by Alice Ward
Detective Dickson cleared his throat. “Susannah checked herself into a mental facility this afternoon,” he explained. “I spoke with her mother, who told me Susannah’s had a very difficult time adjusting to life in a new city. For a while, she seemed to be doing better. Then, a little less than a year ago, she became withdrawn again.”
“She did better after we became friends,” Ethan explained. “She backslid when I moved to Portland.”
Dickson nodded. “My guess is that she got even worse once she found out Ethan was involved with you, Emily.”
I sat silent, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. I couldn’t.
“I pushed you at her over Christmas,” I remembered out loud. “I actually asked you to spend time with that terrible woman. I can’t believe she’s responsible… but this doesn’t make sense. If she wanted me out of the way, there were tons of things she could have done that didn’t involve endangering an innocent child.”
“Alfie was never supposed to be involved,” Ethan explained, nearly choking on his words. His eyes were watery, but his jaw was locked.
“When the Dallas PD interrogated Rhoads, he swore up and down that he’d never heard of Alfie or any of the Hollis’s,” Dickson explained. “Later, when he confessed and gave up Susannah, he explained the full story. Susannah broke into your classroom to learn more about you. When she found the snacks in your drawer and saw a list of allergy cautions, she assumed you were the one with the allergies. You were always the target; Alfie was an innocent bystander.”
“Do the Hollis’s know all of this?” I asked, barely able to breathe let alone ask the question, but I needed to know.
Dickson nodded. “I went to their house this afternoon and explained everything. They’re relieved Kelvin and Susannah have been caught. But I doubt they’ll be letting their kids out of sight anytime soon.”
“I don’t blame them,” I agreed, thinking of that sweet little boy. “So Susannah tried to kill me?”
Ethan nodded, his jaw still tight. “I’m so sorry, Emily.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Ethan,” Walt assured him. “You didn’t realize Susannah was so troubled.”
“I know,” Ethan agreed. “But if something had happened to Emily… I don’t know what I would have done.”
“It’s a good thing we pretended to break up,” I realized out loud. “If we hadn’t, she probably would have made another move after her first attempt didn’t work.”
The detective nodded. “We’re lucky the Dallas PD caught up to Rhoads when they did. He was supposed to meet with Susannah tomorrow to discuss the next job she had for him.”
“What happens to them now?” I asked.
“That depends on the Hollis family, to an extent,” Frank broke in. “As the parents of the victim, the prosecutor will take their feelings into account before brokering any plea deals.”
Dickson nodded. “I don’t think they found any comfort in the fact that Alfie wasn’t the intended target. But I imagine they’ll agree to a certain amount of bargaining to avoid a trial. The prosecutor will likely offer to let Susannah serve her sentence at a mental health ward in exchange for a guilty plea.”
“I don’t know about the Hollis’s, but I’d be okay with that. I hate what she put us through, and I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her. But if she’s sick, she deserves treatment.”
“That’s very big of you, Miss Kinkaid,” Dickson told me.
Walt cleared his throat. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
The detective shook his head. “Not at the moment. I’ll keep you updated on the prosecution, but this investigation is officially closed. Miss Kinkaid, you are officially free to come and go from Portland as you please. Mr. McAlister, good luck on Sunday. We’re all counting on you to bring home a win.”
***
“I can’t believe these amazing seats,” Linda gushed, staring down at the field. “And look at Melissa over there in the middle of everything.”
I followed Linda’s gaze and spotted our friend. The hottest boy band in the country had just played the Super Bowl halftime show, and Melissa was interviewing them on the sidelines.
“You and Ethan giving her that interview was the best thing that ever happened for her career,” Linda continued. “You know she has national networks calling her?”
I nodded. “She deserves it. She’s fantastic at her job.”
As promised, Melissa was the only reporter Ethan and I spoke to after the truth came out. We sat down with her the morning before we left Portland, and her station aired the segment that evening. Within an hour, the parent affiliate called and requested Melissa cover the game. It was her first national broadcast, and she was killing it.
“Melissa’s not the only one,” Walt broke in. “Ethan is on fire tonight. If the defense can get their heads out of their asses, the Stallions are going to take this. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m having the time of my life. And I’m so damn proud of him.”
Watching my uncle take such pride in Ethan was the cherry on top of what was quickly becoming my perfect life. Ethan and I had faced hell together and come out stronger on the other side. But it wasn’t just our relationship that thrived. Everyone I knew was happy. Walt was more at peace than I’d ever seen him. He and Claudia were shopping for a new home, and they were both helping Ethan and me plan our wedding. Henry was finally settling into life in Portland. The night before, he showed me pictures of engagement rings and asked my opinion. And Melissa and Ethan’s careers were taking off right before my eyes.
The players filed out of their tunnels and the crowd erupted. I spotted Ethan on the field; his eyes were narrowed with focus and he moved with confidence.
“He’s got this,” I announced.
“I think you’re right,” Henry agreed.
The Stallions started the second half with possession of the ball. Ethan moved for the middle of the field and the crowd started chanting his name. The electrifying excitement of the crowd washed over me, making my pulse race even faster. I kept my eyes fixed on Ethan as the team broke from their huddle.
