EPILOGUE
Six years later
I STARE AT my name on the door.
Alana Pierce, Junior Partner.
It still makes me smile, the Pierce part and the partner part.
I look at my watch. I have to hustle or I’m going to be late. I scurry out of Remington, Anderson, Smith, and Steele, waving hastily at the receptionists behind the desk. I press the star key for the lobby and am whooshed down to the first floor.
I nod to Stanley, my driver, as I hop into the black town car waiting for me on the street.
“Traffic should be light into Jersey, Mrs. Pierce, it’s still early,” Stanley relays, business as usual.
Yes, Jersey.
“That was the plan.” I smile at him as I pull out my iPad and look over some work. I have an hour to kill.
Stanley pulls the car up out front, nodding politely as he opens the door for me. “See you Monday.”
“Yes, thank you,” I respond graciously.
I hurry up the walkway, stick the key in the lock and turn the knob, opening the door to the sounds of splashing and giggling and one very naked baby running along the upstairs hallway.
I walk up the staircase in my heels and black pant suit and am met by a big grin and high-pitched shriek. “Mommy!”
“Hi, baby.” I pick up my daughter and swing her in the air as I walk into the bathroom. Ryan is sitting on the toilet seat, towel-drying our son. Savannah Ray and Sean Merrick John were born two years ago on a warm, August night, Savannah at 11:58 p.m., Sean at 12:03 a.m.
Not only did Ryan and I get pregnant the first time we tried, his super-sperm fertilized two of my eggs, which resulted in two little people with pale blond hair and cobalt blue eyes—twins with different birthdays.
“Hi.” I lean down and give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Hey, beautiful,” Ryan responds as Sean squirms in his arms.
Ryan and I spent three years in Las Vegas. We planned to elope, but my father, of all people, insisted otherwise. To our surprise, he gave us a beautiful wedding, but the biggest shock came when he found out I was pregnant and gifted us my childhood home. I still get teary-eyed when I think about it. He was adamant that the house was too big for just him, and it was time for a family to fill it up again. He said my mother would have wanted it that way.
There was no refusing after that.
We decided to move home six months into my pregnancy. It was time. Ryan was getting tired of the grueling schedule and physical demands, and I was really starting to miss New York. The law firm I was working at was great, but I felt like I’d peaked. My days started to become monotonous, and I was ready for a change.
I can still see Ryan kneeling down and kissing my stomach by the window in our bedroom before he left for his last show, his platinum wedding band contrasting against my black shirt while the bright lights of Vegas sparkled in the background. As sexy and alluring as Ryan was then, it’s nothing compared to the way I see him now. He has definitely kept his promise. He’s the father he never had and the husband his mother was cheated out of. But there will always be a piece of him that’s missing.
“How was your day, dear?” I drawl as I shift Savannah higher on my hip.
“With these two?” He ruffles Sean’s hair with the towel as he continues to wriggle playfully in his arms. “Always an adventure.”
“Were you able to get any work done?” He’s been a stay-at-home dad since the twins were born. He’s just finishing up his bachelor’s degree at Parsons School of Design and has started an LLC, Pierced Straight Through, Graphic and Design, which has been steadily growing over the last few months. He’s on the computer until all hours of the night, doing all sorts of things and using all sorts of terminology I don’t understand. Like gutters and crop lines and swag. All of his designs blow me away, but my favorite projects are his book covers. They’re awesome really, very emotional and visually stunning. You could stare at them for hours. If that’s not talent, I don’t know what is.
It brings me a great sense of peace knowing Ryan loves his job as much as I love mine.
“A little. While these two monsters slept.” He smiles, but his eyes look tired. I don’t doubt for one second he didn’t enjoy every minute with his two little terrors even if he is sleep deprived.
“I’ll get V dressed.” I nuzzle Savannah’s neck making her giggle. I put her in her pajamas, a two-piece set with little black and pink hearts and the word Diva written across the chest. Then I pull her hair back and clip it away from her face as she bops and sings in her little tiny voice. We named her after our mothers; Savannah for my mom, Rayleen for Ryan’s. I pick my sweet girl up off the changing table and place her on the floor. She darts out of her pink and gray room with the butterfly mobile hanging by the window, and then down the stairs, no doubt on a mission to find Ryan or Sean or both. I pick up the clothes in the bathroom and wash out the bubbles left in the tub. When I get downstairs I hear Elmo singing in the living room, and find Sean and Savannah standing on the couch shaking their bon bons with their shirts hiked up to their chins.
“Um, Ryan?” I get his attention as he digs in the refrigerator. “I think more than just twins run in your family.”
