Epilogue
Christmas Eve, the following year
My doorbell rang just as I was peeling shrimp. “Shit.” I looked down at my hands, then over at Sailo, who was checking on some sauce simmering on the stove. “Could you get that?”
“Of course.” He put the lid on the pot and disappeared from the kitchen.
A moment later, Kurt, April, Mark, and their respective partners—not to mention my granddaughter—filed into the kitchen, setting down bags of gifts and unzipping parkas.
“Sorry we’re late.” Devon groaned. “We had to wait for the damn landlord to come by and fix the water heater.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.
“Nothing now.” He turned to Nathan. “Do you need a hand getting the rest of the presents?”
“I could definitely use some help,” my son-in-law said. “There’s…a lot.”
Sailo looked at me. “Can you hold down the fort for a minute while I help them?”
“Not a problem.”
April kept an eye on Kayla and Mika, and everyone else went back down to help unload the car. Alone in the warm, fragrant kitchen, I smiled to myself as I tended to all the dishes.
Everything in my world had changed over the last year, but I was happy now. Happier than I’d been before. I hadn’t even realized how much of a rut I’d fallen into, how unhappy my ex-wife and I really were, until that part of our lives was behind us.
But it was behind us now. This was my first Christmas in the new place, and I did the best I could to ignore how alien it felt. No, not alien. Just…new. Different, but good.
Having Sailo here, that felt pretty damned normal these days. In fact, it was starting to feel weird when he wasn’t here, even though I was used to him working nights at Wilde’s. Whenever he wasn’t working, and we weren’t out somewhere, we always ended up back here or at his place. It was only a matter of time before we moved in together. As it was, bits and pieces were creeping over to each other’s houses. Sailo’s grill was still on my back patio after the Fourth of July. We each had clothes hanging in the other’s closet.
“I guess I should bring your grill back over one of these days,” I’d said to him as summer came to a close.
He’d shrugged. “Might as well keep it there. By the time it’s grilling weather again, we’ll probably have a place together anyway.”
So the grill stayed, and so did he.
He’d waited a few months before introducing me to his son, which I completely understood. After he’d met me a few times, we started taking him along on outings and day trips. I was pretty sure I won the kid over forever at the fair over Labor Day weekend—Sailo couldn’t stomach carnival rides, but I went on every last one with Mika.
In the last year, I’d spent more time with my own son than I had in the past several years combined. Mark was finally opening up again, and we’d gone from tensely cordial to the kind of friendly father-son relationship I’d always hoped for.
I’d gone with him when he’d decided to come out to Becky. She’d also taken it well—in fact, if she was uncomfortable with anything about that conversation, it was my presence. But Mark had been too nervous to approach her on his own, and having me there relaxed him. Once that conversation was over, it was smooth sailing. He told me not long after that Becky and Devon absolutely adored each other.
As time went on, I empathized even more with Mark’s struggle to come out to us and everyone else in his life. My own coming out had been a slow, challenging process. I’d told my youngest son not long after Sailo and I reconciled, and he’d taken it in stride. If anything, he was relieved that I knew about Mark being gay—now he didn’t feel like he was keeping this enormous secret from us anymore.
My kids were at peace with it, so I was happy, but I still had to eventually come clean to the extended family. My mother and stepdad weren’t thrilled, but they started lightening up after they met Mika over the Fourth of July. Something about seeing the three of us together—and realizing that Sailo’s son was, for all intents and purposes, their new grandson—softened them, and this year’s Christmas card had come addressed to both of us. Telling my father, well…the less said about that, the better.
As for Becky and me, we were more or less amicable, but we were still a long way off from being as friendly as Rhett and his ex-wife, and since all of our kids were grown, we didn’t have co-parenting as an excuse to force ourselves to interact. We’d sent each other Christmas cards with “hope you’re doing well,” and signed them individually rather than including our respective boyfriends’ names—cordial, civil, but not terribly warm. Maybe we’d never be friendly. I was okay with that, though. We’d had some good years, and we’d raised three great kids together. If moving on meant parting ways, then I could make peace with that if she could be happy and so could I.
I also didn’t see as much of the friends Becky and I had once socialized with. We kept in touch but had sort of drifted apart. Instead, Sailo and I spent a lot of time hanging out with Rhett and Ethan and their friends. Sailo didn’t even mind a little playful ribbing about spending all his time with a bunch of old men. And since my kids would be at their mother’s on Christmas Day, we were joining the guys tomorrow, along with Sabrina and her family.
Rhett and Ethan were enjoying the hell out of being grandfathers. Sabrina’s baby was a few months old now, and that woman never had to worry about finding a babysitter if she and her husband needed some downtime. Ethan especially had taken to his new role like a duck to water. He’d come into Sabrina’s life when she was already eight years old, so this was the closest he’d ever had to raising a baby, and he loved it.
So, overall, though, things were settling. My social circle had changed. My love life had changed. My identity had changed. And though it had been a painful process, it was hard to look at the way things were now and believe it hadn’t been for the better.
The best part? Even as the need to rebound from my marriage wore off, along with the novelty of being able to live as a gay man, my breath still caught whenever Sailo came through the door.
And right at that moment, the apartment door opened, and paper crinkled and feet shuffled as the troops returned with…
“My God,” I said as they passed by the kitchen doorway. “How many gifts did you guys bring?”
“Blame your daughter,” Nathan called over his shoulder.
“I heard that!” she said from the living room.
