Fashionably late, the grand opening of the McPherson-Thorne community center goes ahead, followed by a gala dinner featuring the menu and serving staff from the center’s community outreach program.
I recognize almost everyone working tonight. I used to serve them bland chili and coffee in paper cups… now, they have jobs and a place to stay. Places of their own and most of them have families now too.
Florence gives a tearful speech, and I have to pretend I’m feeding Jack so she won’t see me cry. I eventually have to get up and declare the project officially open, which I do.
A familiar face hands me the novelty oversized scissors to cut the ribbon for the media while Mason holds baby Jack, cheering me on.
“How are you, Karen?” I ask, still amazed she’s stayed on so long. I made sure she kept her same salary, but I never believed someone like her would spend two minutes doing what we do here, let alone two years.
“Ah, y’know,” she murmurs, narrowing her eyes and looking from me to Mason.
“Not as well as some,” she says, almost sounding bitter, when one of the regulars I remember from when I first started helping here comes up behind her and squeezes her hips, kissing her neck.
“I’ve had worse jobs,” she says, finally smiling. But not at me. Smiling into the eyes of the man she’s found love with too.
Ha. Even Karen has a happy ending.
It’s Mason’s turn for speeches and as usual, there are a million media questions about everything not related to the center.
But he calls for silence, and to my horror, he produces the pee test he made me take, right before we arrived, announcing to the world that McPherson-Thorne Industries has a second heir on the way.
Right on time to celebrate our second wedding anniversary.
He shrugs and looks over to me, probably expecting me to be mad or embarrassed, but I’m not.
I only mouth the words I love you. Kissing baby Jack as I notice the tear at the corner of Mason’s eye as he smiles for the camera.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TEN YEARS LATER
Mason
“Well, I think it’s stupid,” Jack says gruffly, folding his arms and making a face that always reminds me of his momma, always makes me smile even though he’s mad.
Disappointed.
“That’s just how it goes Jack,” I explain. “Sometimes you hook the big fish and sometimes you come home with nothing but half the worms you left home with.
“I never wanna go fishing again!” he nearly shouts and it’s my turn to make a face at him in the rearview mirror.
“It’s not so bad, Jack. We’ll be going to the lake in a few weeks, and we can try again there, okay?”
But he looks really disappointed. “I just…” he starts, his cheeks red and his lower lip trembling.
Just like his mom, bless him.
“I just wanted to show you and mommy that I could do stuff, that I not just a little kid anymore,” he finally blurts out.
I feel a pain in my chest, cutting across two lanes of traffic, I stop at the nearest safe place.
I unbuckle myself and get out of the car. I walk around to his side, opening his door.
And I hug my son so hard, for so long.
“Jack,” I tell him, my own voice cracking with emotion, “Mommy and Daddy love you so much, no matter what you do. You don’t have to prove anything to us.”
“I know, Daddy, I know. But you and mommy are always doing everything, doing so much for other people. I just wanted to… to… contribute,” he manages to say, carefully considering the word before he says it.
“I’m more proud of you right now Jack than if you’d brought home half the ocean,” I tell him. “And I know mommy will be too when I tell her.”
“Tell her what?” he asks, looking up at me.
“When I tell her how you put everyone else first, in your thoughts and feelings today, that’s more valuable than bringing home any fish for dinner. We can order that in,” I remind him.
“But what you got yourself there son, its called character, it’s what makes people great. I love you, Jack,” I tell him. Looking up and thanking whoever or whatever it is that brought these angels into my life.
We drive home in better spirits and Jack’s pleased enough with himself for being a better person while I’m astonished at just how great these kids are, all of them.
Pulling into the drive, I frown when I see a strange car.
Beat up.
Old.
As we reach the front door I hear a male voice, and my back’s up.
“Go get washed up son,” I tell Jack, ushering him in a different direction to the voice and make my way into the kitchen in three steps.
Jules is at the table, baby Sarah on her knee. Joel, our second eldest is on someone else’s knee, but I can’t’ see his face.
An old man who speaks before I get there before I even see his face.
“I told Jules you’d probably wanna thump me one, but she let me in any way, Mason. Let me in to see my grandkids, please.”
I feel the air rush out of my chest. I shoot Jules a look of disbelief, but her eyes are so calm, so peaceful as she holds Sarah.
“When did you get out?” I ask, not even trying to sound polite.
“Oh, a few years back.”
Nicholas turns in his seat to face me, his eyes move to an empty chair nearby.
“I won’t stay long, Mason. I just wanted to see you again… see how you were. You’re looking good, son. Real good,” he says.
I almost recoil at how he’s aged, how small he looks. The man I spent so much time and effort putting away, the man I relied on for twenty years before that, every day.
“I haven’t got long, Mason. Not much time-” he starts to say, but the sound of Jack talking loudly as he walks into the kitchen drowns him out.
“… Never wanted to go fishing
