Like a Fox (23 page)

Epilogue

I’m met by silence as I enter the front door of my home. I routinely place my purse on the entryway table and slide off my shoes.

It’s a warm summer day, so before heading into the backyard I get a glass of sun tea I had made only yesterday.

I drift outside and instantly smile. My husband is sitting on a bench, complete seriousness in his face and arms crossed over his chest.

My five-year-old son is squirming next to him, trying his best to imitate his father, crossing his arms then looking over to make sure it matches perfectly to his dad. He tries to maintain the same straight-faced look but his brows scowl too much, making him appear angry and it causes his lips to purse out.

I hold in a giggle.

They are both watching my three-year-old daughter twirl and leap for them in her pink tutu. She believes she’s a ballerina and will put on a show for anybody willing to watch, which happens to always be her favorite person: her dad. Her light brown hair is pulled up into the bun she had me do this morning, except the day has worn on and loose strands stick to her face and neck, her cheeks rosy from the heat and movement of her body.

She extends a leg back, balancing on one foot, arms extended out. This is always her finishing move. She doesn’t smile, taking it all far too seriously for a three-year-old that is usually giggling her way through life.

Her father claps, and it’s then that she beams, smiling over at him with complete adoration. In return he smiles with no teeth; he saves that for special occasions or extreme moments of happiness.

He claps louder, knowing how happy it makes her, “Very good, Isabella.”

“Watch it again!” She breathlessly exclaims, leaping around once more.

I take a sip of my drink, the ice clinking in the glass and drawing attention to my presence. The three heads turn, take me in, and on que all smile at the same time, their teeth showing to accommodate the wide stretch. It makes my heart feel like it might burst with happiness and love for them.

Vic stands to welcome me, giving me a gentle kiss on the lips, “Welcome home my beautiful wife.”

“Momma, come look what I made.” Alexander tugs on my hand, drawing me back inside the home I love so much. Even after all these years I still want to pinch myself that it’s mine and that my children get to be raised and grow up here.

Alexander and Isabella show me the food they have prepared for the barbeque we are having this evening. They even drove all the way to San Francisco today just to get the chocolate cake I love that can only be bought at a bakery there.

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” I gush, aiming a finger towards the frosting.

Vic scoops it away, giving me a peck on the cheek, “Of course we did.”

I’ve come to learn that Vic is a spoiler. I have no complaints, especially because he spoils me with devotion more than he does with possessions, which would mean nothing without the former of the two.

I make a big fuss over all that they have prepared while I was at work, giving extra “oohs” and “ahhs” to the things I know the children helped with.

People slowly begin to arrive as we are pulling everything out of the refrigerator and moving them to the island in our kitchen.

First are my parents, my mom making sure they are never late out of respect for Vic, who greatly appreciates it. Vic and my dad are finally on good terms. At first my dad had stayed on guard, worried that more was to come. I think we all secretly did. Vic had to reassure me countless times nobody was looking for him anymore, my father was “dead” and long forgotten.

Vic still works for Cole Private Bank and Trust. Most of what he does for Ben he can’t talk about and I respect that. I trust he would never let it reach our family. Vic is fiercely protective over us. When Alexander was a toddler, Chloe’s baby snatched a toy from his hands, making him cry. Vic looked like he was going to murder her and I had to explain that that’s how babies and toddlers are. From then on Vic avoided playdates. His natural instinct to interfere when he feels one of his kids is being messed with is too strong.

My sister arrives next with Flynn and their two-year-old son, Max. They haven’t married and don’t intend to. They are happy with their relationship as it is and don’t feel the need to alter it. I’m proud of them for doing what works best for them. They are committed and still completely smitten with the other. It’s beautiful to watch how Flynn can calm and tame my sister with just a hand placed somewhere on her. In fact, I had him in the labor room with me both times because he was the only one I didn’t want to punch for reminding me to breathe. I guess all of us Brennans need him to keep us from quickly freaking out.

Liza and her husband follow behind. They married this past spring. They had been working together for almost eight years, but both were too shy to ask the other out. I truly think he’s a perfect match for her. A bonus is that he’s not at all bothered by Vic’s aloofness. He’s more on the shy side, so I think he appreciates that Vic doesn’t try to make small talk.

Chloe and Keith arrive next, their daughter in tow.

We all greet each other with excitement, even though we pretty much do this at least twice a month.

On a side note, business at the café is booming. Some celebrity had stated how she only reads paperbacks, so now it’s a super-posh, cool thing to do. My mom’s enjoying the ride while it lasts. Vikki comes to visit all the time, mostly to spoil our kids who she adores and doesn’t try to hide it. She still pretends she doesn’t like me, just like I do her. It’s kind of become our thing.

All in all I have no complaints, but there’s always room for a new adventure – even if it means something as simple as taking a long drive and purposely getting lost. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since Vic, it’s that life isn’t meant to be mediocre. Find what and who brings you to life and give it everything you have. I promise the payoff will be nothing short of amazing.

Also By J.M. Sevilla:

Beginnings

Marked. Part I: The missing Link

Marked. Part II: Becoming Noah Baxter

When To Let Go

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