We Were Giants

Epilogue

 "Papa, tell me about how you and Daddy met," Aiden asks me as I grade a stack of projects beside me.

I laugh, looking up from my stack. I've told him this story a thousand times, but it never gets old for me.

"He was my best friend in high school," I answer. "He rescued me when I didn't know I needed saving."

"You saved me too," Isaiah calls from the kitchen where he's cooking dinner.

"And now Daddy's a hero, right?" Aiden smiles brightly, looking from me to Isaiah.

"That's right," I put down my pen. "Your Daddy helps people every day. He's the best social worker who's ever existed. Because he has such a big heart and he loves everybody."

I look at our son, six-years-old and king of the world. He's still young and unbroken and I hope every day that he will be spared as long as possible from being broken and gilded with gold. I hope every day that he will feel like a giant in the world.

"You help people every day, too, Daddy says," Aiden giggles the most infectious giggle; he reminds me of Thomas when he was that age. "Did you always know you were going to be a teacher?"

"I didn't," I shake my head. "In fact, your Daddy always thought he was going to be a teacher. I was going to be a graphic designer or an animator."

"I don't know what that is," Aiden laughs. I decide not to explain graphic designer to him; I'm tired and it'll make him ask a thousand more questions.

"How is Uncle Cameron my uncle? He's not your brother, like Uncle Thomas, or Daddy's brother, like Uncle Logan." I want to know why he's asking so many questions tonight, but I don't want to quash his inquisitive nature. He loves to learn, and I don't want to shut that down.

"Sometimes your family is the people you pick," I explain to him.

"Like how you and Daddy picked me?" He bats his long eyelashes at me and I pick him up and kiss him all over his face. Sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes he's just the most adorable thing in the entire world.

"Just like that," I throw him over my shoulder and bring him into the kitchen where Isaiah is chopping vegetables.

"You're so sexy when you cook," I kiss him before pushing Aiden into his face.

"You're just saying that so I'll keep cooking," he laughs before putting down his knife and taking our son into his arms.

"I am," I laugh. "But that doesn't mean it's not true."

Watching him swing Aiden around takes me back to high school and the way he used to wrestle with Thomas. I can remember the first time he let Thomas crawl all over him and I knew right then that that was the man I wanted to raise kids with.

"What's got you asking so many questions tonight?" Isaiah asks in my stead.

"Our teacher had a baby," Aiden says through giggles, as if we didn't know this. "And our new teacher came today. And she said she knew you."

"Oh yeah?" I ask standing back to watch Isaiah spin Aiden around playfully. I can't control the smile on my face.

"Do you remember her name?" Isaiah asks. It wouldn't be like our son to not remember his teacher's name.

"Ms. Albright," Aiden announces proudly. "Kayla Albright."

"Really?" I suddenly stand up straighter. It's been 15 years since I thought about Kayla. I haven't seen her since graduation. In fact, I thought she'd moved away. Maybe she's moved back.

"She knew you were an artist," he continues. "And she says she has a book you made for her, but I don't know what she means. You don't write books."

"I'll show you one of my books tonight," I tell Aiden. "Why don't you go read until dinner's ready?"

Isaiah puts Aiden on the floor and smiles as he runs to his bedroom to read.

"He has so much energy," he laughs as Aiden runs away. "How do people have multiple kids? I can hardly keep up with one."

"So, Kayla's back," he wraps his arms around me like he has for 15 years. Like he has forever.

"Apparently," I shrug. "Maybe I'll email her and see if she wants to get coffee and catch up."

"You sure you want to do that?" Is raises an eyebrow at me. "She was pretty awful."

"Time changes people," I shrug. "And if she's not interested, she'll say no."

"You're a nicer person than I am," Is returns to chopping vegetables. "But you're also still trying to be nice to my mom, like that's ever going to make a difference."

"Maybe it won't," I laugh as I set the dinner table. "But at the end of the day, what matters is how we treat people, not how they treat us. It's what I tell my students every day, so I have to live it out, too."

"I wish you'd been my art teacher," Isaiah laughs as he stirs whatever's in the pot on the stove. "Mr. Camplin was good, but I would have learned better from you."

"What makes you so sure?" I laugh.

"I would have had the hots for the teacher," he winks. "I would have tried much harder."

I laugh inappropriately loudly.

When you pull out all of the extra stuff and all of the unwanted stuff, this is the beautiful, finished piece of art that's left. Me and Isaiah against the world. Just like it's always been. Just like it always will be.

We are gilded in gold and we are giants.