Epilogue

I t was an unusual situation; we hardly ever had the house to ourselves. There was a lot we could have accomplished when it was empty like this and we had an unscheduled block of time. We could have straightened up the kitchen, for example, or worked on the gutters, which was a chore we’d been putting off. We could have painted the metal railings next to the front steps or done a few loads of laundry.

But when the door had closed and Danny had locked it, we’d looked at each other and then he’d pushed me against the wall, kissing me. Then he’d started to pull off my clothes. Now, I was on my knees in front of one of our kitchen chairs. I swirled my tongue and he moaned, and his legs on either side of me trembled. I’d really honed my oral skills…

“Sophie, come here right now,” he told me hoarsely.

I licked my way over his erection and slid up his body, rubbing against him. He watched, his eyes a little glazed, as I settled on his lap, and his hands went to my breasts. He bent and enclosed one nipple in his mouth and I held his head there, and I moaned, too.

“Fuck,” he said, and lifted my hips to drive himself inside me. He massaged my clit as he did, and then—

“No matter what I do, I never last as long as I plan,” my husband said against my neck. His arms were locked around me, holding us together. I wasn’t going anywhere, anyway.

“I didn’t last very long, either,” I said. “I won’t ever, if you touch me like that. And I thought it was perfect.”

He picked up his head and kissed me, and that deepened and lasted a while. “You’re always a fan.”

“Except for the chocolate sauce,” I reminded him, which was something he would never live down. He’d dribbled it over me on our last anniversary (the sixth) and while the licking had been great, after a while, there was just so much…no human could have removed that quantity of dessert topping using only his tongue. We’d ended up in the shower together, though, and that had been amazing. Danny was so skilled with a loofah.

“Mm,” he murmured, and nibbled at my ear. “We could go upstairs and try the—what was that?”

I lifted up my head. “A car, but—”

“That’s our garage door,” he said, and jumped to his feet. Since we were still attached and his hands were now holding my butt, I went with him.

“Oof—what are you doing? Danny!”

He was running, that was what he was doing, right up the stairs and into our bedroom. “Shh!” he told me.

“Sophie?” a voice called.

“She’s…in the shower,” Danny yelled back. “What’s up, Esme?”

“The twins forgot their swim bags again,” she answered. We both heard her disgusted sigh. “We’re going to be late to practice.”

“No, you still have plenty of time,” he said. “Tell Aunt Brenna not to drive too fast on the way to the pool.”

“She won’t,” I whispered. If Brenna pushed a little too hard on the accelerator, Esme would let her know. She was very, very careful with her younger cousins. With the way they were growing up together, living just across the street and moving between the houses, they treated each other more like siblings. Except they didn’t ever get into physical fights, which may have happened a few times with me and my sisters.

“Mommy? Daddy?” Nicola called. She was the little Nicola in our family, named after her aunt who had done so much for all of us. We mostly called her Nika to differentiate, in case anyone was confused between a grown woman and a four-year-old girl.

“Holy Mary, they’re all here?” Danny muttered. “Hi, baby. Go back to the car with your brother! Buckle up.”

We listened to some scuffling downstairs. “I found the bags but I don’t hear the shower. Where’s Sophie?” Esme asked suspiciously.

“I forgot that she went to yoga,” Danny said, just as I called, “I’m getting dressed!Have a good swim practice!”

There was silence downstairs until Esme wondered, “Why are you hiding?” Fortunately, Brenna honked her horn in the garage and it echoed through the house.

The kids scurried out as we called that we loved them. Then we listened to the garage door close again.

“Next Saturday, we’re going to give ourselves a safety buffer and wait for a while before we start this,” I informed my husband.

“Or, we can make sure they bring their damn bags, and we can start right away,” he said. “I don’t like to wait when you’re right there, so beautiful.”

“Thank you. It is hard to wait,” I agreed. The years of marriage, which had followed our Brenna-designed wedding, hadn’t really dimmed our enthusiasm for each other. Like, I saw him and he was just so cute…

“Oh, that’s good,” he breathed, as I bit his neck and massaged myself against him. “Yeah, that’s good. We’re going to make it to the bed this time.”

We did, barely, and then afterwards, we lay panting. Danny turned his head to look at me. “You’re all red.”

“And you need to shave,” I answered. But I really loved his whiskers in the morning. I just really loved him, so I rolled over to get closer.

He adjusted me so that I was in an optimal cuddling position. “It’s a little late to ask, but are you sure about this? If it works, there will be a pretty big age gap between our kids.”

“There’s eight years between me and Grace, and I don’t mind her much.”

“You love her.”

“I do,” I agreed. “And if we have another baby, Esme and the twins will also love him or her.”

“It could be him and her. That happened once and it could again,” he reminded me.

“We’ll make Patrick babysit. He won’t mind.” It hadn’t been easy, but my brother had evolved into a great single dad, and a great single uncle. It turned out that he was also great at being married, an event that we’d celebrated last year. It had taken him a while to find someone, but he and his new wife were happy, and Esme liked her, too. I’d known that it would work when he’d brought his then-girlfriend to meet us for the first time.

“Did you choose the color of Patrick’s house?” she’d asked, and when I’d nodded, she’d smiled. “I love it!” My brother had bought it from me a few years before, but the neighbors had convinced him not to repaint. It made the street brighter, they’d decided, just like all the kids did.

“You know, you make me brighter.”

“What?” Danny picked up his head and smiled at me. “Did you say I make you brighter?”

“Yes. You make me feel like the sun is shining, every day.” I paused. “Is that too much?”

“It’s perfect,” he said.

Maybe not exactly perfect—after all, our gutters were still a mess. But then Danny kissed me, and I knew that I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Things were heating up, in fact, but he broke away. “Is that the garage door again?” he asked.

Holy Mary. “Yes, it is.”

“Mommy? Daddy?” a boy’s voice called from the kitchen. “I forgot to wear my bathing suit.”

Danny got up and found some pants. “Stay right there,” he said, pointing at me. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Good. I stretched out beneath the sheets. I wasn’t done either, not by a longshot. I had a life that I hadn’t even let myself dream about and honestly, it was a little stunning. How had it happened? How had I ended up with a job I enjoyed, a house I loved, a car that mostly worked, kids who forgot to wear their suits, and a husband like Danny? It hadn’t come out of the blue, like a coconut falling from the sky. It had taken years of work and dedication, perseverance and love. There was lots, and lots, and lots of love.

“Sophie, I can’t find his suit,” my husband called.

“I need to go to the bathroom again,” my daughter shouted.

“We’re going to be late!” Esme yelled, and Brenna honked her horn.

I got up and found pants of my own. “I’m coming,” I said.

They needed me, and I needed them. Yes, it was perfect, even with the railing that needed paint, and the loads of laundry. Even with the gutters.

“Mommy!”

All of it, always.