Into You Series: The Complete Collection

Epilogue

HARRY

Ten years later

I t’s a madhouse during the holidays, and New Year’s Eve is always the worst offender.

Barking dogs. A squawking bird. All the happenings of our family-and-friend makeshift holiday.

Amidst this chaos is my girl, poised on the couch with her long legs crossed and thick curls in a wily mess. Her nose is pressed in a book, and she’s barely paying attention. This night is old hat for her.

“Hey, up and at ’em, pumpkin,” I say, patting the bottoms of her feet as she peers over her book with pursed lips.

“I’m just getting to the good part.”

“Well, we’re about to get into a good year,” I say. “Go get your brother.”

Cara’s nose scrunches as she dog-ears the book page and closes it.

“I thought I was done with diapers when the twins got out of them.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Nobody asked you to babysit for your aunt and uncle.”

She narrows her eyes. She’s gradually picked that up from her stepmom over the years.

“You plied me with books.”

“Paid, you mean. Go get your brother. I won’t ask again.”

She grins. “Alright, alright. Playing tough Dad tonight. I hear ya.”

From the corner of my eye, I see a rush of red hair zoom through the living room, followed closely by a boy with hair the same color of fire.

“Grace, you need help?” I call.

“Only finding my husband!” she yells back.

Nia comes rushing from the kitchen, grabbing the remote off the table and flipping through the channels at lightning speed.

“Two minutes!” she squeals.

Ever since our families grew to nearly twice their original size and in-laws started pushing in from all corners, we made it a tradition to have our official friends get-together on New Year’s Eve. It’s gotten a bit trickier with more children, but it only makes the midnight wrangling that much more exciting.

While I think of it as a challenge, I know my brother-in-law thinks of it as more of a game.

A loud roar comes from the sunroom, and Ian comes out with his arms reaching toward the ceiling, fingers coiled into monster hands. Eli and Leia, equal in height and spitting images of their father with their jet-black hair color and bright blue eyes, squeal as they run from the tall skyscraper monster and situate themselves on the couch, hands tucked under their bottoms.

“How did your kids get so well-behaved?” I ask.

“Your sister does the disciplining,” Ian says with a wink. “I just scare the shit out of them.”

Behind me I hear a cacophony of clanking pots and pans from the kitchen.

Nia’s head whips around, and we find Grant and his wife walking in, his arm draped over her shoulder with a cringing expression.

“Sorry we’re late, and for the noise.”

“Did you run over a marching band coming in?” Nia asks pointedly.

“Hey, I can’t help if one of your kids uses a wok for a cereal bowl and leaves it out for people to trip over,” Grant says with a laugh.

I just barely catch the look exchanged between the twins and Ian, who quickly shakes his head. I’d bet ten bucks that’s his makeshift cereal bowl not theirs, but I say nothing.

“One minute!” Nia calls out.

Grace reappears from the back patio, now hand in hand with Cameron, who swaddles a small baby in his arms as it sucks on the pacifier. Like their eldest, Oliver, little Jodie has the same shock of red in his tiny baby tuft of hair.

“Sorry, diaper change,” he says sheepishly. Grace kisses his cheek.

I twist my lips to the side, suddenly very aware that my own wife is missing. I knew she’d be a bit late with her New Year’s office hours, but this is cutting it close.

Cara walks back in the room, bouncing Kaden on her hip, a real natural after spending so much time with her cousins. Kaden has one of those faces that seems happy to even be awake, bright-eyed with his mom’s green eyes and the Smith family bleach-blond locks.

Cara meets my gaze as she tilts her head to the side in question. “Where’s Mom?” she mouths.

As if on cue, I hear the mudroom door creaking and subsequently slamming shut.

There’s my other girl.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Saria’s voice calls from the kitchen. I know that voice better than anything.

My wife rolls into the living room, hands waving in the air and heavy with apologies as Wes and Ray follow closely behind. Ray is holding her stomach, waddling forward like she’s seconds away from bursting on the floor. Given the round size of her stomach, I wouldn’t be surprised if her water broke on the spot. Wes looks startled to even be here.

“I swear, if I give birth tonight, it’s gonna be the end of all y’all,” Ray says, pointing a finger around the room.

Saria makes a beeline straight to me, cupping my face in her hands and kissing me deeply. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing; it’s the same luxurious greeting day after day, year after year, like she can’t imagine another second apart from me.

“Sorry, had to pick up the preggo,” she says against my mouth before I place another gentle kiss on her lips. “Wes was too nervous to drive.”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask.

“Softie,” Cameron and Ian say simultaneously, giving each other air fives.

Wes grumbles something, but his hand is still on his pregnant wife’s waist.

Saria rolls her eyes at them with a smile before leaning in with a cringe and whispering, “Yeah, he’s totally a softie.”

Even after ten years, my wife is still my favorite person.

“Ten!” Nia calls, unmuting the television and blaring it through the house.

“How are the animals?” I ask.

“All in foster homes for the night,” Saria says, almost out of breath. “Thankfully. No loose animals in the office. Promise.”

FIVE.

“God forbid we adopt another one.”

FOUR.

“Oh boy, Cara wishes.”

THREE.

I tilt my head to the side. “Let’s have another.”

TWO.

She smiles. “Child or puppy?”

ONE.

“Anything you want, princess.”

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

She smiles at me as we greet yet another year together as one. Another year of possibilities. Of family. Of living life together no matter what is thrown at us.

“Just kiss me,” she demands.

I do as she asks, claiming her lips as my own just as I promised I would ten years ago.

THE END