Epilogue
Harrison
“You ready?” Lucas came in dressed in his best suit. Damn, it was all I could do not to take those clothes right off of him.
“I should be asking you that.” I winked. “This is your big day.”
It was opening day for the restaurant. Lucas had gone with the fancy name Mapleville Eats, insisting it was because that would be where everyone in Mapleville eats, but he wasn’t fooling me. It was his way of saying goodbye to the pretentious plates that made him famous, and hello to the wonderful comfort-food goodness he was focusing on. Well, comfort food and high-end steak because there pretty much wasn’t anything better than a good steak even if that sounded snotty.
“Our big day,” he singsonged as he tickled Luca who was nestled in my arms, smiling brightly.
She’d been a happy baby since the day she was born, but her smile always beamed brightest for Lucas, even if Vivian was sure that honor was hers. In the three months since she was born, that hadn’t changed. She was a daddy’s girl, just as she should be.
Lucas was such an amazing father and husband, always putting us first. The network had thrown insane numbers at him to move to Maine, and never once had he considered them, even when I assured him we would go where he did. He insisted we were his home, and Mapleville was where we were rooted.
“Do you think people will come?” Lucas asked in a rare moment of insecurity over work.
“I think the entire town will be there.” In fact, I could pretty much guarantee it. Between the crew working nonstop and all the deliveries shortly after the tabloids had Lucas throwing away his career over a fear of the ocean—because yeah, they somehow made it about that, neglecting the fact he owned oceanside property on the opposite side of the country, we’d been overwhelmed. I had a feeling Warren set that little ball in motion to keep the limelight off of our family, and I appreciated it.
I also appreciated that he decided to stay in Mapleville and be co-owner in the restaurant. It meant Lucas didn’t own the entire burden and didn’t have to worry every time he decided to take an hour or two off.
“I should probably change my shirt, then.” I sighed looking at not one but two spit-up stains on my shirt. It was my new normal. The doctor said it would end soon, and I knew that didn’t equate with clean shirts—it only meant next shirt stain would be baby food.
“You’re just going to have to change it again and again.” He wasn’t wrong. “Spit-up is part of the territory.”
“I’ll still feel better. Here”—I handed him Luca— “but don’t let her spit up on you. You will need to look good for the cameras.”
“Camera. Jaxon is one person, and besides, I’d wear it with honor.” He would, too.
“Whatever.” I shrugged and grabbed a new shirt to change into and one for the diaper bag.
Out of all the things that fatherhood entailed, the massive number of things required to even take her to visit her dad for lunch blew my mind.
“Ready.” I threw the diaper bag over my shoulder and went outside to warm up the minivan because yeah, somehow that became a thing. My grandad used to say you have to pick your battles, so when Lucas showed up one afternoon driving the soccer-mom mobile, I just rolled my eyes and said thank you.
Lucas followed me out two minutes later, as was our routine, and secured her into her car seat before joining me up front.
“I’m nervous,” he confessed as I drove out of the driveway and onto the road. “My restaurants have always been successful because people wanted to be spotted there by the press or a television camera. This. This is different.”
“It is different. This time, the townspeople won’t be there to see the world-famous chef, they will be there being nosey about what changes you made to the building and if it will still be good enough for wedding receptions.” Not that it ever really was good enough before, but it was what the town had.
It was more than good enough now. Lucas managed to revitalize the place without making it feel out of place for such a small town. I was able to do some woodwork for them, but between recovering from the C-section and raising a human, I didn’t get as much as I wanted to done. Lucas insisted I didn’t need to do any of it, but I wanted a piece of me in there, too.
“They are a nosey lot.” He laughed just as I pulled into the restaurant.
Technically, he’d had a soft opening where people came and ate, just like they would any other day of the week they went to a restaurant. But this was the official grand opening, and the parking lot was jammed. Lucas had already decided not to be the full-time chef, but more the person who created the menus and a sometimes chef. He said it freed him up to write more cookbooks, but I knew it was because he didn’t like the long hours away from home that the restaurant business entailed. He had managers do most of the work at his restaurants and had become a silent partner for the most part.
“Looks like there are lots of people.”
“As we both agreed—nosey.” He leaned over, kissing my cheek before climbing out of the van and grabbing Luca.
We walked in, side by side, and were greeted with clapping and cheers, immediately surrounded by our friends, the townspeople, and those we now thought of as family. Who would’ve guessed a year ago, when I was packing up my truck to sell things at a juried craft fair, that single decision could’ve changed my life so completely—and in the very best of ways.