Epilogue
Willow
Tanya dabs a tissue at her still watering eyes and says, “I cannot believe she is already old enough to get married.”
I look out at the dance floor, where my eldest daughter and Gunnar are dancing to My Little Girl by Tim McGraw. Lynn is twenty-four and the picture of feminine beauty. With her father’s hair and golden skin but my facial features and build, she drove all the boys in high school crazy and continued to do the same in college. Unlike her younger sister, she didn’t seem to notice. Her focus was on education and then her career. That all changed the day she met her husband, falling quickly and even more deeply than she thought was possible.
“You? What do you think I’m feeling?” I whisper, taking the tissue Hadley is handing me. “It seems just yesterday she was starting kindergarten.”
Hadley raises a hand and motions to where her youngest son is talking to one of the wait staff. “Consider yourself lucky. At least you got to enjoy her wedding. My boys go through women so fast, I’ll never get to see any of them married.”
Her and Tucker’s three sons go from woman to woman, none of them sticking around long enough for any of us to even remember their names. Half the time, I doubt the boys even ask their names. Tanya’s only child, Kyle, is the same, much to her disappointment. Then again, so is my eldest son, and I’m sure my youngest will be the same in a few years. Like their fathers and uncles, they have the kind of looks and charisma that have women throwing themselves at them and feeling lucky for any attention they get.
“Sooner or later, they’ll meet their one,” I say, looking to Hadley then over to Tanya. “They’re Brady men. You know it will happen. Hell, our men were like that, too, and look at them now.”
My best friends and sisters-in-law nod their heads in unison, but neither say a word. Instead, they watch as my husband and daughter dance, love filling their eyes. Even after all these years, we are still as close as ever, maybe even closer. We’ve shared our lives, the good and the bad, with each other, and I thank God every day they are by my side.
Finally, the song ends, sending my husband my way. He reaches the table just as Major and Tucker pull their wives from their seats and lead them to the dance floor. Gunnar motions in their direction, toward the dance floor, but I simply shake my head no. He takes a seat next to mine and drops his arm over the back of my chair.
“You don’t want to dance?” he asks, leaning toward me and brushing his lips over my cheek.
“Not right now. I just want to sit here with you,” I reply, leaning my head on his shoulder.
My eyes go back to the dance floor, and I spend the next few minutes watching our daughter’s new husband dance with her. As I stare at them, I have to wonder if they will have as good of a life as we did. Will this man make my little girl as happy as her father has made me? I know the answer, without a doubt. He will, or Gunnar will make him.
Continuing to watch as our daughter dances with her new husband, I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Gunnar wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer. “Of course, she is. She looks just like her mother. Pretty as a picture. I sure was lucky the day you came into my life.”
I stare up into his beautiful blue eyes and remember back to our own wedding. It wasn’t near as lavish as this, but beautiful just the same. We were married on the steps of the house Gunnar built, the house we still call home. Only our closest friends and family were there. There was no band, no elaborate dress, not a tux in sight. We had a cookout afterwards and a cake that Tanya’s mom made for us. What it was, was absolutely perfect.
“I happen to think she looks a lot like her father. She definitely acts like you,” I say, placing a kiss on his lips.
Growling, he pulls me even closer and deepens the kiss. Just as a tingle starts to work its way to my core, a gagging sound comes from our left. Jerking away from my husband, I look to the side and see our eleven-year-old son standing there, shaking his head.
“That is so gross,” he grumbles, looking a little green. “I don’t know why you have to be kissing all the time.”
Chase was our surprise baby, more than ten years younger than his three siblings. Being nearly forty, I was more than a bit nervous about having another baby, but with Gunnar by my side, everything fell into place perfectly. We found the same enjoyment with our youngest as we did the three before. In the end, he seemed to be the missing part to our family that we didn’t even realize we needed.
“You’ll know when you get a little older,” Quinn, our eldest, says, as he walks up to the table and musses his brother’s hair.
“Whatever,” Chase mumbles, running off to chase after his friends.
I watch him go then turn to Quinn and shoot him a smile. “Have you danced with your sister yet?”
Quinn, at twenty-six, looks nearly identical to his father. He has the same build, same facial features, and only the deep auburn of his hair and his rambunctious personality come from me. Like me, he is easy to anger but even easier to smile. Opting out of college, he helps his father, uncles, and cousins run the farm. The rest of his time is spent in the pursuit of women, the easier the better, proving he is a Brady to the bone.
“Not this sister,” my youngest daughter says as she walks over and bumps her shoulder into her brother’s arm. “He says he’s too afraid I’ll stomp on his feet.”
Mazie, at twenty-two, is still in college, pursing a degree in veterinary medicine. She is not quite as focused as her sister was, opting to spend much of her time with her friends and boyfriend of the month. Still, she ends up on the dean’s list every semester.
I smile at my children, wishing they were still young and needed me on a daily basis. Instead, they have their own homes, their own lives, and no longer need their mother to take care of them. Still, I am proud of the adults they’ve become and feel so blessed to have had the pleasure of being their mother. I can only hope that Chase grows up to be just like them.
“Come on, Mazie, I’ll let you stomp on my feet, just don’t scuff up my shoes,” Quinn says, grabbing his sister’s hand and pulling her out to the dance floor.
I watch for a minute as they twirl away then turn back to Gunnar. “Thank you.”
“Huh?” he mumbles, blinking in confusion. “What for?”
Motioning out to the dance floor then across the room to where Chase is stuffing his face full of cake, I tell him, “For loving me and giving me a beautiful family.”
“No thanks necessary.” He pulls me back into his arms and whispers, “But if you still want to thank me, we could always find a closet to sneak off to.”
Smiling, I lean closer and place a kiss on his lips. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
The End