A lot of people think I gave up way more to be with Cap than he did for me. Those people have never seen him continually banging his head in our RV during my family’s traditional summer road trips. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken something from the repeated impacts. I guess Cap’s skull really is indestructible.
Even before Cap and I join the road trips, I start building better relationships with my siblings.
When Lily visits White Horse, we go to the local farmer’s market and eat at vegan restaurants since she’s going through a vegetarian phase.
When Colton visits, I take him to a bar called Salty Peanuts in nearby Hickory Creek Township. My brother loves brawling with the bikers in the Serrated Brotherhood club. If he pisses off anyone too severely, Cap is nearby to remind the local assholes how there are deadly repercussions to fucking up Colton Johansson.
When Rando visits, we drive into Nashville to visit the zoo. My sister can spend the entire day looking at animals, and she takes to teaching Keith about them once he’s old enough to understand her babble.
Cap is always cool with my parents, siblings, cousins, or the many Reapers’ kids showing up to crash in our guest room. He even adds a casita to our future house’s design. We aren’t in any hurry to leave the contemporary, but we’ll need more space before we can have another kid, so the plans are drawn up, and the property prepared.
I stop working at the Kitchenette when Keith is born, only returning for a few part-time shifts when he’s old enough to hang out with Meemaw. It’s Candy who gives me the idea to do more than sling coffee.
“You grew up seeing your father multitask the family’s and club’s businesses,” she says one day while we’re on her back deck and Keith sleeps inside. “You know how things need to be run. I don’t doubt the Reapers are a male-dominated organization, but we clearly aren’t. You married into a family with dozens of businesses and partnerships in need of managing. I hope one day you’ll think bigger for yourself and use the skills you picked up in Ellsberg to help us run White Horse.”
So touched by her trust in me that I nearly start crying. She senses where my mood has gone and quickly changes the subject to when I’m giving her another grandchild. Nothing sours my good mood like pressure to have a baby. I swear Candy plays me as well as her son does.
Though the semi-retired Hayes never goes puppeteer on me, we do find a common interest. Doomsday prepping! Back when I was still living at his house, he showed me the underground bunker. I remember thinking he was nuts. Then we went over the communication, filtration, and security systems. Soon, I was fascinated by the many possible societal breakdown scenarios he suggested.
“If shit goes sideways, don’t waste time trying to save anyone. Just get yourself and your kids into one of the bunkers. It sounds cold, but I’ve warned Cricket if she’s in West Virginia when the world goes to hell, she’s on her fucking own.”
Of course, since then, Hayes built a house in Rawkfist, West Virginia, and installed a bunker big enough for the family along with Poet’s family. Hell, the bunker is bigger than the main house.
I make it my mission to convince Pop to build a bunker behind his property. He originally looks at me in the same way I did Hayes, but I explain how if something goes wrong that he’ll want his family to be safe.
“Besides, just think of how jealous the other guys will be when they see your badass bunker,” I say, nudging him during a visit.
Pop finally agrees, though initially only because I wear him down with my end-of-the-world scenarios. What if the bombs drop, Pop? What if the electrical grid goes down, Pop? What if a mass-extinction event occurs, leaving the world in chaos, Pop?
We work together on the design, and I drive up nearly every weekend to help him oversee the building process. Like when we bonded building my El Camino, Pop and I are never closer than after we finish his fancy bunker.
“It’s a lot of money to spend over something that might never be needed,” he says when we stand inside the completed project.
“Think of it this way, say one day you want to get away from Colton or Rando or even Gram, now you and Mom can hide down here. With supplies, you could hold out for months. Can make it a romantic backyard vacation.”
Pop laughs at the thought of him retreating to the bunker to avoid his kids, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use my idea sooner rather than later. A house full of adult children must cause havoc on the sex life.
After I successfully design Pop’s bunker, Cap puts me in charge of ours during the building process of our new house on a few acres of land near his siblings and parents.
“I never would have guessed Pip would become a prepper,” he teases when I show him my designs.
“Like Hayes says, you can never underestimate humanity’s willingness to self-destruct.”
“Is it weird that I think you’re hot when you sound like my dad?”
“Only if it’s weird that I think you’re hot when you RV like my dad.”
“Then, yeah, it’s weird.”
Cap gets the hang of RVing despite the size issues. We first join my family on their summer tour when Keith is two. A year later during our second RV trip—this time to Canada—Cap and I talk about having a second baby. The following summer—while in Oregon—we actually start trying for our second kid. Holly is born just in time to RV with us to Maine.
My daughter isn’t so different than her brother. They’re both calm babies who grow into giant toddlers. I see a lot of me in them until they reach four. Suddenly, they’re larger than the kids their age. Their cocky smiles kick in, and I swear they learn to swagger all on their own.
Our youngest daughter Bonnie—a name meaning charming and beautiful that her peepaw picks when we can’t come up with anything—is the most chill of all three. She does inherit the Hayes family’s snark. Her first word is “what” delivered with an annoyed expression. Before her second birthday, Cap is teaching her to perfect an eye roll. I warn him we’ll be in a world of pain when she hits puberty, but he only reminds me how much he loves a feisty girl with a big set of balls.
Laughing, I suggest we buy her brass knuckles when she gets older. That way, she can back up her big mouth with a solid right hook. The way Cap’s eyes light up at the thought of his daughter kicking ass is more than enough proof that I picked the right man to spend the rest of my life with.
THE END