AN; Here is my epilogue. It's a twelve year jump to the future, and it's almost a one-shot. Anyways, it was a lot of fun to write this fic, and a great thanks to my readers and to the reviewers, specially Dianehermans, Sandygirl, arubagirl0926 and mariposa101. As usual, I own nothing connected with OTH.

Chapter 19

Lucas heard the front door open and close, and made an educated guess about who had just arrived. "Pitts?"

A light brown face with expressive black eyes and short hair shows up at his study's door. "Hi, dad. What's up?"

"Your mother and I wanted to talk to you. Please, sit. I'll just call her down. Brooke spent a lot of time in her studio, which occupied about half of the top floor of our brownstone. I use the interphone. "Pretty Girl?"

"Husband?"

"Pitts is here."

"I'll be coming down."

I look at Pitts, who appears to be the picture of innocence. At seventeen, he is an incredibly handsome young man, thin, soulful, sharp as a dagger, with a velvety bass voice and a honey

tongue. Brooke gets in, and closes the door behind her.

"We got a call from school today. It appears that your other half caught a three day suspension for beating the crap out of a boy a year older and twice her size. Would you please explain?"

He smiles, a clear feel of pride in his face. "You think I did it, and she is covering for me?"

"In a word, yes."

"In confidence?"

I exchange a look with Brooke. We both new we'd get nothing out of him otherwise. "Yes."

"Nope. I just made sure his friends didn't intervene. She did the beating. The fucker deserved it."

"What did he do?"

"Well, there's this boy in her class, a very sweet fellow that auntie likes a lot. Not likes as in kissing, just likes. He is gay, but firmly in the closet. This guy, Marcus, he is a bully, and him and his friends have been tormenting auntie's friend for weeks. He became depressed, and auntie was afraid he would drop out, or even worse. Auntie told him firmly to stop it, but Marcus just laughed. He said "What you gonna do? Send your nigger boy to rough me up?" So she decided to put a stop to it.

"How?"

"She got some of her friends to create a distraction, then called him out in public. Called him a moron, a fucking retard, a coward and a loser. In the end, he lost it and went after her. She used a rolled up girly magazine, caught him first in the face, then in the balls. Kicked him in the ribs a couple of times for good measure. She was wearing combat boots to school today. Half the school saw it, but we didn't let anyone video it. I don't think that ass is going to show his face in school after getting beat up in public by a little girl."

"What about the authorities?"

"That would probably mean dragging her friend out of the closet."

I look at Brooke. "What do you think?" She shrugs.

"What do you think, Pitts?"

"I'm so proud of her I want to explode."

"I get that. Did you explore other options?"

"We discussed it at length last week. This seemed the safest and most effective."

"Assuming she would be able to beat him up." Pitts just smiles.

"I see. It was never in doubt."

"Do you know auntie?"

Fourteen years old, five foot four, one hundred twenty pounds, whipcord fast and a gymnast. As smart as Pitts, just as brave and just as cool headed. Looks as delicate as a flower too. Perfect for their plan. Does this warrant punishment? I look at Brooke, and she signals negative with her head.

I guess we'll just pay a quiet visit to Father Principal. Five children in the school, plus generous donations every year do buy us a sympathetic ear, at least.

"Anything else?"

"I got a letter." He rummages through his backpack and gets out a crumpled letter. From Julliard.

"You didn't open?"

"I was hoping auntie would."

"Do you mind?"

Brooke picks up the letter. "Let me do the honors." She picks up a letter opener from my desk and opens it. She pulls the piece of paper out. We've been married for nearly twelve years, and she'll still beat me up at poker four times out of five. "Dear Mr. Brody-Scott, It is a pleasure to inform you have been accepted at the Julliard Academy for the fall of 2017, as a double major in piano performance and composition..." The three of us start jumping up and down and screaming. It was possible, but by no means certain. Very soon the rest of the gang joins us. Aidan Keith, eleven, black haired, green eyed copy of Brooke, right down to the dimples. Brooke was sixteen weeks pregnant the day we got married. We believe he was conceived on our first valentine day date. And the blonde, blue eyed eight-year-old twins Anne Marie and Elizabeth Haley. We are still celebrating when Pitts partner in crime Lily shows up, and we get to celebrate again.

The best part? Pitts stays in New York for another four years.

