Epilogue

“Scott, I want you to finish your math homework before we go to see your uncle and aunt and the new baby this afternoon,” Barbara said sternly from her place at the sink. “And no lame excuses, young man.”

“But I have to practice for my next soccer game,” the eight-year-old protested promptly. His blond head was bent sleepily over a bowl of Cap’n Crunch, and he was making a face that suggested he’d just heard he had to go through something akin to the Passion of the Christ. “We’re playing Grearson this Sunday …”

“The only thing you need to do is practice long division, because you have a test next Friday. Or do you want to be the one to tell Grandma when you fail math?”

“I won’t fail,” Scott replied, his confidence far too high for a kid whose math grades were a disaster. “Plus, I’m pretty sure David Beckham was never good at math either.”

Barbara stopped cutting carrots, turned her eyes toward the ceiling, and started counting to ten in her head. As proud as she was of her energetic son, he could be annoyingly obstinate when it came to his passion. Which was soccer, not math, unfortunately.

“Good morning, everyone.” James appeared behind Barbara and patted her on her backside while pressing a kiss to her cheek and snuggling up to her for a brief moment.

“Good morning,” Barbara replied with a smile as she leaned into him, watching good-naturedly as he grabbed one of the peeled carrots and took a large bite.

“Did you all sleep well?” he asked as he chewed. Only a few minutes ago, she’d playfully struggled to escape this man as he’d tried to pull her into the shower with him. As tempting as the sight of his naked body under the rushing spray of water had been, Barbara had instead hurried downstairs to fix breakfast and prepare the boys’ school lunches. The usual morning chaos kept thwarting their long showers and spontaneous morning sex. Thankfully, the nights were much more relaxed, with no interruptions to embarrass them.

“Dad, can you please explain to Mom how important practicing is in soccer? She’s a girl and doesn’t understand!”

Barbara gasped in outrage, turning her head with a jerk and glaring at Scott, who returned her look with a cocky grin. Apparently, James thought his son’s comment was hilarious, for he almost choked on his carrot and started coughing.

Before Barbara could throw him a withering glance, he saved her honor by declaring, “Actually, champ, your mom is the coolest girl you’ll ever meet.”

“But she still doesn’t know much about soccer,” Scott countered as nonchalantly as if he were a sportscaster with a national show.

“Well, he’s not completely wrong there,” James murmured into Barbara’s ear like the traitor he was. Then he gave her one last loving pat on her butt and turned to the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup.

Barbara snorted and narrowed her eyes at him before turning on their son. “Since I don’t know much about soccer, I won’t be washing any more muddy jerseys for a while, buddy. And you will do your math homework, otherwise you’re not coming with us to go visit Uncle Patrick and Aunt Amy.”

“Dad!” Scott immediately appealed to the saner parent, whining in despair. “I need to practice!”

“Listen to your mom,” James said with infinite patience as he returned the coffee pot to its plate. “And don’t think I forgot that you and I have a date to study multiplication tonight, champ.”

Miraculously, Scott didn’t protest but instead stared into his cereal bowl with an expression of quiet resignation. It was all Barbara could do not to grin.

She slowly returned her gaze to James, who was standing, sipping his coffee, across from her at the kitchen counter, looking over at Scott. She smiled as she studied his profile and mulled over the fact that it had now been over a year since they’d made up. James had moved back in with them and sold his house almost immediately. Although, in the beginning, Barbara had been worried that it might be awkward to live all together again after two years of separation, it had felt as if nothing had ever happened.

By now, it was hard to imagine that they’d ever been separated.

The only thing that had changed was Barbara’s routine, for she’d restarted the practical part of her education. She was doing her residency in the psychotherapeutic ward of a local hospital.

Her life was wonderfully busy, and she felt ready to explode with happiness.

They also had a dog now, though at first Barbara had been against getting one. But she was outvoted three to one by the men in the house on a trip to Canada over the boys’ summer break. They’d discovered a puppy at a remote gas station in the backcountry, and the owner didn’t want to keep it. They’d quickly decided they’d adopt the yellow lab puppy, who they named Cooper, and who loved to chew on Barbara’s shoes and slept in Hamilton’s bed.

Hamilton was also the one who got up early every morning to walk Cooper before he went to school. In fact, Barbara had just started to wonder where the two of them were when the energetic puppy bolted into the house and came running into the kitchen, barking excitedly as he greeted the rest of the family. Hamilton followed close behind, as merry and bouncy as the Labrador.

Her ten-year-old gave her a cheerful wink, gave his dad a boisterous high-five, and then grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl before dropping into a chair. “Cooper sat down when I told him to, Mom! We’re still working on lying down, though.”

