Epilogue

Manny

(Many, many, many years in the future)

“Who would’ve thought all those years ago when I stopped in Possum Run on a whim because I liked the name that we’d have such a beautiful life?” she asks, gazing out at our family surrounding us.

It’s our seventieth wedding anniversary and while the past few years have been hard health wise, our kids, grandkids, and even great grandkids have been by our side. Seeing how the whole family came together to do this for us has me holding back my tears. I’ve apparently become an emotional old man in my dotage, as our oldest daughter constantly reminds me any time she spies me tearing up.

“Who would’ve thought that a tiny, curly-headed sprite would unharden my heart enough that I could give her this life?” I reply, leaning over to kiss her.

“Ten kids, Manny. Ten,” she whispers, giggling a little. She’s had a few glasses of champagne, something I know she shouldn’t be drinking due to her cardiac problems, but how many people live long enough to celebrate seventy years of marriage?

And they’ve been good years. Sure, there were some tough times, especially since we had two sets of twins rather close together, followed by five hard years of miscarriages, then five single births. But the farmhouse had plenty of room for all the laughter, yelling, tears, and teenage drama that ensued as we raised our brood.

“Closer to twenty if you count the ones who weren’t born,” I softly reply. We lost two sets of twins, then had two stillbirths, plus she had four miscarriages before we ever met.

“No wonder my poor hips never fully recovered,” she teases.

“Sweetheart, you never changed a bit.”

“Now I know the eye doctor screwed up when he did your cataract surgery.” She giggles some more. “Because I’ve gone up two pant sizes since then.”

“You could’ve gone up thirty sizes and I’d love you the same,” I tell her. “Because you’ll always fit into my arms.”

“Grandpa, you can’t say something like that!” Stella, our youngest granddaughter states. “There are little kids around.”

I chuckle then say, “Stella, if that’s the worst they’ve heard with our family here tonight, they can count themselves lucky.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Grammy, you shouldn’t be drinking.”

Stella is a doctor, although she’s not ours. However, that being said, she watches the two of us like a hawk.

“I only had two, dear heart,” Ricci replies.

Fibber. She’s had four. But I’ve never denied my wife whatever her heart desires, and I refuse to start now. If she doesn’t deserve to drink champagne after the two of us have accomplished this milestone, I don’t know who does.

“Okay, but just saying, no more after you finish that glass,” Stella retorts before winking at me. Yeah, our girl knows.

* * *

Our ‘nanny’ as Ricci calls her has just finished settling us into bed for the night. After my quadruple bypass surgery then Ricci’s near-fatal heart attack, the only way the family would let us live on our own was if we allowed a live-in nurse, at least at night, since we both refused to go into an assisted living facility. We both have those ridiculous life alert buttons too, but if it gives our kids peace of mind, so be it.

“Do you want to watch that movie you enjoy?” I ask.

“Which one? There are so many, you know.”

“The one that always makes you cry at the end. The kids who meet as teens, are separated, then she comes back? It was based on a book, remember?”

“You mean The Notebook?” she questions.

“Yes, that’s the one,” I reply. “Even though you always sob.”

“It’s a beautiful love story.”

“Our love story is my favorite one of all,” I tell her, flipping through the channels until I find the correct station. “Now, come closer and let me hold you.”

As she curls into me, she whispers against my neck, “Ours is my favorite as well.”

* * *

Looking around, I realize I’m somewhere I’ve never been before except one time, years ago during my open-heart surgery. A sense of peace washes over me then I hear, “Mijo!”

Turning, I see my mama, her smile just as radiant as it was so many years ago. I pull her into a hug while she murmurs about how much she’s missed me.

“Mama? Why am I here again?” I ask as several people I don’t recognize move toward me. I can see my grandad, as well as my Uncle Jorge and Aunt Juanita in the distance as well.

“You must be our button’s young beau,” the man says as he approaches, holding out his hand for me to shake.

The woman next to him, who bears a striking resemblance to Ivy, lightly taps his arm. “Honey, he doesn’t know who you are.” Turning toward me, she smiles and says, “We’re Ricci’s parents, Mama and Papa B.”

If I had to choose one word to depict the way I feel right now it would be stunned. While I never doubted Ricci’s experiences as she described them, never did I anticipate having her family show up in my own dream. Maybe there was something wrong with the enchiladas and this is just a bad reaction.

“It’s not a reaction, Manny,” Mama says. “We’ve been waiting for a very long time now.”

I can’t catch my breath when I process what she’s saying. “No, Mama! I can’t leave her alone. She’s my everything. This will kill her if what you’re implying is true. Please wake up, Manny, wake yourself up, dammit!”

Several small children appear next to Mama and Papa B, and they look so much like my beloved Ricci that I instinctively know they’re the babies she lost long ago. But when I see four more sidle up to my mama, then spy Luci, my precious sister, walking over to our group, I fall to my knees in despair, wailing out my grief and anguish.

“Manny Alvarez, why are you kneeling on the ground?”

Her voice wafts over me, melodious yet gentle. Turning my head slightly, I see her, my Ricci, walking to my side.

“Because I thought I had gone without you, sweetheart,” I admit.

“One of the reasons I always cried watching that movie was because I didn’t want to live without you and knew you felt the same way. We started a second chapter together over seventy years ago, now it’s time to spend eternity with our loved ones while we wait for the others. Are you ready?” she asks.

Even the children we lost wait to hear my answer as I regain my feet to truly look at everyone surrounding me. My mama? Doesn’t look like she did when she passed from her earthly life. No, she’s middle-aged again, healthy and whole. It’s the same with Luci, who appears just as she did the year before she started dating Turo. The child who clings to her is the niece I never got to meet on Earth. None of the children now surrounding us are infants; they’re all around five years old or so, almost as if God Himself allowed them to be the perfect age.

And when I look at the most precious one of all, my Ricci? I see she’s not white headed with small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth from all the years of laughing and loving, she’s just as she looked when we first met. Gazing at my own weathered body, I see that the muscles that had begun to atrophy due to lack of use are no more; instead, I’m as muscular and virile as I was in my own middle age.

Taking her hand in mine and lacing our fingers together, I draw her closer then kiss her. “What do you say we meet our children?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she teases. “Thank you for a beautiful life, Manny Alvarez. I’m so glad I started over with you.”

The End