Chapter 7: Epilogue

6 months later

Padding quietly on bare feet through their large, sunlit, Grecian villa, Liz heads for the back door and the large in-ground pool that lies beyond, looking for Red. Her sheer, white cover-up - tugged hastily on over her red, string bikini - flutters gently around her form in the sea-scented, summer breeze as she opens the door and steps outside, only to be greeted by a familiar splashing. Standing under the terrace that shades the beautifully paved patio, Liz leans against one of the pillars and watches her husband, studiously doing laps in their gorgeous, crystal clear swimming pool.

Not a bad view at all.

He's been making a greater effort to exercise lately, having no trouble coaxing Agnes and Liz to join him in walks on the beach and time in the pool, and telling Liz he wants to stay as fit as possible for the sake of his family. Liz watches as Red does a few more passes down and up the length of the pool before stopping to catch his breath, whereupon - wiping water out of his eyes - he also catches sight of her. Beaming to find her standing there, Red wastes no time in swimming quickly to the steps and hauling himself up out of the pool, water dripping attractively down his more compact, defined form and off the bottom of his swim trunks.

She told Red he didn't need to lose weight or build up muscle on her behalf - she loves him in any form - but when he insisted he was doing it for their family and himself…well, she's not going to complain.

Besides, he has another reason.

As Red reaches for his towel, draped over the back of a chaise lounge nearby along with a dry t-shirt, Liz's hands float instinctively to her stomach, already beginning to round and stretch at nearly ten weeks pregnant.

(Or, as she learned a number of hours ago…two other reasons.)

"See something you like?" Red calls cheekily, tugging his shirt over his head and laying his wet towel over the chaise lounge to dry before heading over to where she's standing.

"Well, not anymore," she complains lightly, successfully getting a barking laugh out of him.

As he joins her under the terrace, he takes her into his arms right away, pressing a damp, chlorine-tasting kiss to her lips.

"So, how was the doctor?" he asks anxiously when he pulls back, placing a warm hand over her stomach through her cover-up. "Does everything look healthy?"

"Yep, the doctor says everything's great," Liz reports happily, trying to bite back a bigger smile.

"I'm sorry I couldn't go with you this time, sweetheart," he murmurs regretfully.

"Oh, that's okay, Red," Liz consoles him. "It's so early, you can barely see anything on the ultrasound. Besides, Agnes needed you to take her to dance class! How did she do?"

"Oh, wonderful!" Red praises, immediately launching into a play-by-play of their nearly eight-year-old daughter's class that she asked him to stay and watch, just as Liz knew he would. "The teacher asked her to demonstrate some moves for the other students, she's obviously the most talented one there…"

Liz smiles and nods, listening and watching his usual animated descriptions with relish, but also with half of her mind still back in her doctor's office this morning, watching the technician point to not one, but two small, black and white blobs on the computer screen, one labeled 'Baby A' and one 'Baby B'.

(And she can't wait to tell him, of course, but she wants to make it special, think of some private, meaningful way that they'll remember forever and - besides that - she wants to keep this beautiful secret of what she's carrying in her womb to herself for just a tiny bit longer, feeling like she's walking on air with every step, so wonderfully, beautifully in love with their growing family.)

"Lizzie?" Red asks, finally grabbing her attention and startling her out of her thoughts. "Are you alright? You look a million miles away…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," Liz apologizes quickly. "I'm fine, I promise, just a little tired from the appointment today, I guess…"
"Maybe you should go lay down," Red frets, sweet as can be. "Let's go upstairs, I'll help you get comfortable -"

"No, it's okay, Red, really. I feel fine, I promise," Liz soothes, patting his chest to placate him. "Besides, I have plans. I promised Agnes that we'd paint together! She's waiting for me upstairs in the studio. Wanna come?"

Never one to pass up an opportunity to spend time with his girls, Red nods enthusiastically and takes her hand, happily allowing her to lead him inside and back through the house to Liz's art studio upstairs, a beautiful, spacious room that was a gift from Red.

