I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with Almost Home. I can't believe it's been over a year since it started. And now, with this, it comes to an end. I hope you all enjoy. I tried my best to do you all justice with this end chapter. It's not as long as the rest -- it's short and sweet.
It's been a great ride. Thank you all.
Epilogue
The warm April breeze danced around her, sweeping her dark curls around, into her face. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, Kate wrapped a rubber band around it, and sat down in the wicker chair that Jack had drug into the middle of the yard for her. She settled in, content to sit and watch them play.
He was pushing her on the swing now, her ecstatic squeals blending together with his happy laughter. It was a tire swing he had constructed himself, and had been so proud of. He had worked on it for two days, and then spent another two testing it himself to make sure it wouldn't break and tumble her the two and a half feet to the ground.
"Daddy!" their daughter's giggles quieted down. "Push me higher. Mommy always pushes me to the moon."
Jack's pushes continued at the same pace. "This is high enough, Emma. You don't want to fall out, do you?"
Kate bit back a smirk. Jack was so protective. Not that she was surprised. That was one of Jack's best (and at times, most annoying) characteristics. Even before Emma had been born, Jack was already making lists of things she would and would not be allowed to do once she arrived.
Climbing trees was number one of the list of no-no's. Kate had quickly crossed it off and in it's place written 'being a control freak' to which Jack had voiced an hour long complaint, followed by a lecture on the dangers of climbing trees. The argument had ended when Kate announced whoever could balance their dinner plate on their protruding stomach got final say when it came to the list.
Jack was quick to step-back and let Kate have her way, just like nearly every other time during her pregnancy. But the list remained on the refrigerator, and whenever one had become annoyed at the other something would get crossed off the list, and something sarcastic was written in it's place. By the time Kate went into labor the list stated that their daughter would not be allowed to eat the last green apple without permission, use the last of the toilet paper without replacing it, or call Jack a 'jackass' for any reason, no matter how 'moody' she was.
But she knew Jack was only so protective because he cared so much. He had been the one to console her when she had gone through mood swing after mood swing through her pregnancy. The time that stood out the clearest was when Karen, who upon their move had become Kate's OB/GYN and the closest thing she'd had to a best friend in a long time, dropped off a box of supplies two weeks before Kate's due date.
Jack had come home from the hospital to find Kate sitting in the living room, holding a bottle of Johnson's Baby Oil and crying. She had tried to get up off the couch, failed, and sat there wailing, "Why did she bring us baby oil? I don't know what it's for. Why does our baby need to be oiled?"
In hindsight, the fact that he hadn't burst out laughing made her love him even more.
And he had stood beside her for the entire fourteen hours she had been in labor. Jack had brought her ice chips, and let her squeeze his hand. And been so supportive and comforting that at one point she had taken a swing at him.
She smiled as she remembered angrily informing Jack that if he ever, ever tried to have sex with her again there would be severe consequences that include the loss of an important part of anatomy.
Kate had swung at him again when he started to laugh.
But when the fourteenth hour rolled around, and it was time to push, it was Jack's soothing words that got her through it when a panic she hadn't seen coming blindsided her. She had squeezed his hand, and told him, crying that she couldn't do it. She just couldn't. She wasn't ready. She had told him it would be best if they could just go on back home, and wait until she was absolutely sure this baby wanted her for a mom. Then they could come back and have her.
Jack had smoothed her hair back and told her very calmly that she was the strongest person he knew. The strongest person he had ever known. He told her that their baby loved them just as much as they loved her. And that she was probably just as excited to meet them as they were her, so Kate better get to pushing.
Twenty minutes later Emma Grace Shephard was born.
Kate knew it was cliché but the next four years really had passed in the blink of an eye. Her memories were a blur of family moments she wouldn't trade for anything. Standing beside a newborn Emma's crib all night, with Jack by her side, watching her breathe. Comforting Emma, while trying not to laugh, on her first birthday after Jack had stuck her hands into her miniature birthday cake. The picture she had taken -- her absolute favorite picture ever -- of Jack asleep on the couch, and Emma sleeping on his chest, that was centered on their mantle. The Christmas when Emma was two that Jack dressed up as Santa Claus, despite the 90 degree weather. Just the three of them being together.
Her and Jack's relationship -- their "marriage" -- had only grown stronger. That didn't mean it was always easy. Far from it. They still fought as much as ever, going out of their way on more than one occasion to piss the other off. Somewhere along the way, though, Kate's walls had tumbled down. Trusting Jack wasn't even an issue any longer. Somewhere along the line their love had stopped being the volatile, breathing thing it once was. It had become static. She never once questioned whether she had made the right decision by becoming Kate Shephard on that plane ride.