The second half of the game went much better than the first. Ethan and his offense scored on three possessions in a row. The defense held Philadelphia to less than ten yards per possession.
“This game is over,” Walt announced two-thirds of the way through the last half. Ethan had just run in another touchdown, bringing the Stallion’s lead up to forty-nine points.
Henry nodded. “Philadelphia doesn’t have time to come back from this,” he agreed.
“I don’t think anyone told them that,” I said, staring down at the field. Ethan and his team hadn’t let up, but their opponents weren’t backing down either. Ethan snapped the ball and seconds later, a pair of enormous linemen tackled him to the ground. I didn’t bother to watch where the ball went. Panic washed over me and all I could think about was Ethan’s last bad tackle. I held my breath and gripped Walt’s arm, my eyes locked to the pile of bodies on top of my fiancé. One by one, they rolled off of him and Ethan sprang to his feet.
“Thank God.”
Ethan’s eyes found me in the crowd and he gave me a quick thumbs up before joining his team in the huddle.
“Getting knocked down is part of Ethan’s job,” Walt reminded me. “You’re going to have to get used to watching it.”
“I’ll never get used to it,” I insisted.
“I wouldn’t either,” Claudia agreed. Her face was as white as I imagined mine was and I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d panicked when Ethan went down.
“He can obviously handle it,” Linda observed.
Ethan faked a toss to one of his receivers and ran for another touchdown, mowing down every opponent in his path with the help of two of his teammates.
“Obviously,” Walt agreed.
After Ethan’s last touchdown, everyone on the field seemed to agree with my uncle: the game was over, it was just a matter of waiting for the clock to wind down. P
hiladelphia made a valiant effort to lessen the gap, but to no avail. With forty-two seconds left on the clock, the Stallions gained possession of the ball and Ethan took a knee. The crowd erupted with cheers, whistles, and air horns. Painted fans rushed the field and Ethan’s teammates lifted him onto their shoulders. I knew I didn’t have a hope of reaching him in the chaos, so I watched from my seat.
Ethan’s teammates set him back on the ground and dumped a cooler of Gatorade over his head. The crowd closed in and I lost sight of him.
“Ethan’s probably looking for you,” Walt insisted. “I’ll brave the madness with you if you’d like to go find him.”
I shook my head. “That would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Besides, I’m sure Ethan’s celebrating the win with his teammates. We’ll wait here and he’ll find us when the madness dies down.”
I watched the sea of people in front of us, giddy with happiness. I thought about who I’d been before Ethan, how determined I was to settle down into a routine, structured life. Ethan was the opposite of everything I’d ever thought I wanted. And I was happier than I’d ever thought possible.
Ethan emerged from the edge of the crowd and pulled himself over the stadium wall.
“Excellent game, son,” Walt offered, patting him on his shoulder pad.
“Thanks, Walt,” Ethan replied, his eyes on me.
“I’m so proud of you.” I beamed at him before falling into his arms. He wrapped me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. I knew there were cameras on us, but I didn’t care. I slid one hand up the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to mine.
We shared a long, passionate kiss before Ethan had to leave for after game interviews. The kiss went viral before Ethan finished his first interview. It didn’t bother me in the slightest.
EPILOGUE
Three Years and Nine Months Later
Ethan peeked his head in through the patio doors and smiled at me as I iced cupcakes at the kitchen island.
“Melissa and Dave just got here. DJ took one look at Eli and little Walt in the kiddie pool, stripped down to his diaper, and hopped in. I told Melissa I’d let you know they were here. Do you need any help?”
I shook my head, bracing my sore back with one hand. A lot had changed in the last four years, and not just when it came to our house. I was seven months into my second pregnancy, and our little girl was taking a toll on my body. I could have easily hired a caterer, but we were celebrating our twin boys’ third birthday and I wanted to be the kind of mom who baked birthday cakes from scratch.
“I’m just about to finish up. Is anyone else here?”
Ethan shook his head and joined me in the kitchen. He tossed a handful of sprinkles into his mouth and started arranging the cupcakes on a large platter.
“Not yet. Henry called about five minutes ago. They had a hard time finding Hugo’s floaties, but they’re on their way now.”
“Walt sent me a text. He said he and Claudia have a huge surprise, but it may make them a little late.”
An amused smile crossed Ethan’s face. “We don’t stand a chance against them. They’re going to spoil our kids rotten regardless of how much we protest.”
“That’s what grandparents are for,” I reminded him with a grin.
A few weeks before our boys were born, Ethan and I sat down and had a long talk with Walt and Claudia. I’d overheard Walt refer to himself as their great uncle, and I didn’t feel like the title fit. I thanked him for always keeping my parents’ memories alive, but pointed out that for all intents and purposes, he was my father. When I asked if the boys could call him Grandpa, he broke down in happy tears and agreed on the spot.
Ethan set the last cupcake on the platter and stood behind me, wrapping his arms beneath my growing belly. I leaned back against him, letting him hold a bulk of my weight.
“You’ve done a fantastic job, sweetheart. But I can take it from here,” he insisted. He kept one arm around me and reached for the tray with the other. “Come on. It’s time for you to get off your feet.”
