Epilogue 2 - Luc
FOUR YEARS LATER
Iheard Kylie’s car in the driveway, and Willow rushed to the window to greet her. Our twin girls, Violet and Maya, had just started walking and raced to keep up with their older sister. They stumbled, their chubby legs slower than they wanted.
Last year, Kelsey and I finally convinced Kylie to move outside of the city, and our new home was within a couple of blocks of her sister and their children. Kelsey’s second son was born a few months after Willow, and she had a daughter who was born earlier this summer.
My brother Jack retired the year after I left, which was the year they won the World Series.
Kylie hadn’t been convinced that I was satisfied without a ring, but after edging her for an hour after the game seven victory, I think she was at least sexually satisfied, and promised never to question me again if I let her come.
I found more satisfaction raising my daughters than wrangling ball players.
Jack had also signed on as pitching coach and took my role. With both her sons on the East Coast, my mother followed shortly after. She complained every time it snowed and spent as much time as possible in Destin throughout the winter, but she wouldn’t miss watching her granddaughters grow up.
With a baby in each arm, Kylie smiled and leaned into me.
“How was your day, dear?” As I asked her the same question every night, she still laughed as if it were the first time I’d said it.
“The train was delayed, and I’m starving. Takeout?”
“Nah, I cooked. It’s ready when you are.”
Kylie’s eyes flitted to mine, and I watched as the gears spun. If I had thought I had known my wife before, the connection would have only deepened with time.
“Thank you. But the answer is no, we aren’t having another baby.”
I shrugged and held my hands up in a prayer position. The last pregnancy with the twins had taken a lot out of her. She might be done, and that was fine with me. If she had changed her mind, I would have been down for it, but I already had more than I had ever hoped to have.
“That’s not what I’m getting you prepped and ready for—”
I checked to confirm Willow was out of earshot before I said, “Your new chair arrived.”
Her eyes flashed with interest. We had built our playroom, which was firmly locked to keep the kids out. Hidden behind a wall of books, the room had barometric locks and was locked up tighter than her father’s gun safe.
If I once worried that things would cool off between us, they hadn’t; it had only gotten hotter. We just needed to be more creative.
Our kids would grow up surrounded by love, and we never shied away from showing affection in the house. It wasn’t lost on me that the roles we took in the bedroom were so far from the ones we let the outside world see.
The End