EPILOGUE

Forever

 

 

“Yoo-hoo!”

“We’re in the kitchen, Mom,” Jack hollers back.

I stop chopping green apples and swipe my arm across my forehead. “Thank goodness your mom’s here. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He laughs and steals a kiss. “Mmm, raspberry. Aren’t they supposed to go into the chutney before they go into your mouth?”

“Sometimes a raspberry goes rogue. Takes a detour.” I give him a hip bump for emphasis.

“Lucky I love raspberries.”

“Be careful or you’ll run yourself right out of luck.”

“Be careful or you’ll run us out of raspberries. This chutney is my favorite part of the Thanksgiving feast.”

“Poor turkey. Gives its life for you, and you don’t appreciate the sacrifice.”

“Dumb bird should have learned how to fly.”

I drop everything and throw my arms around him. “I love you, un-Boss Man.”

The arms circling my waist loosen. “No un-manning me today. When your dad gets here, I’m going to need every bit of manliness I can find.”

“You shoulda thought of that before you decided to mate with a wildcat.”

“She’s worth it.” Chocolate eyes shine with so much love, it’s hard for me to breathe.

This man has rapidly become the center of my entire world. Was it just a couple of months ago I fought for independence from the men in my life? It wasn’t until I became Mrs. Jack DePaul this past weekend that I found freedom.

Evelyn DePaul comes in, carrying a pie in each hand. Her husband, Adam, carries two more, Aunt Bink holding his elbow. All four pies slide onto Jack’s fifteen-foot island.

“I always have loved this kitchen,” Eve says, circumventing the island to kiss us. “Glad to see it’s finally going to get some proper use.”

Adam shakes his son’s hand and pecks my cheek. “How are the newlyweds faring with their first Thanksgiving?”

“A lot better now that reinforcements have arrived,” I say.

Jack laughs. “Come on, Dad, help me set up for football.”

I catch Jack’s eye before he leaves the kitchen with his father. “That sounds like a manly thing to do.”

He winces, and my fingers wave goodbye. Bink tee-hees.

“I can’t believe that’s my quiet, surly son,” Eve muses, eyes glistening as she watches him go off with his father. They join his brothers and mine in front of the monster television above the fireplace that’s crackling festively. “I’m so glad he found you, Jilly.”

Tears threaten to slide out of my eyes, and my heart swells with emotion for this new family I’ve joined. My arms wrap around her slim shoulders, and we pour our feelings into a long hug. “Thanks for raising such a super son.” I realize when I say the words out loud, how true they are. He’s super. I can’t image any man more perfect for me.

“Okay,” Eve says, breaking away, her voice gruff with unshed tears, “the men are off doing their thing, and we can have some girl talk. Do you know how long I’ve waited for my sons to bring me daughters?”

Jack’s platinum-haired mother is my feminine ideal. Looking elegant and refined on the outside, she’s pure fun on the inside. A lot like Aunt Bink.

“I understand, dear,” Bink says. “That’s why I moved into Nate’s house after my sister died. I couldn’t leave this poor girl all alone in that sea of testosterone.”

Eve laughs. “Exactly. It’s overpowering. This is such a treat. I finally have a beautiful daughter. So, tell me, Jillian, what do you want us to do while we talk?”

“Well, Mom, the only thing I know how to make is a terrific Long Island iced tea.”

“Then, you pour while I get my bearings. If we can’t figure it out, we’ll get the men soused and feed ‘em pie.”

I beam at her. “The perfect Thanksgiving.”

By the time all eleven of us sit on either side of the long dining table, a full feast spans the island’s granite top. Jack pops champagne, and the toasts begin. Since we’ve all had too many Long Island iced teas, the toasts are pretty flowery.

But none surpasses Jack’s to me.

“To my wife. She’s every breath I take, every scent I adore, every touch I crave, with enough snark in her to keep things spicy. I love you, Jilly DePaul.”

“Hear, hear,” echoes along the table.

When the cheers give way to sips, I stand, and with happy tears in my eyes, raise my glass to Jack.

“To my husband, the best aggravating, surly Boss Man a woman could ever want. Thank you for saving my life. In every way. I love you to pieces, Jack DePaul. Forever.”

 

 

THE END