Epilogue
Three years later…
I groan in discomfort from my spot on the porch swing.
No one should have to be pregnant in the summer time. That should be a law. It should be illegal to make someone suffer like this. How is it even possible for the human body to get this hot? I’m pretty sure I could roast hot dogs between my thighs and still risk burning them.
Ford rushes up the stairs with our toddler, our blue heeler puppy, and our hog on his tail. He crashes into the open space beside me with a heavy thud, completely breathless. Clint excitedly bumps into his leg and falls flat onto his butt. Unlike a normal two-year-old who might fake cry for more attention he bursts into a fit of laughter identical to his father’s.
I’m lucky and not just because I married an incredible man and into an incredible family, but because he gave me the most precious baby boy in the entire world. Much like the two of us, he’s rarely unhappy. Typically, as long as he has his dog on one side and his hog on the other, he is in heaven. Again. Much like his father.
I give the muddy entourage a shake of my head. “Did you all have fun?”
“We did,” Ford says, draping his arm around the back of the seat. “Now we think it would be a great idea for mommy to put on her swimsuit so we can go swimming with our cousins and have an ice cream party at Mimi and Papi’s.”
“Swimming!” Clint squeals seconds before Blue begins licking his cheek.
We chuckle together and afterward I give Ford a suspicious look. “This ice cream party is children only, isn’t it?”
“Yeah!” Our son screams now nuzzling Princess Pinky. “No bown upts amowed!”
His answer grows a familiar gleam in Ford’s beautiful eyes. The same striking green ones he gave to our son and most likely the little girl waiting to join us in a few months. His genetics are impressively dominant. While Clint, named after his favorite cowboy star of course, has a head full of thick curly hair like me, his facial features are all Shaw as are his ceaselessly happy eyes. A little before our one-year anniversary, Ford asked me to marry him and I confessed I was probably pregnant. The entire exchange was unusual, but I’ve come to appreciate how it’s our thing. Nothing about us is conventional. Even now. Between my job downtown and his necessity to be closer to the expanding brewery we still managed to mix it up. We moved out of the apartment to have one more accommodating for an active tot and two pets, and more frequent visits from my parents who are thrilled to be grandparents. We still spend many nights there watching old westerns together or taking walks around the busy streets. Clint’s love of playing cowboys is equal to his love of drawing the cartoons he sees on T.V. Somehow our first born became the mesh up of us with a small spin neither of us saw coming. He has an obsession with wanting to build things. Needless to say both the apartment and the house have blocks stashed all around them. Eddie jokes he’s going to follow in his footsteps. I honestly don’t care what he wants to do as long as he ends up happy. Just like us.
“Farm Boy…” I lower my voice.
He gives my shoulder a subtle touch. “Yeah, Darlin’?”
“What are the grownups supposed to do while the kids are getting a sugar high?”
“Sugar high accompanied with more time in the yard, pizza for dinner, and a cowboy movie sleepover.”
“Bang! Bang!” Clint pretends to shoot both of the pets who to no surprise dramatically fall over.
It took many treats for both of them to learn that trick, but it’s absolutely his favorite.
“Uh-huh…”
His expression grows more devious.
“And we’re going to…”
“Well you and I are gonna make sure all computers are shut down. All cell phones are turned off and then…” He lets his gaze drop to my lips. “We’ll think of something…”
We are constantly working. The game I helped design launched spectacularly. Not only did it break their previous company records for console, but for pre-orders on the PC when I encouraged them to add an incentive of exclusive DLC. As much fun as I had, the responsibility was overwhelming and not what I wanted in the long run I realized. I’m content just drawing graphics. While I went against having my fingers in so many pies, I did take my husband and Camilla’s suggestion by trying to bring more diversity to the characters. So far, Bart and Buddy haven’t objected and sales don’t seem to loathe the change. Thankfully, they let me work from home more often than not, which allows for more time with Clint and requires him to spend less at preschool. Ford, on the other hand, struggles more often to balance working in the office and working from home. Runt’s Beer is now in state liquor stores, local bars, big and small, as well as a few chain restaurants around the country, requiring more of his presence at the brewery than it used to. With its convenient location close to the property, we do our best to accommodate him. Sometimes it’s obvious he hates the work load and hates how he can’t play all day with the two of us, but the sense of pride he receives from following his dreams and allowing his young son to see him do it eases the woe I like to believe.
The sound of trucks hitting gravel grabs all of our attention. Seeing his uncle’s vehicles pull onto the property prompts Clint to clap his hands for joy.
My eyes meet Ford’s and I can’t help but give into the predatory look.
He’s going to get his way. It doesn’t matter that I should actually take the time to catch up on work or return the emails I’ve been avoiding all day. He’s going to win because that’s what he does. He wins me over every time. It started with sharing the pig and hasn’t stopped since. Honestly? I hope it never does. Of course there’s compromise. We always make sure we’re both happy with whatever happens or with whatever gets decided, but it typically starts and ends with a Ford Shaw smile. I’ve come to realize…all the moments I love most in life usually do.
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