Epilogue
Five years later.
It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a soul was stirring.
Except for Cooper Evans, of course.
“I’ll get him!” Karen cried, jumping up from her seat at the kitchen island. Cooper had been put to bed hours earlier, but now his cries rang out from the baby monitor on the counter.
“Are you sure?” Cash asked. “I can get him.”
“No, no. You keep Bailey company. I’ll sort him out.” Karen bustled off out of the room, leaving Cash and Bailey alone in the kitchen.
Theirs was a big family now. Someone could walk in at any moment.
Which, in Cash’s mind, meant he’d better go and pester his wife quickly, before anyone came to interrupt.
She stood with her back to him, slicing up vegetables for tomorrow as though nothing was amiss. But he knew this woman. The set of her shoulders, the angle of those lush hips, told him that she was waiting. Waiting, probably with a smile on her sweet lips, for his touch.
Well, he wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now, would he?
Crossing the tiled floor in a few short strides, Cash slid his arms around his wife’s waist, resting his hands on the swell of life that was her rounded belly. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her neck, smiled as she lay down her knife and sank into him.
“Hello, Doctor Evans,” he murmured.
“Not yet,” she said softly. “Don’t jinx me.” But there was laughter in her voice.
“You know it’s in the bag. Just like your Master’s was.” He rubbed his palm over her stomach, cradled the precious bump. Kissed her neck, then bit gently as she arched into him.
Karen’s voice came through the monitor, strident as always. “Cooper!” She was cooing. “Shhh, now.”
“No!” The toddler cried, loud enough to rival his grandmother. “Want Daddy!”
“Your son calls,” Bailey chuckled.
Cash rolled his eyes. “With any luck, this next one will attach herself to you.” But his smile was wide and his heart was full. Cash was his son’s favourite person in the world. It made him positively faint with pride.
And with gratitude. Bailey had given him this. Bailey had given him love.
“I believe she’ll be a daddy’s girl, actually,” his wife called after him. “Then you’ll have another shadow to trail your every move.”
Cash shook his head fondly as he left the kitchen, Bailey’s laughter chasing after him.
He came across John’s daughters on the stairs, playing a game that involved decapitated Bratz dolls and, it seemed, tragic falls to the death. Cash watched as one doll pushed another savagely down the steps, cackling her triumph in a little girl’s voice.
“Shouldn’t you girls be in bed?” He asked finally. The eldest, Magda, paused her doll’s vengeful monologue to give him a pitying look.
“No, Uncle Cash. I’m ten now, remember?”
He looked at the younger girl, Alice. She avoided his gaze. “And what about your sister?” He pushed.
“Um…”
“To bed. Or I’ll tell your fathers.”
“Uncle Cash!” Their voices rang out in unison. Four eyes—one pair blue, one pair dark as ink—turned on him in frustration.
“Take Alice back to bed, Mags. You know the rules.”
“Ugh!” Magda cried. But she collected the dolls, along with her six-year-old sister, and they stormed off to their shared room.
Cash continued up the stairs, then ascended the next flight. There he found John, leaning against the bannister with a smirk.
“You knew they were up?” Cash asked.
“Just noticed. But it’s so much easier to let you get on their bad side.”
Cash rolled his eyes. “Did Pete know you were such a pushover when he agreed to the whole parenting thing?”
“Of course not. It’s my most closely-guarded secret.”
Cash chuckled as he left his friend behind, single-minded in his quest to reach Cooper. From the moment John had met his little girls, he’d become a soft, mushy pudding of a man.
But then again, Cash thought as he pushed open the door to his son’s room, John wasn’t the only one.
“Hey, little man,” Cash murmured, rushing forward to relieve his mother of her snotty, crying load. “What’s up with you?” He cradled the two-year-old in his arms, and the boy’s sobbing instantly slowed.
“I don’t know why I bother,” Karen griped. But there was a tender smile on her face.
Cash bent down to kiss her soft cheek. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Of course, my darling. Oh, I do love having you all here.” A tear slid down her face, and she wiped it away impatiently. “All the children. We’ve so many now! And George and Monroe, and John and Pete, and—“ Her voice cracked, but she soldiered on. “And you and Bailey! Oh, Cashew Nut, I’m so proud of you.”
His face heating up, Cash pulled his mother into a hug. Cooper, now babbling contentedly to himself, patted her head with his clumsy, chubby palm. “Ganma!” He beamed, snot still bubbling from his nose. “Love Ganma.”
She chuckled through her tears, kissing the toddler’s damp face. “I love you too, little muffin.”
And Cash pressed a kiss to his mother’s ginger head, and then to his son’s dark curls. Contentment washed over him, bright and pure as the moonlight. In this little room, silence reigned, and he allowed himself to enjoy it. There were no whispers to threaten his fulfilment; no uninvited thoughts taking up space inside his mind. Some days there would be, sure—but when those days came, he had someone to face them with. Someone to hold his hand and chase away his fear. Someone to love him anyway.
Cash held his mother and his son in his arms, filled with gratitude. Around them, the house sank into the quiet excitement of Christmas Eve like a baby sinks into a crib.
A house that was full of the very love he thought he’d never have.
∞∞∞
Downstairs, the woman who’d given it to him sat at the kitchen island, holding the baby monitor with a smile on her face. She pressed a palm to her swollen stomach—
And then, beneath her hand, their daughter kicked.
“Patience, sweetheart,” Bailey murmured. “Next year, you’ll be here to join in.”
The baby kicked again, as though expressing her eagerness. Bailey smiled as she felt tiny feet pressing against her, a firm declaration: I am here, and I won’t be ignored! This child took after her grandmother, it seemed.
Both grandmothers.
The thought of her mother no longer disturbed Bailey’s equilibrium. Instead of resentment, she thought only of fond memories; of Dorothy applying her own ruby-red lipstick to Bailey’s little face; of the two of them watching Disney films on a Sunday night, throwing popcorn at each other when the other wasn’t looking.
She rose from her seat and went back to the chopping board with a smile on her face. As she sliced up carrots and parsnips for the next day’s feast, Bailey reflected on the miracle Cash had brought into her life.
Peace.
The very best gift of all.
The End.