Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Six months later…
Jake
The roof’s fixed. As of now, the front walk’s officially finished. That took longer than anticipated, because Kit wanted cute little cottage garden flagstones and I wanted something we could roll a stroller down. Not that a stroller was necessarily in the cards, but we wanted different things.
Actually, the same, but different.
Kit wants ambiance, atmosphere. She wants it to feel good. I get that. It’s the whole premise behind her restaurant, after all, and the place is magic.
I, on the other hand, want my woman safe. I want the best for her.
So, I talked to a mason and figured out what stones to use and it’s now a cemented flagstone walkway.
“Looks good, man.”
I smile at Travis, who’s now got a whole lot of skin in the game. “Sure does.” I nod. “Thanks for helping out.”
“Wasn’t nothing.”
It was, but I don’t mention that.
I look up at where Ricky and Frank are putting up the porch swing—reinforced for my weight, plus pregnant Kit’s.
Because she is carrying my child.
Our baby.
Fuck me. My heart. My lungs .
Every time I think about it, they go haywire. I can’t breathe. Can’t even see right when the edges of my vision get dark.
“Come on, guys. Let’s go grill.”
We walk around back, Ricky and Frank trailing after us. The whole Parlor crew’s here, plus Yemi’s sister and whoever the hell else people wanted to bring. Riley brought a literal pig from his farm a couple days ago, so we’ve got that roasting in a pit. Annette—the vegan—isn’t happy, but she never seems to be happy unless Frida’s got her wrapped in her arms.
Which I fully understand.
Ricky’s other half, Dolores, comes over and slots a lemonade into my hand, and Kit’s right beside her, giving one to Travis.
You can’t tell there’s a baby in her belly yet, but already that little person’s changed parts of me you can’t see.
“You good?” I ask as she comes over to slide under my arm and let me pull her into my side and kiss her forehead, her cheek, her lemonade-chilled lips. Every kiss is a thing between us, never taken for granted.
“Yeah. Yeah, you?”
“I’m fucking amazing, baby.”
She grins. “Should we tell ’em yet?”
“What, that the random pig roast isn’t just a pig roast?”
“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s do it. You guys! Hey!”
“Hold on. Hold on, baby.” I lift my head. “Trav, get over here, man. We need you with us.”
The kid walks over, head down, shoulders curved forward. He’s taller than anyone else here and he’s only fourteen at this point. Doctor’s got no idea how big he’ll end up being, but I keep saying to Kit it’s a damn good thing she’s got a restaurant, or else our foster kid would eat us out of house and home. As it stands, he’s making a decent dent in the restaurant.
“We got an announcement,” Travis says to the folks who’ve come over today. Frank and Ricky and Dolores and Frida and everybody from the restaurant.
This is my family. My people. This is the life I’m lucky enough to have found.
Travis looks at us with a grin, his face bright red. “They’re having a baby,” he tells the group.
Ricky whoops and takes off his baseball cap, throwing it high.
Dolores giggles as she runs over to hug first Kit and then me. The woman’s a giggler. Five feet nothing, with bright dyed red hair and lots and lots of makeup, high heels and leopard print everything. And she giggles. Constantly. It’s cute, though honestly, I don’t know how Ricky stands it.
Slowly, Frank makes his way down the porch stairs to me. He sticks out his hand and I shake it.
“Congratulations,” he says, low, just for me.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, uncle Frank,” Kit sings as she comes over to accept a hug from him, too. “You better get ready. You are officially our number one babysitter.”
“Not sure I’m babysitter material.”
“You’ll do just fine.”
“I’ll babysit,” says Travis. The kid offers to do everything. All the time.
I share a glance with Kit.
We’ve got to find a way to make him understand he’s not a paying guest here. He’s part of the family.
“Boy or girl?” Ricky asks.
Kit and I share another look, this one lingering. “We don’t want to know.”
“What?” Dolores’s voice goes high, screechy. “How’m I gonna know what color clothes to buy?”
Annette shakes her head.
