Epilogue: December and Beyond

Epilogue

December and Beyond

The housing market crashed, but I was still having trouble finding a suitable house for me, four kids, and sometimes Holly. A week before Christmas, Holly and I were house hunting when we came across the perfect place. It was in a gated community with its own pool, Jacuzzi, and pool house. Seven bedrooms, right in the heart of Mission Valley.

“How much is it,” I asked.

“Two-point-five million dollars,” she replied.

“That's a little out of my price range.”

“But not mine,” she said, getting down on one knee. She took a diamond-encrusted platinum ring out of her purse and said, “Mike Roberts, will you marry me?” I heard a camera flash. It was Jessica, her daughter.

“Yes,” I said, “yes, with all my heart.”

She had me sign a prenuptial agreement. In the case of dissolution of the marriage for any reason, the house was hers, but the money from the motorcycle accident was mine. She adopted Trout, Edison, Mimi, and Josiah. We hired a live-in nanny who doubled as a maid and cook. We toyed with the idea of hiring a younger nanny who I could possibly sleep with but nixed it as being too complicated a scenario.

We've never had sex in all these years. I've never asked for it, and we've only joked about it a handful of times. We cuddle, we sometimes kiss. My masturbation habits are done in private, just like the other biological functions we do in the restroom. I'm active on AdultFriends.com like before, but my relationship status is now “married.”

Trout and Edison are in middle school, Mimi's in high school, and Josiah's in college. Jessica is married with kids of her own. And me? I'm doing good. Three times married, twice a widower. The school for the Deaf doesn't pay that well, but I've kept almost all of my settlement money. The man who killed Naomi is out of jail. He and his wife lost their house and their two businesses, but they're still together somehow. He's been sober for almost 10 years, and he has a job. I met him at an AA meeting, where I was interpreting for a Deaf alcoholic. I told him I forgave him, and he hugged me.