Page 45

EPILOGUE

LIAM

Jessica says a sleepy, “Good morning,” when I come in from my run. With her insomnia gone, lately, it seems like she’s making up for lost time.

KJ is not a professional sleeper in his big boy bed, and when I checked he and Ranger were already awake.

He recently had the first cochlear surgery to enhance his ability to hear alongside speech therapy, and has his own language with Ranger—they’re best buddies. He also has loads of friends at nursery school and is perfectly at home with his cousins.

Holding a mug of coffee aloft, I pass it to Jessica as she sits up in bed and kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. I’m going to hit the shower. Big day today.”

“I’m shocked KJ isn’t in here bouncing on the bed with anticipation.”

He was telling Ranger about the party.

She chuckles and we spend the next couple of hours preparing for the gathering. It would’ve been perfect if we could’ve done it halfway between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, but we’re well into summer and didn’t want to wait any longer now that we wrapped things up with the Coogan’s and Jessica signed the adoption paperwork.

We have a pinata, pin the tail on the donkey, and lots of mini Bundt cakes.

Dolly and my parents are the first to arrive, followed by my siblings, with a slow filtering in of the guys and their families from the team.

KJ and Ranger race around with all the kids and I bring Jessica another coffee but notice she doesn’t drink it. Maybe she’s less of a caffeine fiend now that she’s been sleeping better.

We insisted that guests don’t bring gifts, but there is something special that I want to present to Dolly. Along with Redd, Hayden, Pierre, Mikey, Grady, ‘Bama, and a few others, I say and sign that there’s a surprise for her.

Taken aback, she plants her hand on her chest then signs, “Me?”

Jessica bounces on her toes as I reveal a large, flat, wrapped rectangle.

Her eyes widen as she tears the paper and sees a framed team photo with all of our signatures. On a little plaque along the bottom, it says, We’re your number one fan! At the end of the season, she gave us each a handmade Knights fleece blanket. This prompted Jessica and me to make good on a promise.

In thanks, Dolly hugs each one of us. As she moves down the line, I realize that she’s surreptitiously testing everyone’s abs. This gets me laughing and when she reaches me, I get a long hug. When she pulls away, she signs, “You have the best abs.” Then she pats me on the cheek before she and Grannie Bell disappear—probably to discuss the abs investigation and nibble on some fudge my grandmother smuggled in from Canada.

Jessica glows among the children, showing them how to play a balloon game. The second she’s done, and the chaos begins, I lace my arm around her waist, drawing her out of the fray.

Hendrix sidles over and lifts his drink, hesitating as if conflicted before saying, “My genuine well wishes to the happy couple.”

I narrow my eyes.

Jessica, likely not privy to my sense that my brother knew our marriage was originally for convenience, innocently asks, “Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re the real deal.”

She winks.

He swishes his mouth from side to side. “I’m still considering payback. Soggy skates. Lumpy oatmeal. Missing keys,” he says, naming different pranks we’ve played on each other over the years.

I explain a few to my wife.

Hendrix blurts, “Glue.”

My eyebrow arches. “Glue? What do you mean glue?”

He chuckles.

Jessica, as smiley as ever today, wears one that’s different from the others I’ve seen. It’s almost, dare I say, mischievous. “Hendrix, I’d be careful. I’ve lived with a dozen families, meaning I have a deep bag of party tricks to draw from.”

The family goofball’s eyes widen. “You mean pranks?”

She takes my hand and leads me away from the group. In a low voice, she says, “What are the rules?”

“Remember? We don’t have those anymore.”

“No, I mean in your family for pranks.”

A smile slides across my face. “Jessica, are you a private prankster?”

She shimmies a little.

“What else don’t I know about you?”

“That I like when you call me Jessica. Everyone calls me Jess and when you use my full name, I feel like I’m all yours. That it’s our special thing.”

“You are special.” I dust my nose with hers but before we can press our mouths together, we’re bombarded with balloons.

* * *

The party was a hit and KJ and Ranger are curled up in bed, totally wiped out. Jessica looks a little tired herself and I lead her from the kitchen where she’s putting some things away to the living room.

“Sit.”

She tilts her head and lifts an eyebrow.

“Please.”

She does so and I bring her feet into my lap, rubbing them.

“Oh. I could get used to this. Thank you.” She moans a little as I get a good spot on her heel.

Lying on the couch, she says, “I’m glad I no longer live with the fear that everyone is going to leave me. That I need to play a role in order to be loved and that you’re not burdened with the belief that you weren’t worthy of a relationship and had to focus only on hockey. You can have both. Hockey and me.”

Her candor surprises me. “I love you. Always will.”

She sits up and asks, “When did you start liking me?”

I think about this for a moment. “The Bundt cake.”

“One taste and you were hooked? Good to know.”

“No, when your phone auto-corrected to butt cake.”

She laughs. “Good to know I got you with humor.”

“Actually, it may have been in line at the Busy Bee.”

“I’m quite sure you hated me from the start.”

I correct, “I hated myself. Not you. Jessica, I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

She slides next to me on the couch and rests her head on the little crook between my arm and chest. After a moment, she sniffles. “I never cried in front of people before you, the guy most people would’ve assumed didn’t tolerate tears.”

“I don’t … except yours. And KJ’s, but I’m glad I could help.”

“You helped me too.”

“To cry? Says the guy with one feeler.”

“Like antennae?”

She giggles.

“I feel lots of things, especially for you.”

A long sigh escapes, lifting and lowering my chest.

“I thought we were too different.”

I nod. “Optimistic versus cynical.”

“Surly versus sunny.”

I say, “Maybe some of your infectious enthusiasm and warmth rubbed off on me.”

“Maybe we complement each other.”

“Just don’t start shoving people into Plexiglass.”

“I am learning to skate.”

I chuckle. “Terror on blades.”

“I can’t imagine had I married Rexlan. Every day with you is like the first day of the rest of my life.”

I squeeze her close.

She says, “Are we going to tell our kids we met because I had to pee?”

A low, rumbling laugh rips through me. Getting to my feet, I help Jessica to hers. “I got you something.”

“Me?”

I lead her to a shelf holding a box with a bow. Jessica unwraps it to reveal a record player.

She jumps up and down. “This is so thoughtful. Thank you.”

I get a big hug and then she puts on a record. It’s an older band, maybe from the fifties or sixties, but I recognize the first song from our wedding.

“Can I have this dance?” I ask.

She beams a smile and we slow dance in the living room. The stars in the sky glint off the glass and dapple the wood floor with shimmers.

When the song changes, Jessica leans back and says, “I got you something too.”

Both my eyebrows lift.

She bites her lip, trying to suppress her smile, then she squishes up her face as if barely able to contain herself. “I mean, technically, it’s for both of us. KJ too. Like, could be for all of humanity or at least the NHL. You just never know.”

Slowly, I say, “Jessica, what is it?”

She takes my hand and presses it against her belly.

“Don’t tell me you started an account #MrsDarcysAbs.”

She laughs.

My jaw drops. “That’s why you haven’t been drinking so much coffee. That’s why you’re glowing.”

She nods.

I wrap my arms around her, around the mother to our baby and KJ, around my wife, and whisper, “I love you.”

She signs back the same and adds, “And your family.”

“Our family.” Then, with what’s sure to be a twinkle in my eye, I say, “Just wait until Christmas.”