The Tattooed Devil Wears Chucks

Epilogue: A New Normal

4 Years Later

Gabby.

There is no view I love more than the one from my back porch. A large open yard, a lake, a dock, tiny feet dangling from the tailgate of an old Chevy pickup.

Zooey sits beside my dad, fishing poles in their hands, with giggles filling the air every time she thinks she sees the bobber move. The air is filled with the scent of summer. Freshly cut grass, daylilies, lake water, sunshine... it is my favorite time of year.

There is no other place I would rather be in the world than right here, on my porch swing, reading a good book with my family in my sight. My new home sits off an old dirt road that falls between two old Victorian homes in the colors of yellow and blue.  Where once there were overgrown woods filled with raspberry bushes, there is now bright green yards, my green home and my sister's large gray home a few acres away.  It is the perfect place,  the place where I grew up with my family, hung out with my friends, felt loss, felt fear, fell in love with a tattooed criminal... every huge moment in my life happened in this spot, beside an old dock by a large lake.  This is my spot.  It is where you could find me almost any day of week. 

The porch swing rocks back and forth slowly. The wind catches my hair, flipping it up into my face, blocking my view of the book I had dove into this morning.  I carefully pulled it back and tied it with one of the five rubber bands that are currently on my wrist.  Just as I settled back into my comfort zone within my pages, a cry echoed from the open window behind me.  My eyes slowly lifted from the book at the very same time a very familiar pair of green did the same.

"It's your turn..."

His chest rises with laughter as he turns the page of his book.  "Uh, no.  I'm pretty sure I hear him saying mama in there."

I hold up my pointer finger and giggle.  "That may be, but that's the only word he says.  I don't find that very fair.  It could be months before he says dada."

His face turns to a scowl.  "Better not..."

"Then I suggest you go teach him."

"Books, I know for a fact he ate that entire cinnamon roll this morning.  That kid's diaper is going to be catastrophic."

I purse my lips, attempting to stifle my laugh.  He is so right.  Wyatt is a ticking time bomb in there.  Our boy loves sweets, but watch out for the diaper following that meal. Yikes.

"I can't get up anyway, your legs are on mine." He flips another page and smirks as if he has won.

"Promise you'll get the next one?"

His eyes don't leave his book as he nods his head yes.

Sucker.

I slam my book shut and toss it to the chair beside our swing and then pull my legs from his lap to stand. I tried to hide my smile by masking it with a fake pout. As I began to walk past him, Jax gently tugged on my wrist, pulling me down so our noses touched.

"I love you. Thank you for taking one for the team," he chuckles.

"I love you too." I place a quick kiss on his lips before walking inside to retrieve Wyatt.

He's going to regret his decision later. What he seems to be forgetting is that it's Sydney's daughter's, Emma's, third birthday. There is a party at my parent's house in an hour. There will be cake and ice cream, two things that Wyatt has not had the luxury of tasting yet. He's going to love it and daddy is going to hate it.