EPILOGUE

Christmas day and that same big family, with Hammer Reese and even Oz Drakos added to the mix, were seated around the table ready to dig in. It wasn’t a castle’s table. It wasn’t even the biggest mansion in the family’s table. It was Charles and Jenay’s table in picturesque Jericho, Maine. And Jenay, this time, had a few words to say.

“First of all,” she said as she stood to her feet, “I want to welcome all of you to Maine. It’s been an eventful year.”

They all laughed. That, they knew, was the understatement of the year.

“We’ve had ups. We’ve had plenty downs. Fights like you wouldn’t believe,” she added to laughter. “This one at this throat. That one at that throat. Cats and dogs fighting each other would find some of us too much.” They laughed again. “But at the end of the day, we always came together when it mattered most.”

A great, long-lasting applause.

“But I want to give a toast right now,” she said as she lifted her glass. “To my hardworking, hard charging, sometimes get on your last damn nerve husband Charlie.”

They all agreed as they lifted their glasses too.

“Your heart and soul and undying love brought this very fractured family back together again. You made us realize something we had forgotten.”

“What’s that?” Charles asked with a grin.

“You made us realize that we actually do prefer each other’s company.”

They laughed.

She raised her glass to Charles. “Thank you, my love.”

Here here was the prevailing response as they all raised their glasses, too, and took a sip.

Then Charles stood up.

“We’re hungry, Big Daddy,” Reno said to laughter. “You can go on and on when you wanna go.”

“I’ll be brief, how about that, Reno?”

“We’ll see,” was all Reno would commit to.

Charles smiled. “The only reason I’m standing is because I want to invite the couples to another marriage retreat---”

“No way!”

“Are you nuts?”

“You can forget that, Big Daddy.”

“What are you missing a screw?”

“I’d rather eat cotton!”

“Nice try, Big Daddy. Nice try. But no.”

Charles laughed out loud. “Just kidding,” he said. “Merry Christmas one and all,” he added, they raised their glasses again, and then he sat down and they had their feast.

“ Have yourself a

merry little Christmas.

Let your heart be light.

From now on our troubles

will be out of sight.”

And as the voices of triumph filled the dining hall in that familiar house in Maine, and as that familiar Christmas carol could be heard over the stereo system, they all understood it better now. And they agreed with every word.

“Have yourself a

merry little Christmas.

Make the yuletide gay.

From now on our troubles

will be miles away.

So have yourself a

merry little Christmas day.”