She is a green eyed redhead, thin and delicate, and her name is Siobhan Graham. I met her at the orientation for new students at Julliard. She is a mezzo-soprano with a voice like melting chocolate and the temper of a drill sergeant. We've dated a few times, and I really like her,but I need my best friend's seal of approval. This means a brunch date at the Plaza. We get there first, auntie and I and we wait for a fashionable twenty minutes, before Siobhan arrives.

How does a seventeen-year-old boy ends up with a fourteen-year-old girl as best friend? It all started with a promise. Grandma Karen said she would send Lily to New York for a month every year, if I promised to take care of her. She first came Thanksgiving the year mom and dad got married, leaving back to New Zealand after New Year. She was two at the time, and I was six. I spent every single awake moment I was in the house with her. Aidan was born that November, and he was a colicky and demanding baby, so I figured taking care of Lily was my job. After she left, I missed her terribly, so I spent two months during the Summer in New Zealand, again spending every waking moment with her. She came to New York that December, but when she went back, she was inconsolable. She came to live with us a month after that, with the understanding she would spend Summers in New Zealand. We became inseparable. During Summers I would go with her to New Zealand. When she was six, Gramma Karen asked Daddy to adopt her, so she is my auntie-sister. In fact, bottom line, Lily owns my heart, and I own hers.

She is wearing a light green summer dress, mommy designed, if I'm not mistaken and low white sandals. He hair is braided and prettily arranged around her head. "Hi, Peter."

"Siobhan, this is Lily, my best friend."

She takes it in stride. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Is that a Clothes-over-Bros?"

"Sure is. I love their stuff. Half my closet is CoB or Brooke Scott. Is she any relation of yours?"

"Our mom."

"Wow. I had no idea. So, you two are siblings."

"Lily is my aunt, sister, cousin, partner in crime and bff."

Siobhan giggles, with a sound like silver bells. "Sounds complicated. How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not at all. I'm fourteen. What about you?"

"I just turned eighteen. I'm from Boston. My family is all firefighters, cops and plumbers."

"Do you have siblings?"

"Two older brothers, cop and firefighter, and a fifteen-year-old sister, Jennifer. What about you guys?"

"Pitts is the oldest, and I'm second. We have three younger siblings, Aidan, eleven, and a pair of eight-year-old twin girls, Annie and Lizzie. Pitts was adopted when he was five. I'm Daddy's baby sister, but my father, who was Daddy's uncle, died before I was born. Daddy adopted me when I was six, a little before the twins were born. My mom is Karen, Pitts Gramma, but I call Brooke mom anyways, because everyone else does it, and she is the coolest. They are all my nephews and nieces, siblings and cousins, but Pitts here is, I don't know... my better half."

I laugh. "She is right, you know. If someone tries to bully me, I just threaten to call my scary little aunt. If they know anything, they just run for the hills."

"He is being mean. You look like a princess."

"Ask me later about the bully, the little princess and the September issue of Seventeen."

Lily giggles. My favorite sound on the planet. "So, Pretty Girl, what are your intentions with my nephew?"

"I just want him for a boy toy. Is that ok?"

"Oh, I'm sure he can put your through your paces. He certainly has the right equipment. But he's got a tender heart. Hurt him, and I'll cut you up into pieces and feed you to the sewer's alligators."

"I thought these were just an urban legend."

"Oh, they were. Until auntie brought a breeding couple from the Everglades and let them loose near the brownstone a couple of years ago. I hear they are thriving now."

Now both of them laugh. I can see that Lily approves of Siobhan, which is all I needed to know anyways. "Shall we order?"

He is sitting by the computer, typing away furiously. Seven books in fourteen years, two movies, a TV series and a Booker award, and he still pours his heart into it as always. He writes hard in the off season, because basketball is still his favorite mistress. Four years now as head coach of NYU's boy team, and one, very unexpected and much cherished, NCAA title. I'm a little sorry to interrupt him, but it can't be helped. "Husband."

He lifts his head and gives me a sunny smile, which makes my heart skip a bit, as always. Every day, I think I couldn't possibly love this man more, and every day, I prove myself wrong. "Pretty Girl."

I give him the little stick, written "pregnant" in the visor. He reads it, and he lifts his eyes, wet with tears. "They told us it was impossible."

"They used the word "unlikely". Call it our little miracle."

