Page 44 of Lover
“That’s my girl,” I muttered before my neck could no longer hold my head up. Soon, there would be nothing more. At least I’d had the privilege of seeing Millie’s victory, winning a battle she’d fought for so long, though none of us had known who the opponent truly was. Even without me, she would be fine.
My awareness began to fade, but before I sank into eternal silence, the weight of another body lay upon mine, and through the thickening dimness, I heard her, weak, distant.
“I’m Millicent Hughes,” she whispered. “I’m your wife.”
At last.
“Yes, my love,” I said. “You are.”
Then the world ceased to be.
EPILOGUE
"STEADY NOW, OLD man," I directed as I held the ladder for Burt, who insisted on being the one to hang the New Year’s Eve banner. "Lottie will have my head if you get even a scratch on you."
Burt finished pinning the silk to the maze of gold-dusted garland, shaking his head.
"A man hits his 40s, and suddenly he’s elderly and infirm."
I laughed as he descended, hale and hearty as always, looking barely older than he had when we were in school. I clapped him on the shoulder.
"You’re forever a young man to me, Burt."
"Your turn’s coming," he warned, grinning from ear to ear. "I’ll remember how you treated me."
“I’ve got a few years still.”
"It catches you by surprise," he cautioned, then noticed his wife and excused himself to assist her in coordinating the caterers.
He was right. So much time had already passed, and so many things had already changed..
Two small creatures collided with my legs, nearly knocking me to the ground, as they desperately tried to crawl up into my arms.
“Daddy!” they cawed, laughing, screeching, both eager to get away from some pursuer. I could only imagine who. I searched in every direction but didn't see any sign of Millie.I lifted both my sons, holding one under each arm like bags of flour. Anelectric shock of pain resonated in my left shoulder, the old wound acting up as it did every winter, but it soon subsided, and I clung on to my flailing children.
“Mommy said cake!”
“She didn’t!” I replied with mock incredulity.
“There you are, you rascals!” Millie had at last appeared, coming over the threshold of the dining room looking equal parts amused and harassed. She stepped awkwardly, heavy with our third child and beautiful as any of the Aos Sí in her tray-shouldered silk frock, the color of pink champagne. She still wore her hair short, styled into a charming frame of soft curls at her cheeks. There had never been anyone so stunning. I’d wanted to skip the party tonight, with her so close to due. My inclination was to treat her rather like a delicate flower, though she’d handled carrying the twins so well. I had no reason to believe things wouldn’t go smoothly. Still. Old habits.
“They know they can get away from me,” she said in good humor, huffing a bit as she approached. I watched her carefully.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. Listen, you two. You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“You told them about the cake?” I maintained my affected tone of abashment.
“Oh, I may have mentioned it earlier.”
“How could you?”
“It was a terrible mistake I’ll never make again.”
I sat the boys down, and they shifted the clinging to their mother, pressing their faces to her belly and beginning a barrage of requests, mostly centered around sweets.
“Ah ha!” Ms. Dillard’s voice echoed within the room, startling the two troublemakers and encouraging them to hide behind Millie’s skirt. “Don’t try to escape. I’ve already seen you! Sean, Brody, come on now.”
The misfits looked up at us, seeking salvation from bedtime, but there would be none.
