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It’s not that awkward. Anything is better than the way my parents took the news. Dad is still threatening to have the marriage annulled, even though legally, he can’t do anything about it. Mom is upset she couldn’t be there for the wedding.
Not all hope is lost with my parents. They both finally admitted that I’ve seemed happier lately since I’ve moved in with Rushmore. Ever since our confrontation over Christmas, they’ve been spending more and more time at home, having come around to the idea of slowing things down for a change.
I have hope they will come around to liking their new son—in-law, even if he is only a few years their junior.
Addie is so surprised, but hugs me and hugs Rushmore. I have to laugh; it’s pretty obvious he’s not much of a hugger because he awkwardly pats her on the back and says “there, there.”
What can I say? We’re all a work in progress.
Thank god for cake.
Later, after everyone leaves, Addie and Weston follow us to Rushmore’s estate, bringing the leftover cake with them. The three of us order Rushmore to change into pajama pants and we all devour cake and watch Housewives for hours on end. I can tell Rushmore is beginning to like my idea of fun. He actually eats grocery store pizza without grimacing and I catch him laughing at parts of the show.
I don’t know if him occasionally joining me on a junk food and TV binge — or, on the flip side of that, me agreeing to play the role of a gracious corporate wife whenever I feel like it — is the answer to all the challenges we may face. But I know one thing: we’ve both got plenty of sugar to go around to make all of it a hell of a lot sweeter.
Epilogue
Ten years later
Rushmore
My baby still gets her way.
Our six year old twins, on the other hand, often do not get their own way. For instance, at the moment, they are both fighting me tooth and nail over their clothes.
But Hunter insisted Evie and Julian wear coordinating outfits she bought them to her premiere on Broadway. And one way or another, these kids are going to the theater in those clothes.
Tonight, I can’t seem do a thing with these wild little things. Fortunately their Auntie Ridley is also here, sharing our block of suites at the Rushmore Hotel in Manhattan to join the family on Hunter’s opening night. And Ridley, it turns out, does not take any spoiled behavior from her niece and nephew. OK, technically, she’s their half sister. But I dare you to challenge a Rushmore woman who insists on being referred to as an auntie.
While Ridley wrangles the kids into their coats, I find myself taking in the whole scene in wonder. My oldest daughter, now 28 and married with a family of her own, is not just my daughter anymore, but my friend.
“You could help me with your children, you know,” Ridley says with a smirk while Julian darts away for the third time, laughing and pulling off his necktie that matches Evie’s dress.
I corral the little fellow and crouch down to his eye level. “You and your sister only have to stay dressed like this until intermission, then the sitter is going to take you home because it will be very late. That’s not too long to keep on a necktie, is it?”
Julian pouts but he can see in my eyes he’s not going to walk all over me tonight. “OK, fine,” he says glumly.
Eventually we all make it downstairs unscathed. When we trundle the whole family into the stretch limo to head out to the theater, I tell Evie and Julian conspiratorially, “Don’t tell mommy we didn’t take public transportation.” The two of them laugh, and I know they’re definitely going to tell their mother everything. Hunter seems bent on getting me used to mixing with the common people. She may be in the right, but no way am I taking the subway or a bus on a special night like tonight.
Arriving at the theater, Evie points out the poster on our way inside.
“That’s mommy’s name,” she says.
I would be proud no matter what career Hunter chose to pursue, but I’m so damn proud right now I could break out into song. Well, maybe not literally. But I sure am proud enough that I’ve actually grown fond of musicals, once I took the time to listen to my amazing wife explain why they are wonderful.
We take our seats in the reserved box, and Evie insists on climbing into my lap. She’s already tired from a long day of playing, and I don’t think she’s going to make it through the first act.
I smile and sniff her little head as she cuddles into my chest, with me not feeling the least bit concerned that she’s rumpling my suit.
Before I met Hunter, I never thought I could feel this content. I have my three children close to me, I’m on good terms with my ex wife and her husband, and Hunter’s parents seem to actually like me. But most of all, that woman on stage as the curtain comes up is mine. All mine. Along with the tiny new peanut now growing inside her. I can’t believe how lucky I am.
None of the things that make me feel this way have anything to do with power or prestige or money.
Although sometimes, Hunter laughs and assures me that the money helps a lot.
She still maintains a healthy sense of outrage over Evie’s dance school bills, even though it’s never going to be something we can’t pay for.
We could have all the money in the world, but this dazzling woman may never realize that she takes care of me on a far deeper level than I could have ever dreamed.