Chuckling, I shook my head.
Sailo stepped in, brushing a few raindrops off his sleeves. “How’s everything coming along?”
“Nothing’s on fire yet, so I’ll call it a win.” I pulled off my oven mitts and paused for a quick kiss. “Can you keep an eye on it while I get everyone situated?”
“Of course.”
We exchanged smiles, and of course another kiss, and I left the kitchen. After I’d taken everyone’s coats into the spare bedroom, I came back out to see them unloading a shitload of gifts. April and Nathan really had gone all out—there were mountains of packages under the tree, and Mark and Devon had brought quite a few too. Not that Sailo and I had exactly been stingy either. It was our first Christmas together, so we’d gone…a little crazy.
“Dad, I think we should probably start opening these before dinner,” Nathan said. “Or we’re going to be here all night.”
“No!” Kayla looked up from playing trucks with Mika. “We have to be home for Santa!”
“You’ll be home in time for Santa,” I said. “I promise.” To Nathan, I added, “Yeah, we should get started soon. This is going to take a while.”
“That’s an understatement.” Devon laughed
“Well, let me wrap up a few things in the kitchen, and then we’ll get started.”
“Do you need a hand?” April started to stand up.
“I think we’ve got it, but you’re welcome to join us.”
She glanced at her daughter, who was playing happily with Mika by the Christmas tree. We left them under the watchful eyes of the boys and headed for the kitchen.
April pressed her shoulder against the doorway and chatted with Sailo and me while we finished putting dinner together.
“Are the potatoes done?” I asked.
“Five more minutes.” Sailo glanced at me. “Do you want me to put the green bean casserole in when it comes out?”
“Yes, please.”
“Will do. Just let me finish…” Sailo took the lid off the chicken curry dish, something from a Samoan recipe his mother had always prepared for special occasions.
Instantly, April clapped her hand over her mouth and turned away, making a gagging sound. “Oh God…”
Sailo and I froze, exchanging glances.
“April?” I asked. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she croaked. “Sorry.”
Sailo put the lid back on and glanced at me. “I thought you liked curry?”
“I do. I do. I…” She turned to us, and some color bloomed in her cheeks. “Just wasn’t expecting the smell. It’s, um, strong.”
“It’s never bothered you before,” I said. “Are—”
Our eyes locked.
I faced her fully, absently drying my hands on a kitchen towel. “You’ve never been sensitive to strong smells except…”
The corners of her mouth rose slightly.
“April…”
She laughed. “Well, I was going to wait until dinner to say anything.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re serious.”
She nodded. “Yep. Twelve weeks last Thursday.”
“Oh my God.” I crossed the kitchen and hugged her gently but tightly. “Congratulations, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She laughed. “Merry Christmas.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Merry Christmas. Does your mom know yet?”
She shook her head, releasing me. “No. I…guess I wanted to tell you guys first. Except I was, um, going to be a little less…nauseated about it?”
I laughed, pulling her into another hug. “Yeah, way to make the announcement—by insulting my boyfriend’s cooking.”
“Yeah.” Sailo huffed sharply. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry!” She let me go and hugged him. “You know I love your cooking!”
“I know, I know.” He embraced her gently and patted her shoulder. “And in all seriousness, congratulations.”
“Thanks.” As she stepped back, she glanced toward the living room. “I guess I should go make sure the kids aren’t diving into their presents early.”
Sailo craned his neck, looking past her. “I think Nathan was watching them, wasn’t he?”
“Yep.” She smirked. “Exactly why I’d better check.”
The three of us laughed, and she left the kitchen.
As soon as we were alone, I exhaled and rested my hands on the counter “Wow. That was…unexpected.”
Sailo put a hand on the small of my back, and when I turned to him, he smiled. “Going to be a grandfather all over again, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” I grinned, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “Don’t get too smug. Technically, you’re the step-grandparent.”
“Technically, not unless we’re married.” He paused, then winked. “So maybe by next Christmas.”
My heart fluttered, and I leaned in to kiss him lightly. “Sounds like next year’s going to be a big year.”
“Yeah.” He grinned, drawing me in closer. “It is.” He pressed his lips to mine and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Guess we should go join everybody else?” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “I want to open presents too.”
“Oh, well, I suppose. Let’s grab the munchies.” I turned to pick up the bowls of chips and dip, but before I could, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my neck.
“By the way,” he murmured, “I meant to tell you, I looked into renting the VIP lounge. They’re willing to give me an employee discount, so it’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Yeah?” I put my hands over his. “How’s their schedule look?”
“Wide open for May.” He nuzzled my neck. “Still think you want to do it in May?”
“What do you think?”
He shrugged. “Works for me.”
“Do they have a lot of receptions up there?”
“Now and then. Most people don’t want to bring their families to Wilde’s, so…”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
One more kiss, and we continued into the living room to join the rest of the family. As I sat on the couch, surrounded by the most amazing people on the planet, I couldn’t stop smiling.
This time next year, we’d be living somewhere together. Maybe married, or maybe we’d put it off for another year, but both our names would be on a lease. Maybe even a mortgage. These decorations would be in a different place, with a different array of gifts stacked beneath the branches of a different tree, and it would be amazing.
All this change was kind of terrifying, but it was exciting too. The life I’d had before was, to an extent, over, but I was moving on. Moving forward. Moving toward something even better than I’d ever imagined.
I was okay. I was happy.
And I was living again.