Epilogue
Cale
One year later
Ayear after I proposed, Melanie and I married in a quiet ceremony in the backyard of our new home—built by Garth and his crew. It was out on the edge of town, surrounded by trees and with a small creek running along the back of the property.
Melanie maintained that, even though she didn’t have a big first wedding, it wasn’t something she wanted or needed.
All she wanted was for everyone she loved to be there, watching as we said our vows to each other.
And I was happy to do whatever the hell she wanted, as long as it ended with my ring on her finger.
She hasn’t changed her name to Evans, not wanting Oakley to ever feel alienated in his own family, but it didn’t bother me. I knew she was mine, and so was he.
Now, we’re celebrating Oakley’s tenth birthday—my second birthday with him—but you wouldn’t know it by the look on his face as he stares at his mother, his mouth a severe slash.
“There’s a cake at home. I watched you bake it.”
“I know,” Melanie grins, pushing the plate closer. The slice looks a little strange with one candle pushed into the surface, but Jamie insisted.
Oakley looks at it before pinning her with another frown. “Is the cake not for me?”
I lean back in my seat. “The cake is for you, Killer. But if you don’t want the lemon bar…”
I reach for the plate, but he swats my hand away, practically growling. “Mine!” He yanks the slice closer, staring down at the candle. His shoulders lift as he inhales, and then he blows it out.
“How does it feel to be ten?” Melanie wonders.
“The same as being nine,” he answers absent-mindedly, plucking the candle out and taking a massive bite of the lemon bar. “But a little taller.”
“Not that much taller,” I argue playfully. “You aren’t tall until you can reach your mom’s treats that she hides on the top shelf.”
My wife’s mouth drops open. “You’re the one who has been stealing my chocolates?” She glares at me. “That’s a divorce-level betrayal right there.”
I wink. “Love it when you talk dirty.”
Oakley fakes a gag, pointing a finger at me before swinging it her way. “No! Not on my birthday. It’s a rule.”
“I thought that was last year’s rule.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “It’s an every year rule. And it should be an every day rule,” he finishes on a mumble. “Anyway, Mom, we’ve both been stealing your chocolate. I just stand on a chair.”
Her eyes flare as she claps a hand to her chest. “I don’t know how I’ll ever recover from this,” she exclaims dramatically. “My own family—stabbing me in the back!”
I cock a brow. “Hope you never had dreams of stardom, darlin’. Your acting could use some work.”
Melanie sniffs. “Well, I’m getting a cupcake and eating my feelings. And you”—she jabs a finger in my direction—“aren’t getting one.”
I watch her walk away from the table, veering around the crowd milling in Frothy Cakes, smiling and talking to each person that she knows.
Oakley catches my attention when he asks, “Are Jaz and Lanie coming over later?” He finishes off his lemon bar, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Yep.” I stretch my legs out in front of me, crossing an ankle over the other. “Lanie’s bringing that new game for you to try out. Don’t worry, whatever the game is, I won’t let you win.”
He scoffs. “You’ve never let me win anything.” He glances at me, something unusually serious flickering through his eyes. It’s an expression I’ve been seeing more often of late, and I lock eyes with him.
“What’s up, Oak?”
He rips a piece of his napkin off, frowning down at it. “Do you think you and Mom will have kids? I mean, most people want kids of their own, right? So, I was just wondering…”
I blink. “What brought this on?”
“Nell and I were talking about it,” he murmurs. “Rosie’s baby is cute and all, but…I don’t know. I guess after what Davis did…”
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name, and even longer since Oakley has called him Dad. I don’t think anyone blamed him for that, although I know Melanie interrogated the therapist over it and what she was supposed to do.
“What brought this on?” I sit up, leaning forward and crossing my arms on the table.
“Clarissa,” he mutters. “Her grandmother took her to see her mother last weekend. She didn’t say much about what happened, but that night, I had a nightmare.” He looks up at me through his lashes, mouth downturned. “It’s been a long time since I had a nightmare.”
I nod slowly. “Was it about Davis? The night he took you?” I’m surprised when Oakley slowly shakes his head. “What happened, Killer?”
He swallows hard, checking over my shoulder to clock where Melanie’s gone, but she and Jamie are locked in a conversation, the baker’s hand gesticulating wildly.
“What happened?” I ask quietly. “In your nightmare.”
Oakley rolls his lips inward, his shoulders hunching up. He’s silent for so long that I’m sure he’s not going to answer me, but then—
“You replaced me,” he admits hoarsely. “Like Davis did. You and Mom started a new family, and I just…” He trails off with a shrug, not meeting my eyes. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” I counter. “Your feelings matter, and just because it’s been a long time since your fa—” I cut myself at the sharp look he sends me, correcting. “Dipshit happened, doesn’t mean those feelings or worries just disappear.”
“Dipshit,” he repeats, mouth quirking slightly.
“If you repeat that to your mother, I’m blaming you.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I know all that, anyway. It was just a stupid dream.” His words are all right, but I definitely don’t believe him. Before I can press the issue, Melanie’s back, a half-eaten cupcake in her hand.
I eye her. “Didn’t want to take any chances in sharing, huh?”
“Well, I clearly can’t trust either of my boys around chocolate, so…” Melanie takes another pointed bite, chocolate buttercream decorating her top lip. She glances at Oakley, making sure he’s distracted, and then back at me, coyly licking the frosting away.
I glare at her way in warning, but she only grins impishly back. “I was just telling Oakley that it’s time for his present from me.” That wipes the look off her face as her eyes widen, even as Oakley straightens and stares at me.
