Epilogue
Emma
Six months later
The black walnut bar is warm under my palm, the grain smooth and beautiful in a way that still impresses me every time I run my fingers along it.
Theo spent months finishing this piece after it sat in his garage for years, and now it’s the centerpiece of Harbor & Ash, exactly like he always imagined it would be.
Customers comment on it constantly, the craftsmanship, the way the light catches the natural patterns in the wood, how it makes the whole space feel warmer somehow. Life’s too short to let beautiful things collect dust, I told him once, and he listened.
I’m seven months pregnant now, my belly round and obvious under the soft green dress I’m wearing, and I can’t see my feet anymore when I stand.
Getting out of bed in the morning requires a kind of rolling maneuver that Theo finds hilarious, and I’ve given up on tying my own shoes entirely.
He does it for me every morning without being asked, kneeling at my feet like it’s a privilege instead of a chore.
He can’t stop touching my stomach, talking to the baby, pressing his ear against my belly like he’s going to hear something beyond general gurgling sounds. It’s ridiculous and adorable and I love him for it.
The restaurant is quiet now, the last few customers finishing their meals at tables near the window, the warm glow of the pendant lights casting everything in amber.
I feel full of contentment in a way I didn’t know was possible a year ago, like my life has finally settled into the shape it was always meant to be.
Last night we had a family dinner at our place with Theo’s brothers and their partners.
Calvin and Maren brought appetizers I devoured and wine I watched others enjoy.
Dominic—who Theo describes affectionately as “completely undatable” and “forever single”—came solo and brooded in the way he does.
And Jack and Lark flew in for the week, and I had to physically restrain myself from fangirling too hard when I met her.
Lark Reyes. One of my favorite musicians in my living room eating lasagna I helped make. Well, I watched Theo make it.
The evening was wonderful, Chloe running between all the adults collecting attention and compliments on her new sparkly dress, Theo relaxed and happy in a way I’ve come to treasure.
Now Theo’s in the back kitchen making me a snack with Alex, a craving I mentioned an hour ago that he immediately decided to accommodate, and I stretch in my seat at the bar, sipping my sparkling water and waiting.
The baby shifts inside me, pressing against my ribs in a way that’s uncomfortable but also miraculous.
I still can’t believe there’s a whole person growing in there.
The door opens and I turn to see Victoria and Chloe coming in, Chloe’s hand in her mother’s.
Victoria gives me a small wave and a smile. “Hey, Emma.”
“Emma!” Chloe drops her mom’s hand and runs toward me, and I swivel on my barstool to catch her, scooping her up as best I can with my belly in the way.
“Hey, sweet girl!” I squeeze her tight. “I missed you SO much, you have no idea.”
“I missed you too,” Chloe says into my shoulder. “Mom took me to the aquarium and I saw a giant octopus and it was SO cool, I have to tell Daddy about it, where is he?”
“Kitchen,” I say, setting her down. “Go find him.”
She’s off like a shot, disappearing through the swinging door, and I turn back to Victoria with a smile. She’s watching after Chloe with a soft expression. She moved back to Dark River three months ago, got an apartment near downtown, and she sees Chloe twice a week, more during school breaks.
She’s actually showing up, being consistent, trying to be the mom Chloe deserves.
And she’s been nothing but respectful to me and Theo.
We’re building something that looks like actual co-parenting instead of the mess it could have been.
Six months ago I was convinced I was an obstacle in Chloe’s relationship with her mother.
Now I understand that there’s room for all of us.
“Hey, thanks for the invitation to the barbecue this weekend,” Victoria says, leaning against the bar. “I know you didn’t have to include me. And I recognized your handwriting on the envelope.”
I smile. We’re having a big bash on Saturday, and the whole family plus some people from town and a few of my teacher friends are all coming.
Theo and I have been planning it for weeks, and the menu he and Alex have put together makes my mouth water just thinking about it.
I decided Victoria should be there too, and Theo agreed without hesitation.
“Of course,” I tell her, and I mean it completely. “You’re Chloe’s mom. You’re family. You should be part of things like this.”
Victoria’s smile softens. “I can’t wait. Really.” She glances toward the kitchen door, then back at me. “By the way, Chloe has something she wants to ask you. And just know that you have my blessing.”