He looks over to catch a glimpse at what I’m witnessing. “Oh, no.” His face drops, and I laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll encourage ballet.”
Ryan cocks an eyebrow. “Hip-hop for Sean.”
“Whatever you want. We just have to make sure he keeps his clothes on.” I wink.
Ryan just shakes his head amused, then goes back to poking around the fridge.
A moment later Emily teeters through the front door. She’s seven months pregnant with her third child. She’s finally found her calling, motherhood. Together, she and Alex have Alyssa and Aaron, and I think they’re naming this one Amelia.
“This may be my third kid, but I will never know how you carried two of these things at the same time.” She kisses me hello, and as soon as Sean and Savannah see her they make a mad dash across the living room, screaming and giggling for their aunt. Ryan walks over with two juice boxes in one hand and a light jacket draped over his arm. He’s dressed in jeans and a black sweater with a pin-striped button-up underneath; the shirt tails are hanging out and the sleeves are rolled up his forearms. He looks yummy.
It’s October 15th, Ryan’s birthday, and although this is supposed to be a happy day, there’s always a melancholy undertone. We kiss Sean and Savannah goodbye and leave them in Emily’s capable hands. The drive to the cemetery is a quiet one and I know Ryan’s thoughts are far, far away.
We park and walk up the grassy hillside to Sean’s grave. The weather is on the cold side, but the sun is still shining and the colors of the leaves are just starting to change. There’s a bouquet of flowers and a few small baseball figurines lying by his headstone. After Sean’s death, Rayleen hit rock bottom. She spent years in and out of rehab and therapy trying to cope with the loss. It was only after our twins were born that she started to somewhat manage her life. She attends AA and hasn’t had a drink in nearly a year. She visits every day. Every, single, day, she comes to Sean’s grave. And now that I have children of my own, I can sympathize with her grief.
Ryan kneels down on the grass and it’s the same each year, a purge of tears. My heart splinters every time I witness it. It’s the only time he allows himself to cry for Sean. I encourage him to visit more often, but he says once a year is all he can take.
When he’s finally finished he rises and I hug him tightly.
Then we stand silently, hand in hand, looking over Sean’s grave. Ryan sniffs. “When I was eight I got in some trouble at school.” I look up at him surprised, he usually doesn’t say much when we’re here. “For two weeks they made me eat lunch by myself and stay in at recess, which is pretty devastating when you’re eight years old.” He takes a deep breath. “But Sean snuck in the classroom every day just so I didn’t have to be alone. He broke all the rules even then.” A tear rolls down his cheek. “That’s how I try to remember him, an innocent eight-year-old kid who’s still my brother.”
“Ryan, he will always be your brother.” I run my hand down his arm. “And he loved you, he just didn’t know how to show it.”
“It just makes me so angry that it had to end like this. That he’ll never know our children, or have a life of his own.”
“Maybe not here, but where he is now, he has all of those things. He does know our children, and he’s strong.”
Ryan sucks in a weepy breath. “I hope you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right, I’m a woman. We’re always right,” I quip and Ryan’s mood teeters just a little, but not nearly enough.
The drive home is just as quiet as the drive there. It’s dark now and there’s nothing but shadows in the sky.
“Thanks.” He laces his fingers with mine as we walk up the front steps and onto the porch.
“For what?”
“Being there. For always being there.” Ryan sighs.
“There isn’t any place I’d rather be.” I give his hand a loving squeeze.
“You know, you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He skims his thumb across my cheek.
“I think that’s only partly true.” I bat my eyelashes.
“Okay, I’ll rephrase.” He beams. “Up until two years ago you were the best thing that ever happened to me, now you have competition.”
“It’s competition I can live with.” I grin.
I unlock the door and let Ryan walk in first, and as he enters, he’s showered with voices yelling surprise. He freezes suddenly, taking in all the faces around him, all the faces of the people who love him. Emily is holding a birthday cake with sparkler candles on top, as Sean and Savannah hop giddily at her feet. Everyone who is important to us is here—Rayleen, my father, my Uncle John and Aunt Caroline, Alex, Alyssa and Aaron, Divan, and Logan (who Emily still can’t look at without blushing).
Ryan looks down at me, blazing with happiness. It’s a much better expression than earlier today.
“I love you,” he whispers as he embraces me jubilantly.
“Happy birthday,” I respond when his lips part from mine.
“Only since I met you,” he tacks on just before he’s bombarded by hugs and kisses and handshakes. I watch as Ryan is encircled in our foyer, a feeling of great joy overtaking me. Our future has been fused. And it’s a beautiful, boundless prospect of what can ultimately be.
The End