"When is the appointment?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I sent the brood a message. Dinner tomorrow at seven on La Fiametta. I made reservations."

"I don't have words..." I lock the study's door, and sit on his lap.

"You don't need words."

We kiss, and then we kiss some more. Finally, he bends me over his desk and lifts my skirt. I had conveniently forgotten to put on panties, and I had on the five inch heels that puts me at just the right height. He fills me up, as I use my fingers as he grabs me roughly by the hips. It's fast and it's practiced, but no less satisfying despite that.

"I needed that."

He saves his work and closes the computer. There's an open bottle of white wine in his little fridge. He grabs two glasses, serves me a finger's worth and pours a glass to himself. "To our little miracle."

I smile. "To our little miracle."

We touch our glasses and we drink. "Pitts came to see me at the studio this morning."

"What did he want?"

"He is planning to move out at the end of Summer. He's looking for a place to rent."

"Does he have enough money?"

"Oh yes. Between his job at the church, occasional gigs across town and his students, he makes enough money to rent a nice little flat somewhere in Queens, for example."

"We could buy him a nice loft somewhere on the island."

"There is a caveat."

"Yes?"

"He wants Lily to go live with him."

He gets up and starts pacing. "Shit. I should have seen this coming."

Our hands are somewhat tied. We can't say no to him. He is going to be eighteen in a couple of months, a college student with his own income. We can say no to Lily. She'll agree with whatever we say and do exactly as she pleases. We can ship her to New Zealand, and have our five children burn the brownstone down around us. Pitts is the head, and Lily is the heart of our brood and they never disagree on anything.

"A partial surrender?"

"You know we can always negotiate with Pitts. He is the rational half of the pair. But he will do whatever she wants."

"And to think I used to find their partnership adorable."

"It is adorable, Broody. Don't you wish you had someone like that in your life?"

"Oh, but I do. Two someones, in fact. But Haley was rational too, not an unthinking force of nature."

"You mean, Lily is more like your mother, or myself?"

"That's right, I guess. Knowing Lily, I stand amazed that Dan survived what he did."

"If your mother had Pitts, instead of Keith, he wouldn't have."

Lucas laughs. "Together, they are pretty cool, aren't they? Your mother used to say that the two of us make a formidable pair. Those two are just the universe way of balancing things, make us feel a little more humble."

Brooke calls me up to the studio. It's a beautiful room, about fifteen hundred square feet, with skylights, apparent roof supports, several working spaces, sofas, a meeting table. Once in a while, some A-list celebrity or another shows up to discuss a Brooke Davis outfit, but, for the most part, it's her sanctuary. She makes a hundred million a year in creative work from this room, while the whole fashion world awaits, trembling, for what's going to be happening the following year. Pitts is already there when I arrive.

"Hey, son, Pretty Girl."

"Hi Daddy."

"Mom told me about your plans."

He stretches to his five foot ten, and looks calmly at me. "Do you have a problem?"

"Lily. She is too young, and mom wouldn't approve. She might end up back in New Zealand."

Pitts laughs. "Nice try, dad."

"Gramma usually gets what she wants, son."

"I can attest to that, sweetie. She can be just as scary as Lily, and the law is on her side."

He hesitates. "Do you have a counter-proposal?"

"Yes. Wait a year. Next Summer, we will buy you a very nice pad somewhere on the island."

"What about Lily?"

"She keeps quarters in both places, sleeps here at least four times a week until she turns sixteen. After she turns sixteen, she can move to your place."

"Two times a week."

"Three times and you got yourself a deal."

"Deal."

"Do you make enough money to support both of you?"

He laughs. "She makes more money than I do, dad."

Brooke and I stare. "How?"

He laughs some more. "Absolutely in confidence, with no interference?"

I exchange a glance with Brooke. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear. "Deal."

"She is very well connected, and has the morals of an alley cat."

"All right."

"A couple of times a month, she hears some juicy gossip nobody knows about yet. She investigates a bit, quietly asking around our school mates and her other contacts. Then she writes an article for one of the tabloids. She usually gets five to ten, depending on how nice her tidbit is. She gets her money in an account on the Caymans and has a black amex all her own. Last I heard she had a couple hundred grand salted away."

"She can get caught for tax evasion."

"I know. I've been telling her that for a year now. She thinks I'm being paranoid."

