Epilogue

EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR LATER: CONRAD

" W e're late," said Claire.

"We're not. We'll be fine." I checked under a cushion: nothing there either.

"We need to tag that thing, like an RFID chip." Claire turned over the same cushion I just had, then bent to peer under the sofa itself. "Let's go without it. He'll be okay, right?"

I frowned down at Davey in his bounce chair. He was smiling for now, like a little angel, but he'd been moody since he started teething. Sooner or later, he'd reach for his aardvark, and if he didn't find it, there'd be hell to pay.

"He can't have thrown it that far." Claire got down on her knees. Pressed her cheek to the floor. She exhaled, frustrated, and I couldn't help smiling. Parenthood was a lot of things, but dignified wasn't one of them. We'd learned that quickly when Davey popped out. He was born a month early, ahead of our plans, right in the middle of our move to Long Island. We hadn't set up the nursery or Claire's home office, or babyproofed anything, or fenced in the yard.

"He can't do this," howled Claire, red-faced, mid-contraction. "Tell your son no. Tell him we're not done moving."

I told her belly no, but Davey wasn't listening. He couldn't wait to come out and meet us, and he did, just two hours after Claire's labor started. He was tiny but healthy, loud and demanding, with black hair like mine and green eyes like Claire's. He had my chin too, and my mouth, and my nose, and I swelled with pride when everyone said "He looks just like you." He did, and he was beautiful, the light of my life. I held him for the first time and my heart could've burst, overflowing with love for him and for Claire. This was my family, our family. Our dream.

Our messy, noisy dream — our house was a pigsty. Claire stood up and brushed off her knees.

"I don't get it," she said. "How does he lose it? He can't even crawl yet. He sits in that bounce chair. How is he hiding it? Where the heck…"

My phone went off. I ignored it. "Retrace your steps," I said. "What were you doing?"

"Getting dressed, getting ready…" Claire plucked at her gown. "Before that, I fed him. Did he have it then?"

I thought back, trying to picture it, but last night had been my night to soothe Davey's teething pains. I'd been up with him nonstop, and now I was dozy. In my head, I could see him with his stuffed aardvark, but I could also see him without it.

"You're useless," said Claire, but she was laughing.

I groaned. "I know." I checked in the diaper bag.

"I don't think he did have it when he was eating. He had his teething ring before that, and he had it in both hands. He's still too little to hold two things at once. Would you check the nursery?"

"On it." I hurried to the nursery, and sure enough, there it was, his snooty stuffed aardvark tucked up in his crib. I snatched it up, and an extra blanket, and if we got a move on, we might still make it.

"Thank God," said Claire, when she spotted the aardvark. "Where was he this time? You know what, don't tell me. We're so late already… Have you got his blanket?"

I held up his blanket, then tossed it in the diaper bag. Then I went over and took Claire by her arms. I looked her deep in her eyes and smiled my best calming smile.

"We're not late," I said. "We're okay. We've got this. And tonight's your big night, so?—"

"My hair. Is it stupid?" She twisted around to check herself in the mirror, but I turned her back to me.

"No. You look great. And I wouldn't just say that. You're radiant. Stunning." I kissed her on her forehead to spare her lipstick, which really was perfect, just like her whole look. Verity had designed her gown just for tonight, for the launch of her new line, exclusive to Timeless. Tonight was the kickoff show, and everyone was coming, from the press, from the fashion world, and of course, from our lives. "Tonight's about you, so enjoy it, okay? I've got Davey and Snooty, so you don't need to worry. Just bask in the limelight, and know that we're cheering you on."

Claire brightened up at that, and we hurried out to the car. We settled Davey in his car seat and handed him Snooty. He loved a long drive, the calm and the movement, and we relaxed too as the driver got going. It had been chaos at first, learning to be parents, but now we had checklists. We had routines. Diaper bag. Teething ring. Extra blanket. Crazed hunt for Snooty. Out to the car. We'd talked a time or two about hiring help, but the idea never caught on. It felt right just the three of us, me and Claire there for Davey. We couldn't bear the thought of missing a moment. Of not being there for even one of his firsts.

We pulled up at the venue and my first thought was uh-oh . The doors were flung open and I could see flashing lights. I could hear music too, a loud, driving beat. I plucked Davey from his car seat and held him close to my chest.

"I can take him out of there if he gets scared. Take him for a walk maybe, down to the park."

Claire glanced at him, worried, then pulled out his earmuffs. "To protect his ears."

I fitted them on him. Davey giggled at the feel. He was staring already at the flashing lights, stretching his arms toward them, eager to see. Everything was still new to him, every sight, every sound, and it was always a crapshoot how he'd react. The first train horn he'd heard, he'd screamed and he'd screamed. His first dog, he'd taken for a giant Snooty. He'd reached out and yelled for it till it ran away. And now, his first fashion show, Davey was ready. He squirmed in my arms as we headed inside.

"He takes after you," I said. "Loves bright lights and colors."

"Or he loves loud music. Think he'll be a rock star?"

I pictured Davey at eighteen in long hair and leather, young girls screaming as he banged on his drums. Davey on tour. Changing his name to… D-man? I lifted his earmuff to whisper in his ear.

"Don't be a rock star. It's not as fun as it sounds."

Davey thumped his hands on my arm like a drummer. From the day of his birth, he'd taken no as a challenge. An invitation to do it anyway. I'd have to be careful when he got older, careful how I warned him off hazards like… drums.

Verity glided up to us, radiant in her own gown, and seized Claire's hands. "Oh, you look stunning!"

"Thanks. You as well."

"I thought we'd do the catwalk to finish the show. Walk out, just the two of us, and show off our gowns."

Claire glanced down at herself. "Oh, I don't know…"

"Come on. You'll be perfect." Verity pulled her away. "Tell her, Conrad."

"You'll be gorgeous," I said.

They fluttered away in a bright cloud of fabric, and the show got started. Davey was transfixed. I wasn't sure how much he could see at his age, but he gazed at the show like a cat at a fish tank, cooing at the models in their layered summer silks. Every look that came out, his eyes just got rounder, and he wriggled in my arms, trying to get closer. Then Claire came out, and both our jaws dropped. She was glorious, perfect, in her fitted gown, her skirts sweeping around her in a colorful blur. Her hair caught the light, rich, vibrant copper, and I couldn't wait to hold her and feel it flow through my fingers. Couldn't wait to tell her how gorgeous she'd been. How gorgeous she always was, and always would be.

"There's your mommy," I said.

Davey reached for her. Claire bent and reached down, and I handed him up, and applause swelled as she held him and spun him. I could've burst in that moment, from pure joy and pride: this was my family. This was my life. Everything a man could want, and I was the lucky one.

"I love you," I whispered, and of course Claire didn't hear me. Of course she couldn't, over the roar of the crowd. But she caught my eye anyway and kissed Davey's sweet head, and mouthed the same back to me, I love you .

I love you.

The End