Epilogue
RIGGS
THREE YEARS LATER
Iblow my whistle to end the drill, giving the team a chance to grab some water and catch their breath.
It’s my first year as the head assistant to my uncle at CTU, and this team is starting to show something special.
They have the competitive fire we had just a few years ago when we brought the title home.
I look over to see that Jake is on the phone. He never has it out during practice, and that makes me tense and grab mine out of my pocket. I see about ten missed calls and multiple texts. Before I have time to respond, Jake approaches me.
“Riggs, you need to get to the hospital. I will take over the practice. Leave, now!”
The words register a second later, and I sprint to my office to grab my keys. I get to my car, buckle up, and peel out of the parking lot. My head is swimming, and my heart is racing. I quickly dial Jordan, knowing he will be there until I can.
“Riggs. Please tell me you’re on your way,” my best friend and brother-in-law pleads.
“I’m on my way. Are you with her?” Jordan’s family lives down the road from us, and I have never been more grateful for that.
“Of course. We just got here, and I will meet you in the waiting room. Prepare yourself, man.” My stomach is in knots hearing that, and I drive as fast as I can until I pull into the parking lot.
Running in, I quickly find Jordan, and he pulls me in for a hug. My emotions stir, and I take a deep breath so I can compose myself before I see my wife.
I make it to the doorway of the room and blow out a breath before entering.
“Sunshine.” One word, and tears are falling down her cheeks.
“Hey, Point Guard. You’re here.”
Rushing over, I sit beside her and press a kiss to her lips. Then I place my hand on her stomach. “Hey, little one, today is the day we finally get to meet you.”
I feel like I can breathe now that I am here and have seen her. We chose to be surprised and not find out the gender during pregnancy. I’m excited to find out if we’ll have a little boy or a little girl.
Not long after I arrive, the nurse and doctor encourage Reagan to push.
I squeeze her hand and kiss her forehead, which is slick with sweat. “You got this, Sunshine. Our baby is almost here. You are doing so well.”
My beautiful, brave girl gives it her all, and the next sound I hear is the shrill cry of my child. “It’s a boy!” one of the nurses calls out, and I am sobbing as I watch them place my son on his mother’s chest.
A few hours later, I’m looking down at my baby boy, wrapped in a blanket, his dark hair peeking out of the blue and orange CTU hat on his head. He is perfect. My eyes go to my snoring wife, still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
I send up a silent prayer, thinking of my dad, grateful for the life I have been given. I wish he were here to hold my son, teach him to dribble and shoot a basketball like he did for me.
A small cry comes from the sleeping baby in my arms, and I stand rocking him back and forth. “Hey, buddy, it’s your daddy. I’m here.” He quickly settles back to sleep, and I sit down in the chair beside Reagan.
“Point Guard, we need to give him a name,” Reagan says. We had a list when we came to the hospital, but none have felt like the right fit.
“Did you think of one?” I ask.
“I think we should name him Joel, after your dad.” Looking up, I see tears in my wife’s eyes and then realize I have them rolling down my cheeks.
“Reagan, it’s perfect.” This incredible woman. My woman. I am in awe of her. “Joel Everett Hart,” I finally say. “After both of his grandfathers, men he can always look up to.”
My wife and I are both smiling and crying. I go and sit on the bed, next to her, with Joel snuggled between us.
We decided to wait until we got home before we had guests over, and our parents are at the top of the list. When Mom, Everett, and Paige get to our house, Reagan places him in my mother’s arms first.
“Hello, sweet boy. I’m your Grandma Hart.
You are so precious.” Bringing her eyes to us for a moment, she asks the question everyone wants to know the answer to.
“Have you two finally decided on a name?” Without waiting for a response, Mom looks back, smiling down at her first grandbaby.
A wave of grief hits, reminding me that my dad won’t ever have the privilege of holding his grandchildren.
Reagan sees my sadness and decides to answer. “We have. His name is Joel Everett Hart, after his two incredible grandfathers.” My mom looks at me, and tears are shining in her eyes. Everett grabs Reagan and hugs her to him, whispering something in her ear. Paige hugs me, and now we are all crying.
“He is perfect,” Mom says and hands him off to Paige and Everett. Then she grabs me in a hug. “Riggs Hart, I am so proud of you, and I know your dad is too.”
“Thanks, Mom. I miss him today.” This morning, knowing all the grandparents were going to meet my son, I pulled out the letter box from my closet, finding the one marked “When you become a dad”.
My father left me with the words I know he would have spoken to me if he were here today.
I also saw a note for his first grandson, which I'll share with Joel when he is a little older.
As I look around the room, I send up a silent thank-you to my dad. Despite the grief, pain, and sadness that initially brought me to CTU, it has ultimately been love and a future filled with joy that awaits me. It’s all because of him.
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