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SILAS’S EPILOGUE
As a kid, I learnedto love silence. At night, when my parents would shut the fuck up, I could think straight. Despite living at the Pigsty for years, I never got over my preference for quiet. Too much noise brought me right back to my nagging mother and full-of-shit father. Some baggage never goes away.
Just like Landry will never completely leave her past behind. Many of her wounds are healed from years of therapy and finding the family she deserves. Yet, I sometimes feel her sinking back into her old thinking where she’s a loser who deserves nothing. I can only wrap her in my arms and help her focus on the present.
Blair turning fourteen soothes much of Landry’s self-hatred. My woman held her teenage self to such high standards. At fourteen, she picked the scary unknown future rather than remain in a house where she felt unsafe. Landry never forgave herself for choosing what she believes was the wrong option. Blair reaching fourteen acts as a wake-up call.
“She’s only a kid,” Landry often says as if finally able to see clearly now that her daughter is that age. “She’s still learning how to stand on her own.”
Landry needs extra attention that year. She frequently cries as if finally forgiving herself for making the best choices a lonely, abused child could formulate.
During our first years together, Landry grows up a lot. By then, I know my woman inside and out. That’s why I’ve never trusted anyone more.
At first, though, when she becomes more confident, finds hobbies, and creates friendships, I admittedly worry she’ll get bored of me and bolt into the night.
Instead, Landry loves me deeper once she feels stronger. I’m not only her savior. I’m the stud who fucks her every night. I’m the man who takes her riding and shares stories of the club’s bloodier days. I’m the father of her children and the guy who flips out when he can’t get a kid’s toy assembled. I’m the stubborn mule who refuses to ask for directions when we get lost in New York City during a vacation to Coney Island.
Every day, we learn more about each other. Even arguments, cold shoulders, and makeup sex bring us closer together.
Early on, I get asked by people if I want a kid with my blood flowing through its veins. Despite how easy I make fatherhood look, that shit is fucking hard!
Then, one day, Landry remarks on my president’s kids, “Walker and Joie look so much like Ruin. I’m curious what your baby would be like.”
We decide to roll the dice for one year. If pregnancy doesn’t happen, we shut down the baby factory.
Landry is pregnant the first month after she goes off birth control. Four months later, we find out we’re expecting a son.
“Like the Brady Bunch,” Rosemary says when we tell her.
Though I never wanted to be a dork like Mike Brady, life is a winding road that’s led me here.
Several days after we learn about my boy, Blair gives me little blue booties like the ones I used to carry around.
“This one is a keeper,” Blair says and hugs me.
My daughter helps me hook those little blue bad boys to my vest. I figure my club family will ride my ass about wearing the booties again. Instead, they hold their tongues. My friends know I hit the jackpot with my current lady.
Landry gets bigger than normal with Buchanan. She’s on bed rest early on and barely mobile by the end.
“I don’t know why I never considered your baby would be enormous,” she says the night before she goes into labor. “I also ate too many burgers with him. This kid is bound to be a beast.”
Buchanan roars for the first twenty minutes of his life outside the womb. He yells at the doctor and then the nurse. He tells me to fuck off, too. Only when my ten-pound son is nestled in his mama’s arms does he settle the hell down.
Landry gets her wish to have a child who looks like me. Buchanan is born with a full head of dark hair and my light blue eyes. He’s a butterball, blowing through baby clothes and growing into a big boy with mighty lungs.
I’m crazy about all six kids. Of course, Blair knows me best, witnessing the monster I hide most days. Like her mother, she understands the blood spilled to create our family. Yet, my oldest child never holds my ugly side against me. Blair is able to be a soft-hearted kid because her daddy is a mean son of a bitch.
Once Blair gets her footing at school, her grades improve and she becomes a social butterfly. Back in Beehive Ridge, Blair struggled to find one good friend. By high school, she’s buddies with everyone from the jocks she tutors to the nerds in her chess club. Her plan is to attend the nearby women’s college, which is a relief since I’m not looking forward to my kids moving away.
Beau is a tricky child to understand. He’ll never say he loves me unless I say it first and he mimics the words. Unlike his siblings, he doesn’t look at me and smile. His affection is subtle. When I fully win him over, I know I’ve gained something valuable. Few people will ever feel his love like I do. Though his journey into adulthood will be more difficult, he has a protective family ready to help him navigate.
My spitfire Brooklyn will one day truly understand how the parents she loves aren’t the ones who created her. She didn’t choose a troubled birth mom or a disinterested birth dad. She got screwed early on, but life turned around when Landry accepted the girl as her own. I love her with the same passion as I do the other kids. Brooklyn Bennings started her life as an unwanted child, but I don’t doubt she’ll grow into a confident young woman.
Owning a big heart like his mama, Beckett claimed me right away. When he was little, I worried he might follow in my footsteps. Though his interest in motorcycles never fades, Beckett’s competitive nature flips to sports rather than fighting. He excels in baseball, football, and basketball. His easygoing nature and popularity remind me of Ruin back in the day.