“I thought we were doing that after dinner,” she reminds me, a question in her tone.
“We were,” I agree, “but I think we should do it now.”
“What present?” Oakley’s eyes are glinting with childlike greed, everything else temporarily forgotten.
“Guess we need to get home if you want to find out.” He’s up and walking for the door before I’ve even finished talking, leaving both Melanie and me gaping after him.
As we gather our things, she looks at me, asking curiously, “Something I should know?”
I slip an arm around her waist. “I’ll let you know later.” I duck, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Trust me on this.”
She smiles, offering me a bite of cupcake. “Always.”
Oakley sits on the couch, staring up at me expectantly. “I’m ready.”
I prop my hands on my hips. “You’re not gonna suck up to me? Not even a little bit?”
He smirks—as only a ten-year-old can. “It’s my birthday. That means no sucking up. It’s another rule.”
Melanie snickers as I grumble, “I’m sick of all these rules. I just vote that we cancel all birthdays altogether.” I pause, considering it. “Except mine, obviously. It’s the most important day, so—”
“Cale,” Oakley says imperiously. “I’m ready.”
I let out an aggrieved sigh. “Fine. But just know that I can’t take this back, so if you don’t like it, you’re shit out of luck.”
Oakley laughs as Melanie drops her head back, staring at the ceiling. “How can I tell my kid not to swear when his stepfather is constantly cursing?”
My stomach warms at that, but I just give her a crooked smile. “He brings out the worst in me, darlin’. It’s not my fault.”
She rolls her eyes. “Go get your present.”
I don’t mess around, finding the placket of papers hidden under my mattress—perils of living with two snoops—and come back out into the living room, finding Melanie sitting next to Oakley, her arm around his shoulders as they snuggle together.
He would usually fight her off, so I don’t know if it’s his birthday or the recent nightmare, but he’s leaning against her, his face soft as she talks to him gently.
“Here we go,” I announce, setting the present on Oakley’s knees. I even taped a gold bow onto it, just to make it a little prettier, but neither of them seems impressed.
“I thought you were going to put it into a box,” Melanie murmurs. “And wrap it.”
I lift a shoulder. “I was, but I figured it was fine on its own. Killer doesn’t mind, right?”
He shakes his head, his attention firmly on opening the seal as carefully as he can, flipping it open, and sliding the sheaf of papers.
“What is this?” he asks quietly, eyes running over the title on the first page—Certificate Of Adoption.
I sit down on the coffee table in front of them, and Melanie reaches out to take one of my hands.
I squeeze her gently, taking strength from her, as I tell Oakley, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.
Honestly, I wanted to do it sooner, but…
” I shrug, confessing, “I chickened out. Not because I didn’t want you, but I wasn’t sure it was something you wanted. ”
The papers are trembling in Oakley’s hands, but he’s not looking at me. “You want to adopt me?” The question is so quiet, I have to lean forward to hear. “You want to be my dad?”
I place my free hand on the papers, blocking his view until he looks up at me.
“I’m already your dad,” I say fiercely. “You have always been mine, Killer. It doesn’t matter that Da—Dipshit”—I correct when he starts to scowl at me—“is your biological father. Blood doesn’t matter as much as what we do have.
” I tap a fist against my chest. “I love you, Killer. Some days, I even love you more than your mom.” Melanie lets out a choked noise, but I don’t look at her when Oakley chuckles wetly.
“So, if you wanted to make it official…Well, I can’t imagine anything that would make me happier. ”
He drops the papers on the ground, lunging forward to wrap his skinny arms around my neck—reminding me of his mom when she accepted my proposal. “I want that,” he whispers in my ear. “I want you to be my dad.”
I sniff as I hug him back, pretending my own eyes aren’t stinging with tears. “Well, I added some papers in the back of that to legally change both you and your mom’s last name to Evans…You know, if you wanted that too.”
Melanie gasps in surprise, but when I finally look at her, she’s got a huge grin on her face, her blue eyes luminous with emotion. Oakley’s nodding against my shoulder. “I want that, too. I don’t want to be a Daniels anymore. It’s a stupid name.”
“And what you asked me earlier? About kids?” He freezes in his arms, barely even breathing as I tell him, “Why would I want another kid when I already have you, Killer? My family is perfect the way it is.” My eyes lock with Melanie’s questioning stare, and I mouth, “Tell you later.”
Oakley pulls back, scrubbing his hands over his face, his chin tipping up. “Our family is perfect,” he agrees, looking over at his mom. “I’m glad that I let you teach me how to mow the lawn.”
I laugh. “Let me teach you, huh? Well, I’m glad I let you win at Mario Kart.”
He gasps in outrage, just as Melanie interjects, “Well, I’ll be glad when people in this house stop stealing my chocolate. Only then will this family be perfect.”
Oakley and I lock eyes, his gleaming with impish mischief. I nod in agreement, and then in unison, we’re jumping for Melanie, tickling the shit out of her as she screeches, laughing manically as she cries for mercy.
“Fine, fine. It’s perfect now!”
“You’d be terrible under torture, darlin’,” I tell Mel, shoving Oakley’s shoulder and pushing him away. He grunts, but I’m ignoring his birthday rule and leaning down to steal another kiss from her breathless lips, tuning out his loud groans.
“I changed my mind!” he yells, jumping up off the couch. “I’m moving in with Nana Bettie. This kissing business is too much. I’m done.”
He stomps off, presumably to find a phone to call my mother. I yell after him, “Just you wait. You know she kisses Pops, right?”