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OANA’S EPILOGUE, AKA HOW THE STORY ENDS
My pregnancy spursIke to make our common law marriage a law-law marriage. When I don’t want to give up my necklace ring, Ike suggests we get new rings while keeping our first ones. I love how he doesn’t bend to what is traditional.
That’s why we decide to have our wedding on our own terms. I stand at the front with my army of co-brides of honor since I refused to choose. Ike walks down the aisle with Donovan and Journey. He goes casual with jeans, a white T-shirt, and his club vest. I’m in my favorite flare jeans and a striped muscle T-shirt.
Our honeymoon is at the Holiday Inn. I don’t want to go anywhere farther away. As much as I love all the changes in my life over the last month, I’m overwhelmed. The hotel is different enough without stressing me out.
We test every flavor of Hot Pockets to find one I like. While that proves to be a flop, I do start to understand the “South Park” humor. Reenacting our first week together, Ike and I swim in the pool, eat out, and see a movie. It’s perfect.
During the holidays, he introduces me to horror movies, new weird adult cartoon shows, and foods that might satisfy my pregnancy cravings.
By Christmas, I’m regularly working at Tempting Treats. I always freeze when the Trinity Church members arrive to protest our evil ways. Never in the store alone, I allow whoever is with me to handle the situation. Tuesday takes great pride in her musical choices to repel the churchgoers. Edith mostly just puts on songs with the words “hell” or “devil” in them.
In early February, our four-bedroom prefab house is delivered. I love the big kitchen open to the family room. Since moving to the homestead, Journey and Edith have taught me to cook dozens of new meals. I can’t wait to break in the kitchen by having people over for dinner.
Ike liked a lot about his childhood house, so we copied many of the features from the traditional two-story New England cape-style home. We even have the same number of bedrooms. The plan is for two kids. The fourth room is my music spot and guest room.
By the time Cherie is born, I’m able to play a few songs on my guitar. My daughter seems to think my music is snooze-worthy because she always crashes as soon as I begin playing.
Ike goes all in with fatherhood in the same way he did with our relationship. He never hesitates with his tiny daughter.
“I’m good with my hands,” he assures me during his first diaper change.
I can’t deny Cherie prefers Ike’s arms. When she’s fussy, he’s the one who can settle her down the easiest. She’s also a sucker for Donovan and Otto.
“Now you get to enjoy that annoying nickname,” Court tells the newly dubbed “Prince Peepaw Donovan” during our “Welcome Home” party.
The homestead is always throwing parties and having get-togethers. It’s similar to the way the church was, except people are happy here.
Rather than quietly simmering resentments, the homestead people just blurt out their complaints. People yell, gasp, chase each other, wrestle, and break into water pistol battles. Problems are solved rather than allowed to fester for generations.
Admittedly, I haven’t gotten up the courage to yell insults at my fellow homestead people yet. However, I’m very willing to squirt anyone who gets too loud around a sleeping Cherie.
After our daughter is born, Ike and I decide to wait a year before trying for a second child. I’m wary of birth control after hearing so many negative things growing up. However, the pills offer me the power to focus carefree on Ike and Cherie for a year.
Our daughter turns out to be a ham. By a year old, she’s always making funny faces just to get reactions from people. She claps wildly whenever Otto unleashes his big laugh.
She also loves music despite snoozing through it as an infant. When I practice on my guitar, she’ll play her music playset. She really likes the drum sounds. In my wildest imagination, I hope Cherie and I can have a band one day. I would love to share hobbies with my kids like Ike does with Donovan and Journey.
Not once do I miss my parents. They felt like jailers rather than family. Though I still expect to get nostalgic when I give birth, I’m instead relieved they aren’t around to ruin things with their negative judgments.
I occasionally think of them. Like when Ike and I get matching tattoos. Our first ink together is the date we met written in cursive on our right wrists. The second is the date we were reunited. The third is our wedding date. Later, we add our children’s birth dates on our left wrists.
When Cherie is a year old, Ike and I start trying to have our final child. I nearly hesitate after Anouk turns up pregnant after a wild night with one of Ike’s rowdy club brothers. Once she sobers up, my sister realizes she isn’t suited for sex or relationships. Weeks later, she learns she’s pregnant.
Coretta is surprisingly chill about Anouk’s situation. Ike claims OG Meemaw couldn’t go six months without losing a caregiver.
“Her personality scared them off. Or the random horniness between her and OG Peepaw. Either way, she was always seeking someone new.”
With Anouk enjoying her job, Coretta is ready to accept a kid around the house.
My sister’s son—Jimmy after his biker dad—is born two months before Van. Ike and I choose the name to honor his dad and the band who helped us get our sexy groove on back in the day.
Our baby boy looks so much like his sister, who is a mix of Ike and me. They inherit his thick brown hair. Both have blue eyes. Over time, I realize Van’s shade is lighter like mine while Cherie’s is darker like her pa’s.
