Epilogue

Richie wrestles with me as I try to get him out of the car. "Hon, come on," I beg, finally managing to pick him up and deposit him into the stroller. He looks up at me with the same puppy-dog eyes as his father's, and I shake my head fondly. "You're going to grow up to be a sportsman just like your daddy, aren't you?"

He farts in response. Such is the life of a five-month-old.

I wheel him through to the field, where Matt and Jackson are still playing. Jackson meant every word of what he said to me that day. We've moved in with him, he's coaching Matt's team, and we're happy. He still has his grumpy moments, but he smiles more than ever these days. Matt likes having someone other than me there, too; someone he can talk ball with endlessly and run around the house with.

"Hey, Freya!" hollers Jackson from the field. "We're just finishing up."

"No rush," I call back, parking Richie and myself on the bleachers to watch.

Matt comes up to bat, smacking it far into the outfield. I cheer for him, and he looks back at me with a look that's half disgusted and half pleased that he's getting recognition. As always, he's a teenager. He's going to be embarrassed by me, and he's going to have to cope with it.

The boys keep batting for a while, and I sit back, relaxing into the slow pace of the afternoon. I can't say I'm not excited to get back to work — yes, having a baby is a full-time job, but I feel ready now. I'm getting bored at home, and I know Jackson is more than capable of looking after Richie without me needing to be there all the time.

I didn't realize it before, but I couldn't do this without the support he offers. It's good to have someone I can lean on.

Finally, the last kid bats, and the group start packing up. Jackson gives them all instructions, then jogs over to me and Richie. He picks our baby up and launches him high into the air. "Hey, batter!" he grins.

"Careful!" I say, holding out my hands instinctively.

"And hello, love of my life," he says to me, cradling Richie to his chest and leaning in to kiss me. "How's your afternoon been?"

"Richie cried for most of it. I think he's restless. We went for a walk, which calmed him down a bit, but he's in a mood."

"He missed his daddy, huh?" Jackson nuzzles his face into Richie's. I have no idea if the kid can tell how much we love him, but every time I see Jackson with him, my heart swells fuller than I ever thought it could.

One of the other kids runs up to us and coughs to get Jackson's attention. "Mr. Kerr? We're ready now."

"Great," Jackson beams, and that's the first thing that tips me off that something is happening. He might be a changed man, but old habits die hard, and this amount of visible happiness is worrisome.

"Jackson, what are you up to?" I ask suspiciously.

He just shrugs, placing Richie back in the stroller. I narrow my eyes at him, but he stays silent, committed to whatever scheme he's cooking up behind my back.

Fortunately, I don't have to wait much longer, because all the kids suddenly part into formation, dashing around like synchronized swimmers until they're in the shape of a heart and a question mark. I stare at them in delight and confusion.

And then I look back down at Jackson, and he's dropped to one knee, a ring held between finger and thumb.

I gasp. "Jackson… What is this?"

"Freya Odell. I love you. Marry me?"

I burst into laughter and tears all at the same time. Most people make big speeches when they're proposing, confessing their undying love and swearing to be with their partner for all eternity. Of course Jackson wasn't going to do that, though. This is so him — straight to the point and yet so, so romantic all at the same time.

"Yes. Of course! Of course I'll marry you."

He leaps to his feet, slides the ring onto my finger, then lifts me into the air to kiss me, spinning us around so the rest of the world blurs into oblivion, leaving only us in focus. All that matters right now is his lips on mine, his arms gripping me tight, and a silent promise between us that we're not going to let go. That this is forever, through the rough and the smooth. It's me and him against the world.

It's perfect. Just like our family. It's all going to be perfect.

The End

I hope you've enjoyed Freya and Jackson's story!