EXTENDED EPILOGUE
Julia
Nine years later
“Mom, it squirted on me!” Cheyenne, our oldest yells.
“It’s chicken Kiev. That’s what it does.”
“The middle is the best part,” Isaac says. “And this is absolutely delicious, honey.”
“Thank you,” I say. I think it took all of about one week for Isaac to adapt to my cooking. Then again I’m not sure if adapting is the right word, considering when we met he ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and protein bars most of the time. That and oatmeal and grilled chicken without any seasoning.
“It’s good, mom!” Helena, our middle child says.
“Thank you, dear.”
Phoenix, our youngest is only six months old so it will be another Gerber night for him.
And we just learned today that number four is officially on the way. If it’s a boy we may mix it up a bit and go with Wyatt. We’ll keep those names that match the open plains of the Wild West, but maybe give the state capitals a break. We’ve already covered Wyoming, Montana, and Arizona. I don’t think the next child would appreciate being known as Sacramento or Santa Fe, although Austin could be a perfect fit.
But hidden inside each child’s name is a little secret…the cities where each was conceived. I’ve come to love this country just as much as I imagined, and our names are a small tribute to that.
But it’s not just the country that makes it all worthwhile. It’s him.
He encouraged me to open a language school nine years ago. The first couple years were hard, but he stuck with me and even invested some of his own money in the idea. He was sure of it, and sure of me, and that made me push even harder.
And all those late nights paid off. Eventually the brand name we came up with started to become recognized and one thing led to another and we were approached by an app maker. We weren’t sure the world needed another language learning app for their iPhone or Android device, but somehow they convinced us.
And now that app has gone global and we’ve been blessed with more money than we could ever spend. I’m sure if we tried we could, but we live a simple lifestyle that’s focused on two things…family and travel fun. We love nothing more than vacations together and I’m so glad that some of that money from the app can go towards helping us spend more time together. It’s nice to know I had a little something to contribute financially, although Isaac tells me my contribution was one thousand times greater than his. All that really matters is that it was us, together.
At the end of the day it’s just the names on the different paychecks that all wind up in the same place, but I would have never got my feet off the ground without his help and encouragement. It was even his idea to sponsor my mother for a U.S. green card so she could help out. We cited her deep understanding of the Russian language as to why we couldn’t hire an American for the job, and it was true. We got her approved and now she lives in the States, visiting frequently but living out her dream of a life in Miami. Word was she was the toast of the retirement community where she lived.
And after years of waiting I’d become an American citizen myself. My kids were born with the citizenship, but I had to earn it, just like Isaac and I earned each other’s trust, and love, all those years ago.
It’s crazy to think that our “relationship” started off as an arrangement with certain rules and timelines.
Now it was like time was flying by as the kids were growing up so fast, and also there were no rules in our house. We simply lived by the ideas of loving and respecting each other, including our neighbors, friends, and strangers, and everything worked out all right.
Strangers…just how Isaac and I started out.
I look over and see him spoon-feeding Phoenix some baby food. I shake my head and smile, thinking just how unbelievably crazy, in a good way, this thing called life can be.
My fireman fake fiancé had become my real husband, and in doing so he won my heart and gave me the family I always wanted.
I stand up out of my chair and move around the table to him. I wrap him up in a hug from behind as he continues feeding Phoenix.
“Hey there,” I say, kissing him on the cheek and then laying my head on his shoulder.
“Hey there yourself,” he says, turning which causes my head to come off his shoulder and puts our faces in line for a perfect kiss. He squeezes my booty hard under the table out of the line of sight of the kids.
“Gross. Get a room you two.” Cheyenne says.
We both laugh and Isaac whispers to me, “Maybe a room in…Cheyenne?”
“Maybe,” I say. “Just maybe.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you,” I say.
“Wait…is that why you named me Cheyenne?”
Our heads turn at the same time catching the absolute surprise on her face at the revelation she’s just experienced.
We burst out laughing like two kids right in front of our own kids. Our three kids, which are soon to be four.
And why stop there?
We’ve got a lot more journeys to take and a whole heck of a lot more gas in the tank. We’re just getting started. Together. Forever.