by Freya Barker
When the first tear rolls down his cheek—my own well ahead of his—I wrap my arms around his head, pulling him to my shoulder. There is nothing to say, but so much to feel.
Griffin nudges my leg with his nose, no clue what to make of us, I’m sure, but eventually lies back down. I don’t really know how long we sit like that, having lost all concept of time, when Jared suddenly lifts me up and off his lap.
Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out his phone, dials, and puts it to his ear.
“Hey, Pipsqueak. Guess what?”
Maybe I should be upset he dumps me so unceremoniously, before calling his sister, but I can’t. Not with the brilliant smile he’s wearing on his face.
“I’m gonna be a father.” Jordy can be heard screaming, even from where I’m sitting, and I swear I can see his chest puff up.
“Of course it’s Mia’s.” He looks irritated now and I choke back a snort. I know exactly what his sister asked. He touches his phone and suddenly I can hear Jordy’s voice.
“...is that even possible? I thought she couldn’t have kids?”
This time I don’t hold back, I throw my head back and laugh. Jared turns to me with a cocky smile.
“I know,” he says, winking at me. “But it’s clear nothing can hold back the Enforcer’s little soldiers.”
EPILOGUE
Jared
It’s hot already. Not even seven and already the sweat is beading on my forehead. It’ll be a scorcher. I best finish that sprinkler system before Mia’s vegetables shrivel up.
I’d cleared half an acre of trees from the back of the house, two years ago, to make room for a greenhouse. A place where she could start seeding before the frost cleared the ground, and a large raised garden where she could grow.
She had little time to water by hand this year, not with a new puppy to tend to, so I promised her to put an irrigation system in. After all, it was me who’d brought the little critter home. Poor Griffin will probably never forgive me; he’s still not used to having the little bundle of energy around.
“Daddy, what do I do now?”
I turn to JT, who apparently has a fish on the line. Jon Thomas Kesla was born on a beautiful May morning, a little over four years ago. When I found him beside our bed at five this morning and asked why he was out of bed so early, he announced he wanted to catch a fish. It’s his cousin, and best friend, Ole’s birthday today and he’s dead set on catching him a fish for his birthday. Ever since Ole caught his first meal-sized fish off my boat earlier in the spring, JT has been itching to catch his own.
“Come here, Buddy.” I sit down behind him and scoot up, my legs either side of him and my arms bracketing him in. I carefully put my hands over his little ones and gently pull back on the rod. “Feels like a good one, kid.”
“You do it,” he says, trying to pull his hands out from under mine.
“No way. This is your fish, you’re gonna have to bring him in. I’m just lending you my muscles until yours grow big enough.”
“Ole’s muscles are big enough,” he says wistfully and I bite back a smile. Ole certainly inherited the Kesla male genes. Thank God for small favours. With Jordy the runt of the litter, and his sperm donor a tiny weasel, Ole is promising to be a bruiser. True to the nickname I gave him when he was just born.
“Ole is a year older, Buddy. You’ll catch up with him yet, just you wait,” I tell him as I take a firmer hold on the fishing rod. “You ready to bring this fish home?”
“‘Kay.” He doesn’t sound too sure, but he spreads his short legs and braces for battle, like a good little sport.
By the time we finally pull the nice-sized bass onto the dock, JT’s ant-sized attention span has already run its course.
“Mommy!” he yells, dropping the rod and running toward the house, his small feet slapping on the dock. I keep my eye on him, praying Punk, the new puppy, doesn’t trip him up.
Mia has the sliding door open before JT has a chance to start pounding on it, something he’s taken to doing despite our many warnings. She braces herself as both boy and dog barrel into her legs.
The soft smile, the one she only shares with her ‘boys,’ the two-legged and four-legged ones alike, lights her face.
Mia
I blow Jared a kiss, before turning my attention to the Energizer bunny hanging off my legs.
The only time I’ve seen my son relatively quiet is when he’s out with his father. The same calming effect Jared has always had on me, seems to be working on JT as well. He keeps me on my toes, though. Something I’m actually quite grateful for.