And somewhere along the road, somewhere that she couldn't quite pinpoint, Kate had realized she wasn't running anymore.
She was snapped out of her reverie by, "Baby, don't climb the tree. Come on down."
The adventurous attitude might have come from her mom, but the stubborn look her face was now scrunched into was all Jack. "No, Daddy. I'm a monkey."
"Oh, really?" Jack smiled up at her. "And all this time I was thinking you were my four year old daughter. I guess I'll have to go back to the store and exchange those cupcakes I bought for some bananas."
"Daddy," Emma rolled her hazel eyes heaven-ward. "You know I'm not really a monkey."
"Are you sure?" Jack asked, crossing his arms and pretending to size her up. "Because you look like a monkey to me."
Emma expertly dropped down from the tree, and raised her arms up, waiting for Jack to pick her up. He did, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "See, it's me. Emma Shephard. You're so silly, Daddy."
"No, you're so silly," Jack laughed and tickled Emma's tummy into Kate called out to them.
"You're both so silly!"
Emma quickly wriggled out of Jack's arms, and hurried over to Kate, crawling into her lap. "You're so pretty, Mommy." Patting Kate's cheek, she turned to Jack, "Isn't Mommy pretty, Daddy?"
Jack walked over and kissed Kate on the forehead. "The prettiest."
Kate smiled up at Jack as he picked Emma up off her lap. Their daughter exploded into a spiel of giggles as Jack turned her upside down, holding her so the ends of her hair brushed the ground. He smiled at Kate, "Are you hungry?"
"Daddy!" Emma giggled. "How can you think about food when all of my blood is rushing right up to my brains?"
"Sorry," Jack grinned, setting her back down on the ground. "I thought monkeys liked hanging upside down."
Emma turned to Kate and sighed. "Mommy, can you puh-lease tell Daddy than I am not really a monkey?"
Kate laughed and stood up, tugging on Emma's curly brunette ponytail. "Want to help Mommy make dinner?"
Emma nodded and her eyes grew wide. "Can we have cupcakes?"
"For dessert," Kate laughed and nodded. "But Mommy was thinking that we would probably have lasagna for dinner."
Emma's nose wrinkled. "Not that gross lasagna with vegetables, right, Mommy? We can have the kind with real food in it?"
Kate couldn't help but smirk as she heard Jack snicker behind her. Like father like daughter. Nodding, she turned Emma around and scooted her in the direction of the house, "Go on and wash your hands and Mommy and Daddy will be in in a minute."
As Emma scurried into the house, Jack pulled Kate into a hug. Brushing his lips against her ear, he whispered, "You are the prettiest."
Kate laughed, resting her head against his chest. "I love you, Jack."
Jack kissed her softly. "What do you say we put Emma to bed a little early tonight? All her jumping around is bound to take its toll on her anyway."
Kate nodded, meeting his lips again. It was one of the best things about her and Jack's relationship. No matter how tiring of a day she or he had, no matter what had gone on, they still always managed to find time for each other at the end of the day. It wasn't always making love, sometimes they would just hold each other and talk. But the making love was her favorite.
Jack pulled away, resting a hand on her noticeably large stomach. "Is he being restless today?"
"Not too bad," Kate rested her hand on top of Jack's. "He's a lot calmer than Emma ever was. I think he'll be more like you."
Jack laughed and leaned down, talking directly to Kate's stomach. "Are you more like me than Mommy, little buddy? We'll see about that."
Kate brushed her hand through Jack's grey-speckled hair. "I was thinking maybe we could name him Christian."
Jack stood and met her eyes. He held her gaze for a minute before pulling her back into a hug. Neither of them said anything. They didn't need to.
She had been right all those years ago. Whenever she was with Jack, she felt at home. It had just taken a little longer to realize that it was because Jack was her home. He always had been, ever since she had first met him. But like most things, she had just been a little slow in realizing it. She had finally reached a point where her past finally made sense to her. Every decision she made led her to Jack.
Their embrace was broken up by Emma wiggling in between them. "Mommy, Daddy! Stop being so mushy and come on. You can kiss later, my tummy is rumbly right now."
"Alright, alright," Jack laughed as Emma took both of their hands, practically dragging them towards the house. "How about after we eat, you and me can play a little Nintendo?"
Emma nodded. "Okay. But you're still not going to beat me at Duck Hunt."
The wind caught their laughter, carrying it on, as the three of them passed hand-in-hand through the front door, under the carved wooden sign that welcomed anyone who came to visit them:
Wherever we love is home.
