the few remaining spots to park, and out pops Sebastian.
He’s agreed to be the mediator between Ethan and I as we set up a plan of visitation for him and Winnie without getting the courts involved.
Sebastian is looking to move here in the next few months and has been looking at a run-down cabin on the outskirts of town.
He walks up carrying a bottle of whiskey and sporting a new baseball hat, a style he has picked up from hanging out with Tanner so much in the past month.
“Hi Seb.”
“Hey Kid.” He pulls me into his side and kisses the top of my head.
As he pulls away, I see his eyes catch on something behind me. Then a click of his jaw.
I spin, and through a parting of the crowd, my eyes find Gwen Atwood across the way. Her curly hair is a wild mess, she’s barefoot and looking back at Seb with some sort of strangled confusion.
“That’s Gwen,” I say. “She was in Lauren and Rhett’s wedding.”
“I remember,” he snaps then blinks away from her.
She spins, dips under the massive ferns hanging from the porch roof and dashes inside.
Tanner laughs and slips from next to me and claps Seb’s shoulder. “Come on. Go put that whiskey inside. Winnie’s been waiting on you to start this football game.” He pats my butt before kissing me.
Our roots, deep and tangled, are thriving amongst each other’s. It had been so silly of me to think I could have ever lived without any of this. Sometimes you find love in the last place you look.
When I told Ethan I was moving here, it was the first time he had seen Winnie in a long time. I had gone home with Paul and Mom for the weekend when they decided to list their house for sale. Turns out they were house hunting while in Florida.
While in town, Winnie and I met with Ethan over coffee.
He looked thinner. Tired. Smelled of artificial floral perfume.
Like her. His eyes glazed over me as he told me how he’s been going to therapy.
How he wanted to see Winnie and make things right with her.
He seemed good, honest, almost. But when I breached the topic of me moving here and being with Tanner, he almost scoffed.
“This doesn’t feel like the time or place to talk about it,” he said glancing down at Winnie who was drawing a picture of our family. Her in little purple boots, overalls, and a Cubs shirt with me on her one side in a dress and my hair down.
“You know, Ethan. I’m really not worried about the time and place. I’m more worried about a healthy step forward for our family. And it starts with me choosing love, and a place to raise my daughter where she also will also be loved.”
He nodded curtly, his sharp features shifting slightly at the sight of the image Winnie drew. He made a quick exit after a hug from her.
In the drawing, on her other side, was Tanner in his matching Cubs hat. The chickens, sheep, and cow in the background.
That picture now hangs on Tanner’s fridge, labeled as “Our family.”
Winnie and Tanner call me over to the football game that’s ready to begin. Before I join them, I glance around the yard.
The sky stretches above us in marbled pink and blue waves.
Streaks of wispy thin clouds let every strand of warm golden sunlight break through.
Late September has no business looking like this.
This sky was for June and July. Not early clothes-line-dried Autumn evenings with a cool northern breeze blowing in.
“Alright.” Tanner claps his hands together, flips his Chicago Cubs hat backwards, then points at me. “Mom, you’re on a team with Rhett and Jackie. Fred, me and Seb will be on the other team.”
Winnie, Seb, and Tanner lose in spectacular fashion because Winnie only laughs when Rhett throws her over his shoulder and runs her and the ball toward the designated end zone.
When we finally call it quits and head toward the bonfire, I wish for nothing. Not sun or even a shift in the wind, because now the wind and the sky and my mind settle together in a heart fluttering calm. Winnie dances around and Tanner beckons me to sit on his lap.
“Tell me about your day,” he says into my shoulder and presses his lips against my skin.
“Even the boring parts?”
I feel his lips quirk into a smile. “Especially the boring parts.”