Epilogue

Jory

(sometime in the future)

“Bry, lunch time!”I call out through the back door. I can hear Peaches barking and smile at how perfect my life is now.

As I walk back into the kitchen to finish grabbing the plates, the back door bounces open and I hear, “Mommy, tell Cady I can go up into the hayloft and help her feed the kitties,” Ellie, our youngest yells as she makes her way to the sink. “I’m a big girl now, ‘member?”

“You are, sweetie, but not big enough to go up the ladder in the loft,” Bryson says, picking her up so she can wash her hands, despite the fact there’s a stool right there for that purpose.

“Mommy, I told her she couldn’t because we didn’t want her to get hurt,” Ollie, my second child and only son, says as he waits his turn to wash his hands. “I offered to help her pick tomatoes,” he adds, grinning at me.

Seeing the sprinkle of freckles across his face, along with his gap-toothed grin due to the fact he lost one of his front teeth has me ruffling his hair. Bryson turns, leans in and kisses my lips, then sets Ellie down so she can race to the table.

“How are my babies?” he murmurs, his hand rubbing my distended belly.

Twins. After three children, we found out we weren’t having our fourth. No, we’re having our fourth and fifth kids. One of each, which means Ollie is happy because while he’ll have three sisters, he won’t be totally outnumbered since he’ll have a little brother as well.

“Your children are giving me heartburn today,” I reply, grinning up at him. “Of course, it could be the barbecue sandwich you brought me on your way home from work. Who knows?”

“My vote’s on the sandwich,” he teases, leading me to the table. After he has Ollie say grace, a tradition I found I liked because it helps the kids to remember to think of others, we start eating.

“Are we still going to the festival?” Cady asks between bites.

One of the things that came about because of the new animal shelter is an annual festival. Each vendor promises to donate ten percent of their profit to the shelter, and they also pay a table fee that goes directly to the shelter fund. It’s been self-supporting since the first year, which means that now, we’re able to offer vouchers for free spays and neuters to those who are low income.

“Absolutely. Do y’all have your money together?” Bryson asks.

There are also rides, and surprisingly the owner of the amusement company that sets up is a huge animal lover, so they also donate a portion of their profits. It’s one of the reasons we’ve been able to expand so many programs.

“I have twenty dollars, Daddy,” Ellie states.

“I only have ten,” Ollie grumbles.

“Remember how you wanted that new model last week?” Bryson questions. “We tried to remind you the festival was coming, but you were set on getting it.”

I snicker because if one of the kids really wants something, all they have to do is look at Bryson and he’ll pull out his wallet. He gives me a look and I roll my eyes.

“Are you and Auntie Desi working your booth again, Mommy?” Cady asks.

“Yeah, sweetie. People need that information, after all.”

“When I grow up, I want to work with dead people like Mommy,” Ellie announces.

I hear something that sounds suspiciously like a snort and glare at Bryson. Ellie is our Miss Priss. She loves all the animals, but hates getting dirty, so when it’s her turn to get the eggs from the coop, or to weed the garden, she does a lot of squealing about bugs and dirt.

“It’s not an easy job, Ellie,” I warn. “I know that Mommy and Auntie Desi make people look nice, but they don’t always arrive like that.”

“I know, Mommy,” she exclaims. “Jordan Bishop says that I’m a freak for wanting to do that because people come in all bloody and gross.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “First of all, you’re not a freak, baby. Secondly, sometimes people do come to the funeral home looking bad, but that’s when Mommy and Auntie Desi come into play. Did you know people thought I was a freak?” Bryson growls from his spot at the head of the table but I ignore him and continue. “After I was injured in the fire all those years ago, I had horrible scars on my legs where my dress caught fire. Because it was so big, I didn’t know it had until I felt the pain, so a lot of damage was done.”

“You mean your tattoos, Mommy?” Ollie questions.

“Yeah, baby. Some of Daddy’s friends know how to cover scars with tattoos and they were nice enough to help Mommy.”

“That was before Daddy asked you to marry him, right?” Cady adds.

“Yes, it was,” I reply, grinning. Bryson has told our kids our story since they were old enough to understand. Of course, not the spicier parts of our life, which still make me blush even all these years later, but enough that they grasp the importance of building a good relationship. Not just with people who are their friends, but also those who they might be involved with romantically.

“Okay, so since it looks like everyone’s done, let’s clear off the table for your mom, then get ready to head out,” Bryson decrees. As they scurry off to take care of the empty plates, he heads to my end of the table and helps me up. “Figured you looked like you’d want a reprieve.”

“I need to pee,” I admit, causing him to chuckle. “It’s not funny, Bry, I swear I have to get up half a dozen times at night to go.”

“Not much longer, sweetheart,” he replies. “Now go, I’ll round up the kids and then we’ll head out.”

* * *

Later that night, after the kids are in bed and the newest additions to our household are finally settled, I try to glare at my husband as he grins at me from his spot on his pillow. “What were you thinking, Bryson Cambridge?” I hiss out while he laughs. “Two more dogs, three more barn cats, and a goldfish that we’ll be lucky if it’s still alive in the morning?”

“Peaches is getting older, sweetheart. She’s starting to slow down, so it’s time to get some younger dogs so they can learn. Plus, there’s always room in the barn for more kitties so they don’t have to spend their lives in a cage.”

Ugh. I hate when he throws my own words back at me. Not that he does it often, but sometimes, it’s infuriating. “So, about the goldfish?”

“Ellie was so excited to win the duck game, I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

“Softy,” I mumble, grinning at him.

“Only for you and our babies,” he admits, pulling me into his arms. “Now, since the house is finally quiet, how about we have a little fun of our own?”

“You’re on, honey,” I reply, rolling into him.

* * *

As I lay there, sated, his hot breath moving my hair, I think about how far I’ve come, we’ve both come. He said it well when he said we both rose from the ashes. Life isn’t always perfect, but it’s perfect enough for both of us and that’s alright with me.

Thanks, Mom, I whisperin my head as sleep claims me. No one can convince me that she didn’t have a hand in all the beauty that is now my life. I sure as hell wouldn’t believe them, that’s for sure.

The End… although you’ll likely see Possum Run in future standalones, I have no idea when that’ll be!