(It was one of the first unnecessary but extremely touching presents he gave her when they arrived in Greece, second only to a sapphire-laden engagement ring, matching wedding bands, and a small, private ceremony on the beach, with Agnes by their side holding a basket of seashells in lieu of flower petals, wearing a pretty, pink dress, and wiggling her bare toes in the sand out of pure, giddy happiness.)

Red had had the studio furnished and decorated in secret after they moved in and presented it to Liz upon completion as a place to which she could retreat if she felt the need to paint. It's now similar to her bedroom in her loch-side house in Scotland, with canvases - some painted and some blank - either propped against or stacked on top of nearly every surface, with paint and turpentine and brushes and easels scattered everywhere in some vague configuration of organized clutter.

However, the finished paintings stored in various places around the room - and the ones hung throughout the house that Red declared too beautiful not to be displayed - are as different as can be from the paintings that filled her room in Scotland. Instead of achingly familiar portraits and reminders of their painful past, this room is filled with beautiful beachscapes, inspired by the Grecian coastline that is mere miles from their back door. The hyperrealism and smooth blending of bright colors makes for a distinctly different room, something filled with happiness and sunlight at nearly all hours of the day, as well as one other crucial difference…

There's a little girl waiting for them here.

Almost since the moment they arrived in Greece and Agnes saw Liz paint for the first time, she expressed an unexpected interest in Liz's cherished hobby, and Liz has taken great pleasure in teaching her daughter how to paint, and - to Liz's delight - her fascination has yet to wear off. Of everything they've tried together, Agnes's favorite mediums remain balloon dart painting and splatter painting, and Liz keeps a special station set up against the back wall of the studio, with protective sheets of plastic taped on the walls and floor and large canvas panels hung on nails.

Now, as they enter studio, Agnes cheers with delight when she sees Liz has brought Red with her, and wastes no time in grabbing his hand to show him how she filled balloons with watered-down acrylic paint and affixed them to the canvases with thumbtacks, just like Liz showed her. Smiling at her daughter's boundless enthusiasm, Liz gathers the darts strewn over the supplies table from their last session and tosses them into the small bowl they keep in the studio for that exact purpose, bringing it over to Red and Agnes once she's collected them all to officially begin painting.

As always, Agnes gets to throw the first dart, hitting a balloon filled with pretty purple paint and laughing happily when it dribbles down the canvas. Red goes next and hits a balloon to the left of Agnes's that - by some cosmic coincidence - contains pink paint, making Liz and Agnes giggle madly. Liz goes last, piercing a balloon on the far right in the side and spraying light blue paint pleasingly across the canvas.

Agnes goes again and the cycle continues as they take turns, popping the balloons one by one to create a unique, colorful, abstract pattern that's somehow a combination of all of them, a perfect portrait of their little family, accompanied by the sound of Agnes's laughter and a feeling of happiness that floats through the air and permeates the studio like dust in the sunlight.

Tearing her adoring eyes away from her beaming husband and laughing daughter with difficulty, Liz takes a moment to look around the room, feeling happier than she ever remembers being in her whole life. As she looks, she muses quietly to herself that her art is now the opposite of what it used to be for her, both in Scotland and further back in her childhood. Instead of drawing to keep the nightmares away, she now paints to preserve the happy times that have become her life.

Because her hands don't itch like they used to anymore, not since they took hold of Red's and never let go, and now her arms are full of Agnes, and they yearn only to hold their growing twins, dual bundles of joy that will be here before she knows it.

And she can't wait to paint with their new little ones, looking forward to dipping their tiny hands and feet in paint and making silly art, things she knows Red will hang all over their house right alongside her beachscapes with all the pride in the world and the singular goal of surrounding them with the proof of their love.

(And later, after she kisses Agnes goodnight, she'll fall asleep with her babies fluttering inside her, Red's heartbeat in her ear, and the sound of waves from the distant shore. Because, as with all things in her life now - in this idyllic and calm place - she is soothed by water.

And the halcyon days to come.)

fin