Since he was born, I’ve not had a single panic attack. It’s the weirdest thing, but even as a baby, he would demand my attention the moment I felt any of the early warning signs.
I’ll never be one to enjoy going to the mall, a concert, or climb on a train or an airplane, but I’m much better with the more mundane things like grocery shopping. I don’t go to every Colts’ home game, but I try to go a few every season.
“Wanna come see my fish?” JT smiles up at me. He’s still in his PJs, and it’s clear his hair hasn’t seen a brush yet, but his father is in much the same state, as am I. We’re a pretty laid back bunch, and during the summer, often don’t bother getting dressed at all, other than maybe in a bathing suit.
I ruffle my hand through his hair. “I’d love to see your fish. Are you gonna help Daddy clean it?” I ask, grabbing his hand and closing the door behind me.
“Yucky. It’s smelly.” The one thing my son and I are equal in. Normally it’s catch and release here, so we’re mostly spared the yucky cleaning, but this one is special.
“Morning.” I smile at Jared, who leans his head back for a kiss, when I touch him on the shoulder.
“Morning, Beautiful. Did you by chance grab your phone? I left mine inside.”
“Sure did.” I pull my phone from the pocket of my kimono and open the camera app.
“Are you ready, Buddy?” Jared asks him, and both of us have to bite our lip not to burst out laughing at JT’s scrunched up face.
Jared has to help him hold up the large fish while I snap a few pictures.
“Can we wrap it up now?” JT asks, wiping his fishy hands on his PJ’s which elicits a groan from me. Jared on the other hand, throws his head back and his carefree laugh bounces across the bay.
“What’s funny?!!” Jordy yells from her perch on the brand new dock across the water.
-
Last year, after living in Bracebridge with John, for a couple of years, my sister-in-law finally married the man. He’d actually come over one night and cleared his plans with Jared. It instantly dissolved any lingering doubts Jared may have had.
But a marriage proposal was not the only thing he’d come over to discuss. He also wanted to talk to me. He brought with him a rough, but very good drawing of the house he was hoping to build his bride. Right where my cottage stood.
It had been mostly empty since Jordy moved out, and the only time it was used was when Steffie, Doug, and the kids came up the odd weekend and a few weeks in the summer. But I still had to swallow hard, until I saw the look on Jared’s face.
I transferred the property in a private sale, and although it was the second spring in the past five years that I’d waken up to the noise of heavy machinery, I was thrilled when the house was finally built.
True to the original cottage, this is a log home, at least on the outside. Unlike the original, this house is substantially bigger, with room for an expanding family. Something they were already working on by the time they moved in July of last year.
Jared and I got married in a quiet ceremony in Gravenhurst, right after our first Christmas together. No fuss, no muss—much as we live our day-to-day life.
It’s not all been a smooth path, and I feel every bump, but with each one we hit and moved beyond, I feel stronger—more alive.
No longer hiding in fear.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am a
lways blessed with a contingent of fantastic people who help me bring a book to the point of publication.
There are names you will find in most every single book I’ve released thus far, simply because they share a common love of the written word, and they are as loyal to me as I am to them.
Thank you to my editor Karen Hrdlicka, my Alpha reader Natalie Weston, my proofreader Joanne Thompson and my fantastic Betas, who are always eager to pick over my latest manuscript.
Ahhh and you, my readers. I am so humbled by your ongoing, and in some cases new, appreciation for my books. I’m grateful for your word of mouth, which sends new readers in my direction with every subsequent release.
My gratitude always to my PA Natalie Weston who looks after me, and let me assure you that she works very hard to keep me on the straight and narrow.
To Ena Burnette and her team at Enticing Journeys, as well as the numerous bloggers, who have made sure that my past few releases have reached you, the readers.
As always a big loving thanks my family who suffer through my writing madness with me. They make sure I’m reminded there’s an entire world outside of my imagination.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Freya Barker inspires with her stories about 'real’ people, perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy. She is the author of the Cedar Tree Series and the Portland, ME, novels.
Freya currently has two complete series published, and is working on two new series; the Snapshot series, and Northern Lights. She continues to spin story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!
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