Epilogue Olwydd

Our kitchen looks like a war zone. And not the cool kind with heroic Squatches defending Grotto from invaders. Nope, this is more like the aftermath of a food fight between a bunch of sugar-high grade schoolers.

There's flour everywhere—on the counters, the floor, the walls. How did it get on the ceiling? I'm afraid to ask. Eggshells crunch under my feet as I survey the damage, and something sticky drips down the cabinet doors.

In the middle of this culinary carnage stands my beautiful mate looking like a frustrated goddess with flour dusting the tip of her nose and a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. She's got her hands on her hips, eyeing the disaster around us with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"Alright, boys," she announces, clapping her hands together. "You're doing great."

She has the patience of a saint. She's giving me and our nephews cooking lessons and we've been at it for hours. So far, the only thing we've successfully made is a mess.

"Aunt Bambi, is the stove supposed to make that noise?" Jac's innocent question sends a chill down my spine.

I whip around to see smoke billowing from the oven. "Sweet mother of—" I cut myself off, remembering little ears are present. "Everyone back!"

As I frantically wave my arms to disperse the smoke, I catch Bambi's eye. She's trying hard not to laugh, but I can see the mirth dancing in her eyes and I can't even be upset. I'm too smitten by her to be upset.

"Maybe we should try salads next," Bambi suggests, her lips twitching.

I puff out my chest. "We Sasquatch men are master hunters. Surely we can conquer a simple casserole."

Osian snorts. "Yeah, because hunting a deer is totally the same as not burning pasta."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Watch it, smarty-pants. I'll have you know I'm an excellent...uh...burner of things."

Bambi loses her battle with laughter, doubling over and clutching her swollen belly. The sight of her, eyes crinkled with joy and hands cradling our future, makes my heart do a little jig. I'm the luckiest Squelch in Grotto.

"Aunt Bambi," Elis taps her shoulder, "a word of warning. When the baby comes, whatever you do, don't let Uncle Olwydd help with homework."

I gasp in mock outrage. "Hey! I resent that. I was a great help with your homework."

Bambi shoots me a look.

"Riiight. Just an FYI Uncle Olwydd," Osian deadpans, "The capital of Canada is not Sasquatchewan."

"Huh. Well, it should be," I mutter, crossing my arms.

Giggling, Bambi waddles over and pats my chest consolingly. "It's okay, honey. We can't all be good at everything."

I lean down to press a kiss to her forehead, marveling at how perfectly she fits against me, baby bump and all. "That's why I have you, beautiful. To be good at all the things I'm not. Like cooking."

"Ugh, gross!" Jac exclaims, making exaggerated gagging noises. "They're being mushy again!"

I grin wickedly. "Oh, you think that's mushy? Watch this." I drop to my knees in front of Bambi and pepper kisses all over her belly. "Hello in there, little one," I say between kisses. "It's your dad. Just wanted to let you know that your mom is the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful?—"

"Alright, alright," Bambi laughs, swatting at me playfully. "You're tickling me."

I stand up, pulling her close. "Just wait ‘till later, I'll tickle all your nooks and crannies."

The boys collectively groan, but I catch the fond smiles they try to hide. They might pretend to be disgusted, but I know they're as excited for their new baby cousin to arrive as we are.

A knock at the cave entrance interrupts our moment. Braith pokes her head in, takes one look at the disaster zone that used to be our kitchen, and bursts out laughing.

"Oh my," she wheezes, stepping inside. "I see the cooking lesson is going well."

Bambi grins sheepishly. "We're… making progress?"

Braith pats her on the shoulder. "You're braver than I am. I wouldn't even have the courage to attempt to teach these guys to cook."

Bambi laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "I was born to teach." She meets my eyes and our gazes lock. "There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought I'd have to give up on all my dreams."

My arms tighten around her instinctively. I hate thinking about the pain she went through, the injustice of it all.

"Then Olwydd came along." She looks up at me, her eyes shining with love and gratitude. "And made all my dreams come true."

There's a collective groan from the peanut gallery.

"They're being gross again," Osian stage-whispers to his brothers.

"Okay," Bambi claps her hands. "Next lesson, a tossed salad."

She directs the boys as they dig in the fridge for salad ingredients.

"Hey." Braith sidles up to me, her voice low. "Can I talk to you for a sec? Privately."

I nod and follow Braith to a quiet corner of the cave.

She puls out her tablet, taps the screen a few times, and hands it to me, her brow cocked inquisitively.

I lean in, squinting at the screen. It's a headline from the human world: "Pastor Jacob Houghton Indicted for Possession of Child Pornography."

I can't help the satisfied smirk that spreads across my face. Quickly I skim the article, catching phrases like "airtight case" and "up to 22 years in prison." Good. Let the bastard rot.

I glance up to see Braith watching me expectantly. "Well?" she prompts.

What can I say?

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "I neither confirm nor deny any involvement."

She snorts, shaking her head. "You don't need to. Good job, bro. Good job."

Not that I'd admit it outright or anything, but I may have had a little help making sure certain manufactured evidence found its way to the right people.

The pastor can claim he's innocent all he wants, but just like when Bambi claimed her innocence, no one is going to listen.

Nobody messes with my mate and gets away with it.

I glance up at her just as a chunk of cucumber flies across the room and hits me in the forehead.

"Oops, sorry Uncle Olwydd," Elis says sheepishly.

Like I said, my mate is a saint.