He led me outside, where we found more of our friends waiting. Linda and Henry had arrived with their two-year-old son, Hugo, and Ethan’s teammate Elijah was there with his three little girls. All of the kids were playing happily inside the cushioned splash pool we’d had installed next to the adult pool.
The adults were scattered about the yard. I spotted Linda and Melissa on lounge chairs, watching the kids. They stood up and hugged me as I joined them.
“You look fantastic, Emily,” Melissa told me.
“I’m enormous,” I argued. “But thank you.”
It had been a few months since Melissa and I had seen each other. Shortly after Ethan’s first Super Bowl win, she’d accepted a job with a national sports network. Her career led her to Dave Hudson, an investigative reporter who worked for an affiliate network. They married after less than a month of dating and welcomed their little boy a year and a half later. They lived in New York City, but they made it to Portland whenever they could.
“Cut it out, Em. You’re the cutest little pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. You’re all belly this time,” Linda pointed out.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “With the boys, my whole body swelled up like a puffer fish. This time, I just look like I’ve stuffed a half-dozen bowling balls down my shirt.”
“You love it and you know it,” Melissa countered with a knowing smile.
I cradled my belly and grinned back at her. “I do. I told Ethan last night, I’d have a dozen of them if I could.”
I watched my sons laughing and running through the water as fast as their chubby little legs would carry them. The boys were conceived the night the Stallions won their first Super Bowl. They were identical, both the spitting image of their father who joined them in the tiny pool.
“Who wants to play water tag?” Ethan called out. The water hit the top of his ankles. He’d have looked ridiculous if the scene wasn’t so adorable.
The kids rushed him with shouts of “we do,” “not it,” and “where’s base?”
“He’s really wonderful with them,” Linda observed. “How’s he settling into retirement?”
I laughed. “He gave up football, but he’s hardly retired. If anything, he’s working more now that he’s concentrating on his investments full time. But having him home has been wonderful. I’ve been exhausted and he’s picked up all the slack with the boys.”
Ethan played a total of four seasons with the Stallions, two of which led to championship rings. After his second victory, he decided to give the sport up for good. He wanted to have more time at home with our growing family, and we were thrilled to have him. Eli and Walt were daddy’s boys through and through, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Dave and Henry joined Ethan and the kids, and my friends and I watched them with broad, content smiles.
“I can’t believe the boys are three years old,” Melissa said. “In some ways, it seems like they were just born last week. But if you think about everything that happened right before then, it feels like a lifetime ago.”
I nodded, thinking back to the hurdles Ethan and I had to jump to be together. We hadn’t seen either of his parents since the day they were sentenced to prison. Ethan spoke to the judge, urging him to keep Victor and Marsha out of society for the maximum amount of time allowed. The judge was persuaded either by the speech or the sheer volume of convictions against them. Victor was sentenced to ninety years in jail, Marsha sixty-five. There was a chance one of them would be paroled, but they wouldn’t be a problem for a long time. A majority of the Montez’s vast fortune was seized by the government and used to reimburse their victims. The balance was given to Ethan, at Victor’s request. We donated it to a local food bank.
Susannah Cross pled guilty to the charges against her. As Detective Dickson predicted, the prosecution allowed her to serve her time at a mental facility instead of prison. She was released after two years and settled down to a quiet life at her
parents’ house. She sent me a moving, apologetic letter and took responsibility for what she’d done. Last I heard, she was starting an Etsy shop and saving to move out on her own. I wished her well and prayed she didn’t have a setback.
The prosecution wasn’t quite as lenient with Kelvin Rhoads. He was charged with premeditated assault and attempted murder, both with special circumstances given the age of the victim. Prosecutor Nelson offered him a twenty-year sentence in exchange for a no contest plea, and Rhoads decided not to take his chances with a trial.
Alfie and Amaya Hollis returned to The Day School for the second grade, after I quit to stay home with the boys. They never forgave me for what happened to their son. And after having children of my own, I didn’t blame them. I knew I’d always carry a twinge of guilt for what Alfie went through, but that guilt is what drove me to do better.
When the boys turned a year old, I went back to work part-time as a substitute teacher at a school for special needs children. I planned to take the first year of my daughter’s life off as well, but I knew I’d always go back to the classroom. With Ethan working from home full time, we had the luxury of being able to tag team the childcare so our kids rarely had to be with a sitter. And when we did need a sitter, Grandpa Walt was always happy to fill the role.
“Who wants cupcakes?” Ethan called out once the kids started slowing down in the water.
The kids yelled “me” in unison as their fathers lifted them into their arms.
“We have to light the candles and sing first,” I insisted, struggling out of the chaise.
“Let me help you,” Claudia called out. I turned to greet her as she rushed toward me.
“You’re just in time,” I said, accepting her arm. She pulled me to my feet and I noticed she was downright glowing.
“What’s going on, Claudia? Does this have something to do with your big surprise?”
She nodded and blushed. “Walt’s bringing her in.”
Her?
I looked up just as my uncle stepped through the open gate with a baby carrier in his arms.