Seeing her boy’s beaming face, she knew taking the rascally fleabag of a puppy home with them had been the right decision, even if the dog had already chewed on virtually every piece of furniture in the house.

“Can we take Cooper with us to visit Uncle Patrick?” Hamilton asked.

“Yeah, Mom, can we?” Scott chimed, excitedly looking up from his cereal.

“Ask your dad,” she said quickly.

James rolled his eyes and then gave her the side-eye. “Thanks a lot, honey.”

“You’re welcome,” she shot back as she resumed preparing the healthy snack she packed for her boys’ lunches.

“No, we’re leaving Cooper here today—”

“But then he’ll destroy all my comics,” Scott cried, horrified. His reaction elicited a soft giggle from Barbara, because this apocalyptic prospect was entirely possible.

Hamilton reacted to his brother’s worry with an irritated sigh. “Then close your door or clean up your room.”

Another giggle from Barbara.

James cleared his throat and pinched her lightly on the backside. “Seriously, boys. We’re going there to meet Baby Abigail. She’s only a few days old. A puppy wouldn’t be welcome. Cooper has to stay home this time. It’ll make it a lot less stressful for all of us.”

Baby Abigail was the newest member of the Ashcroft family, and Barbara had actually been present during her sudden birth. She’d driven her sister-in-law to the hospital and held her hand in the delivery room while Patrick had only arrived after the chubby baby girl had been born. The little dark-haired baby had been a major surprise from the start—Patrick and Amy hadn’t planned on getting pregnant again so soon after the twins were born—but her brief labor and swift birth had come as an extra surprise the parents had not expected so soon.

What had not been so unexpected was the fact that Amy had wanted Barbara to stay with her in the delivery room. Because the two of them had finally become close friends over the last twelve months. Fortunately, Barbara had realized—late, but not too late—that her mom had been right: People did make mistakes, but the important part was how they dealt with them afterwards.

“Alright, we’re leaving Cooper here,” Hamilton agreed, but he stuck out his chin in a way that was strikingly similar to his dad’s habit. “But that means we have to take another long walk before we leave for Uncle Patrick’s.”

“We’ll do that, big guy.” James lowered his coffee cup and poked Barbara lightly in the ribs. “When will you be home today, honey? Do you want me to walk Cooper when I get home?”

“That would be great,” she replied gratefully and pushed back an unruly strand of his hair. “I need to drop by the exam committee this afternoon and hand in my registration documents.”

His proud smile made her heart beat faster. “Anything you say, Dr. Ashcroft.”

She giggled and pressed her nose against his. “Thank you, Mr. Campbell. Too kind of you.”

While they flirted and nestled against one another, Scott grumbled loudly, “I don’t like this!”

“If you don’t like me kissing your mother, close your eyes or look away,” James said, one arm around Barbara’s shoulder to hold her close.

Scott snorted. “You’re always kissing Mom!” he complained darkly. “I couldn’t close my eyes that often!”

“What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about us kissing?”

Scott knit his brows until they almost met. “I think it’s dumb that Mom has a different last name. Couldn’t you guys get married again, so we’re all Campbells?”

Barbara froze and looked at her sons in surprise. They were both nodding. “What?”

Hamilton seemed thrilled with the idea, too. “Yeah, get married already.” Sounding like a world-wise grandfather, he added with a frustrated sigh, “This is just getting silly.”

Barbara’s eyes widened, and she didn’t know whether to feel touched or annoyed by that statement.

“You think your parents are silly? Why?” James asked with genuine interest.

Hamilton looked at them with a serious expression. “It’s silly that you won’t get married when everybody can see that you love each other.”

James reacted to his son’s wise words by pulling Barbara into an embrace. The past year had actually been so amazing that neither of them had thought about a second wedding—after all, everything was perfect the way it was.

“Well …” He cocked his head to one side and gave her a questioning look, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “If this is our sons’ most pressing wish …”

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze pressing him to go on.

“Then we should get married, don’t you think?”

Barbara wrinkled her nose in mock disdain. “If that was supposed to be a proposal, you should go read a book on romantic gestures.”

“Oh, come on, I tried to be romantic this morning in the shower, but you had no time for me then,” he murmured, giving her an impish wink, before taking her hand in his and kissing it. Then he grew more serious. “Barbara Gabriella Ashcroft, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Again?”

Her eyes began to water, and she trembled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Do you really have to ask?”

Barbara ignored the fake retching sound that came from Scott and the ensuing bark from Cooper. This moment could not have been any more perfect than it was.