“Babies care about stuff like that?” Travis, as he so often does, chimes in with just the right answer at the awkward moments.
“No,” says Frida. “No, they really don’t give a crap,” with the same inflection she’d use to tell me her fried oysters were up. She cocks an eyebrow at Dolores, as if to dare her to talk about pink and blue and that other nonsense. “I’d say you’re pretty safe with leopard print.”
Frank snickers and Ricky smacks him on the arm and a smiling Kit turns to look up at me, her eyes all soft and warm and full of love for me and everyone else here.
Family. That’s what this is. The rightness I remember from when I was a kid, the safety in being with those who care.
“How’s it going over at the gym?” asks Ricky, who’s finally rid himself of that responsibility.
“Membership’s up,” says Frank. He’s taken over the apartment and helps me manage the business.
We’ve been working with a local non-profit to make the community service aspect of the place official and suddenly, there’s an influx of interest where for years there wasn’t much.
Yemi’s at the restaurant full time and I help out when I can. I always make sure Kit takes days off.
Then there’s Travis. Our foster kid. I want to adopt him, but this shit takes time. The system, as several of us know, isn’t always easy to navigate.
And his mom’s trying to do right by him. We’ll see what happens. I want the kid happy. It’s all that matters. Maybe he’ll wind up with her. Maybe that’s a good thing.
“We’ve got more news,” I call out, swallowing hard as I turn to look at my woman. “So, the papers came in and…Kit’s divorce is final.”
“We’re getting married!” she squeals, unable to hold out long enough to keep them all in suspense.
Again, Dolores’s reaction’s the biggest and again, the rest of us are laughing at how excited the woman gets. Kit pulls the ring out of her pocket, slips it on, and shows it around. Dolores is too obsessed to let anyone near.
My eyes slide over to catch a look from Frank, a slight nod. He knows exactly what happened that day at the university between me and her ex. I told him the whole goddamn thing. If anything ever happens to me, I know that Frank, beyond a doubt, has my back.
It’s a damn good feeling.
Ricky sidles over. “You asshole.”
“What?”
He punches my arm and pulls a box from his pocket, slaps it into my palm. “Stole my goddamn thunder.”
When I see the diamond in the little blue velvet box, I laugh so hard I’m bent double by the time the others notice.
Everybody stops talking. “What’s his deal?” Annette asks, her voice always good at cutting through all the bullshit.
Frida mutters something about how it’s nonstop with me these days. I’m always giggling (her word) about something.
I open my mouth to call her out, but… The laughing. The happiness?
Man, she’s right.
“Jesus, give me back that thing.” Ricky pulls the box from my hand. “Come here, Dolores.”
As the others follow the action, Kit comes over to wrap her arms around me and give me a kiss.
“I fucking love you,” I mutter against the most precious lips in the world.
“I know you do,” she says, grinning hard.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say to your fiancé.”
“Oh, what am I supposed to say to my fiancé?”
“You say, I love you too, Jake.”
“I love you too, Jake.”
Even though she’s just parroted the sentence, I still feel it, vibrating through me like a wrench to ice cold metal. “So, I made a decision, baby.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not going back out,” I tell her, low and secret and for her ears only. “No more contracts on the rig.”
She goes still. “You sure? It’s a lot of money.”
“I’m selling the houses.”
Her brows go up. She knows those places were my nest egg. My safety net.
“Let’s put an addition on the house.”
“What’ll you do for work?”
“What, cooking for you isn’t enough? And the gym?”
“You’ll be here all the time.”
I nod, put my forehead to hers, and watch her eyes cloud over with emotion.
“That’s the best news. Of all.”
“Better than a baby ? Marriage?”
“Jake Brand, I want you . The rest is just icing.”
“I’m the cake,” I say, with a shit eating grin. “You fuckin’ love cake.”
“Yes, Jake.” Slowly, she nods, leans in and gives me a kiss that is in no way appropriate for this setting. We might have to sneak off somewhere. Soon. “I love cake.”
“And, baby, cake loves you.”
THE END