Brooke produces a card from her purse. "Son, this is the personal contact of our lawyers. Please, get her to take a meeting and explore options. She can pay the lawyers herself, and we'll look the other way. We would really like it if she stays out of jail."

"When you move out, we'll set you guys up with a nice little trust fund, so that you can focus on what you want to do, rather than on making a living. The same goes for Lily. Just insist with her that she can't have that much fun at Camp Fed."

Brooke asks him. "Is she sexually active, son?"

"Still in confidence and no interference? You guys are going to like this one."

"All right."

"As I said, the morals of an alley cat. She is a born slut, albeit with a huge heart, as you know. I made her promise she would wait until she is sixteen to give it out. It chafes, but she's never broken one of her promises to me. So, since she was twelve, she has been planning on this glorious threesome she is going to have on her birthday. She's even picked out the boys."

Brooke and I have a hard time trying to stop laughing. "Tell her to forget about the threesome, sweety. It looks good in theory, but it is uncomfortable and awkward in practice. Tell her to find a sweet, experienced older boy or young man she likes. Go on a couple of dates, and tell him she wants to lose her V, and spend the night in a nice hotel. Avoid alcohol. And try to enjoy herself."

"All right, mom. Thanks. I'll pass it on. You know what is my worst fear at this moment?"

"What?"

"That I finally find a girl like her, which is not my aunt or my sister, and I don't have what it takes to grab hold of her heart."

I smile. "Well, son, I found my alley cat. Grabbing her heart was the easy part. The trick would have been to stay far away from her crazy best friend. But, in truth, I had no idea what I was looking for. You do."

"What about Siobhan, sweetie?"

"She's promising. Her voice drives me absolutely nuts. Sometimes I need to take a cold shower after I talk to her on the phone. And Lily approves."

"Well, good luck."

She is lying in my bed, wearing one of my t-shirts. "Don't you have your own pj's?"

"I like the smell of yours. So?"

"Hook, line and sinker. You can start shopping for a nice loft in six months or so."

"Nice. Good job, nephew."

"I have two pieces of advice from them to you."

She sits on the bed. She knows the parentals are no fools. "Yes?"

First I give her the lawyer's card. "They say you're vulnerable to a tax evasion charge. That's two to ten in Club Fed. They beg you to take a meeting with one of their lawyers and explore options. They also said they will set us up with a nice trust fund when we leave the house."

"All right, will do. What next?"

"Mom says threesomes are overrated. Find a nice experienced boy or young man, romance him a bit and warn him of your V condition. She says you'll probably enjoy yourself a lot more that way."

"Yeah. I was already going in that direction. I'll try the threesome after I dispose of the V problem. So, are you going forward with Red?"

"I haven't told her of my V problem yet, but I think so."

"Leave the talking to me."

"You sure?"

"Why not? If I can't do it for you, I might as well just meddle a bit."

"I love you auntie."

"And I love you too, nephew. Sleep tight."

I meet Red for a hot dog lunch at Washington Square. "Hey, Red. What's up?"

"Nothing much, princess. You called the meet. What can I do for you?"

"It's about our boy. Are you serious about him?"

"As the plague, sweetie. Just thinking of those long fingers of his..."

I smile. He does have very nice looking fingers. "The rest is built to scale."

"And you know that how?" I just look at her, narrowed eyes. "All right, stupid question."

"Have you been around the block, Red?"

"You mean, previous relationships? Oh, yes. Six months in sophomore year, my first, a bunch of flings junior year and a pretty serious MIT student senior year. I thought that one was endgame, but he turned jealous and boring after a while."

"All right. You see, the thing is, our boy has a slight V problem."

She raises her voice. "You mean he is a virgin?"

"Yes. Is that a problem? He's been to third base many times. He knows what a girl looks like and what she likes. But he's never, you know, been there."

"Red starts jumping up and down with excitement. Oh my god, Oh my god! I get to corrupt the cutest boy I've ever known?"

"You think he's the cutest boy you've ever known?"

"Don't you?"

"I do, but I'm biased. You just made my day, Red. Be nice with my nephew, ok."

"Trust me, princess. I'll get him so whipped he won't know which way is up anymore."

I smile. I think Red is underestimating our boy, but, that's fine. If she's the one that ends up not knowing which way is up, at least she already appreciates him.

He comes home around ten in the morning, looking smug. "So?"