I tilt my head, curious. “Mysterious. But I’ll take it.”
Victoria squeezes my shoulder once, a gesture that would have felt impossible six months ago, then calls goodbye to Chloe across the restaurant. Chloe’s head pops out of the kitchen door, gap-toothed grin blazing.
“Love you, Mommy!”
“Love you more, baby girl! Be good!”
The door swings shut behind Victoria, and I’m left wondering what exactly I have her blessing for. Before I can think too much about it, Chloe reappears at my elbow, climbing onto the barstool next to me.
“Can I sit with you?” she asks, even though she’s already settling in, pulling her coloring book out of her backpack and arranging a page on the bar in front of her.
“Always,” I tell her, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair that’s escaped from her braid.
I lean over to look at her drawing more closely. It’s composed of two tall figures holding hands, one shorter figure between them, and a tiny baby shape in the taller figure’s arms. A sun in the corner, a house behind them, a tree with a tire swing. A family portrait.
Oh, my heart.
The restaurant feels different now than it did a year ago, calmer somehow, even when it’s busy. Theo hired a second manager four months ago, finally took his own advice about making space for himself, and now he works reasonable hours.
We spend our evenings together, weekends at the farmers market or hiking the trails near the water, and he’s back to spending time on woodworking projects in the garage.
He’s balanced in a way I’ve never seen him before, still in love with this place, still taking pride in every dish that goes out, but it doesn’t consume him anymore.
He’s content, and watching him find that balance has been one of the best parts of this year.
My phone buzzes on the bar, and I glance down at the screen.
Sophie: Zoom tomorrow at 10 to go over the new literacy module?
I smile and text back a thumbs up. Things with my sisters are good now.
Really good, better than they’ve been since before Mom died.
After we voted to return KidStream to its educational mission, I started consulting remotely on content development.
I review curriculum, join video calls every few weeks, give input on age-appropriate features and learning outcomes.
The company is becoming what Mom and Dad always wanted it to be, a tool that actually helps kids learn instead of just capturing their attention, and I get to be part of that while staying exactly where I belong. In Dark River. Teaching my first graders. Building a life with Theo.
Sloane stayed involved for the first month, then announced she was moving on to launch her own company, something in adult fitness apps where her aggressive approach to engagement metrics might actually be appropriate.
Good. I’ll never tolerate her cruelty again, and I don’t have to.
The twins found their voices. Sophie’s thriving as the new CEO. Our parents would be proud.
“Emma?” Chloe’s voice pulls me back to the present. She’s set down her crayon and she’s looking at me with an expression that’s suddenly serious, her dark eyes searching my face.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“I’ve been thinking about something.” She’s picking at the edge of her coloring page, not quite meeting my eyes. “When the baby comes, she’s gonna call you mom, right?”
My throat tightens unexpectedly. “Well, yeah. Probably. Eventually, when she learns to talk.”
“I was wondering...” Chloe takes a breath, and I watch her gather her courage, this brave little girl who has already dealt with so much.
“Could I call you something special too? Not Mom, because I have a mom. But something that’s just for us.
” She pauses, still not looking up, her small fingers worrying at the paper. “Like Emmy-Mama?”
She finally lifts her eyes to mine, worried and hopeful all at once.
“I asked my mom and she said it was okay,” she adds quickly. “She said I should ask you.”
My eyes fill with tears immediately, helplessly, and I pull Chloe into a hug before I can even think about what I’m doing. I hold her tight against my chest, this incredible kid who I love as fiercely and completely as I’m going to love the baby currently doing somersaults in my belly.
“I would love that,” I manage. “Whatever you want to call me, Chloe. I’d be honored.”
Chloe burrows into me, her small body relaxing with relief. “Really?”
“Really. So much.”
“Can it be Emmy-Mama?” she asks into my shoulder, her voice muffled against my dress. “Because that’s what I want to call you. I’ve been practicing it in my head and it sounds really good.”
I’m crying now, can’t help it, tears sliding down my cheeks. Pregnancy hormones make everything more emotional, but this would wreck me regardless. “Yes,” I tell her, pulling back so I can see her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Emmy-Mama is perfect. It’s absolutely perfect.”