He gives me his sweetest smile. "She was purring like a kitten when I left. She sung my name in B flat. Four times."

"What about you?"

"Three times. With her throat muscles, and her trained vocal cords she probably gives the best head in the world. And she hums while she does it. And a couple of times in the baby place. She is gorgeous, skillful and enthusiastic."

"You think she's a keeper?"

"I hope so. I could fall for her, I think."

"Just take it easy. Red is pretty cool, but we don't know what may be coming down the pipeline."

"All right. Thanks for the help, auntie. You know you can count on me when it's your turn."

She sighs. "Just keep an eye out for the right boy. I'm sure there will be a couple of straight kids at Jullliard that might suit."

Every year, the New York Symphony does a competition for young composers and performers. The first three places in either category get to play at a special concert at Carnegie Hall, the performers playing the composer's pieces. Since Rodrigo became the maestro, the winner pieces became a little edgier. Well, this year, something new happened. A young Julliard freshman won first prize as composer and third prize as performer. The piece, entitled "Central Park" is a four part concerto for piano and orchestra and, after some shuffling, it was decides that the young composer would perform his own piece.

"Ladies and Gentleman, Peter Alexander Brody-Scott, performing his own piece, the Central Park Concerto in D major."

Before we begin this performance, let me say a few words. When I was four years old, I spent a whole day lost, or maybe abandoned in Central Park. A terrifying experience, which I remember a little. I was rescued by a couple of teenagers, who, after incredible patience and care, managed to return me to my family. A few months later, fate intervened, and I was returned to the care of this couple, who took me in, and eventually adopted me. Since then, I've lived next to the park, and had most of my favorite moments there. Central Park means everything to me. I dedicate this performance to that amazing couple, Brooke and Lucas Scott, Mommy and Daddy.

The first movement is a fast, nervous piece, representing the experience of being lost. It ends in a chaotic superposition of sound. The second movement, andante, represents being found, the slow calming and the end of terror, and being returned to the family. The third movement is the return to the Park and to the adoptive parents, the nervous readaptation and the beginning of joy. The fourth movement, Aleggro Vivace, is a walk in the park as a young teenager, with his beloved aunt by the hand. Pure joy in being alive and loved.

There's a party at the brownstone after the concert. Everybody is there. Grandad Matt and Mother Alice, two years sober, Siobhan, looking stunning on one of Mom's creations, Uncle Nathan, Aunt Haley, Jamie and Lydia, Uncle Julian, Aunt Peyton and little Sawyer, Aunt Faith, Grams Victoria, Gramma Karen, Granpa Andy and uncle Simon, Aunt Rachel, Mommy, three months pregnant, Daddy, auntie, Aidan and the twins. I play a couple of arias for Siobhan. She never fails to give me a hard on when she sings, much to auntie's amusement, and aunt Haley plays a couple of her songs.

"Nephew."

"Auntie?"

"If I create a distraction, you can vanish with Red for fifteen minutes. What do you say?"

"Go for it."

"I grab Siobhan and run up the stairs, as the twins, with uncle Simon, Sawyer and Lydia start playing catch noisily among the grown ups. She was just as much in need as I was. I guess my piano has the same effect on her that her singing has on me. A match made in heaven. After a month with her, I'm quite smitten. I haven't used the L word with her yet, but I should have. She is not auntie, and thank goodness she isn't, but she can hold her own, and even give back some.

"A quickie?"

"Mom!" She is smiling at me. "Yes."

"Good job. I like her, you know. She's got spunk. And she is in totally in love with you."

"Yeah, I may have found my alley cat. And I think I managed to grab her heart too, as she has mine. I'm going to Boston next week with her, to get to know her family."

"Is Lily going too?"

"Of course."

"You know, you can't keep the joined at the hip act forever."

I laugh. "We know. We just plan to keep the act for as long as we can, and then a little bit more. Siobhan gets it too. She is almost as captivated by auntie as I am"

"Well, at some point, she is going to find someone..."

"There is a boy. Hm. In confidence?"

"Of course."

"He's a basketball player. Foolish, but quite sweet. A sophomore. Auntie has been a little spacey lately."

"Do you know if she's going to cheer next year?"

"I think there's already a spot on the squad with her name on it. I suspect she has something on the captain of the squad."

"And so it begins..."

"You know it."

THE END