EPILOGUE

"And I got nothing but

well wishes for ya!"

————

Fall 2020 - Manhattan, New York

"This is a crisis!"

"It is absolutely not."

"How could you say that! Were you even listening to what the doctor said?!"

"She's only allergic to one thing," Taylor said, opening the door to let Dorothea exit the building. "I'd say she got lucky."

"Lucky?" Dorothea repeated, stepping through the opening with Ivy on her hip.

"She's two years old," the singer chuckled, "she doesn't even know what peanuts are."

"And now she never will!" Dorothea cried.

"Mama quiet!" Ivy screeched.

"Mama's being a drama queen, isn't she?" Taylor smiled, reaching and doing one of the buttons on Ivy's coat.

"There's no way," Dorothea continued, shaking her head as she kicked at the red and orange leaves scattered on the sidewalk. "That test must have been wrong."

"Right. So when they take her blood for the do-over, would you like to hold her down this time?" Taylor suggested.

"God, that had to be the loudest she's ever screamed." Dorothea shuddered.

"Girl's got lungs," Taylor said, smirking, "wonder who she gets it from?"

"No idea,"

"Mhm."

"So, are you going to give our baby voice lessons? Or are we choosing to let this talent go to waste?" Dorothea asked.

A dry laugh escaped the singer. "I'll let Ivy decide that for herself. Personally, I've been a big fan of off-key Baby Shark."

Dorothea groaned, "Don't even say it—"

"Hey, Bug! You know Mama's favorite song, yeah?" Taylor prompted, tickling Ivy's neck. "What's Mama's song?"

"Mama do do do do do!" Ivy sang, grabbing a righteous, tiny fistful of of Dorothea's jacket collar (and more than likely a few strands of hair, as well). "Do—Do do do do—Do do!"

"Yeah, do do—Hey!" Dorothea placed her hand over her daughter's mouth playfully and smiled. "New question: Whose milkshakes bring all the girls to the yard?"

"Mommy milkshakes!" Ivy shrieked.

"Fabulous. And now instead of giving Mama her special present tonight, I'll be changing our Spotify password for the fifteenth time," Taylor declared stiffly, avoiding the eyes of several people as they walked by.

"A bit of advice: You might want to try something other than some combination of the cats' names," Dorothea hinted.

"A bit of advice: You might want to find a new favorite spread for your toast—"

"Excuse me?" Dorothea scoffed, "I am not giving up peanut butter!"

"It's going in the trash as soon as we get home,"

"Absolutely not—"

"Okay, Diva. Since you wanna keep playing the selfish card, I'll let you handle any allergic reactions that come along—"

"You're not throwing it out—"

"Quiet Diva!" Ivy's amber eyes squinted as she made a clumsy attempt to cover Dorothea's mouth with her hand.

Taylor covered her own mouth to stop herself from cackling. "Mama's too loud, isn't she?"

"Loud..." Ivy pouted in agreement, sticking her fingers in her mouth. But then suddenly, an invisible switch went off and she smacked her hand against Dorothea's mouth, evoking a gasp out of the singer. "No talk!"

"All right. You're Mommy's problem now," Dorothea decided, planting the toddler in Taylor's arms. "She could use a slap."

"Mama's just grieving, Peanut," Taylor explained, happily snuggling the toddler close, "you know she's not normally this loud or mean. Well, at least until you go to sleep—"

"More importantly, I think she's lost her rights to that nickname—"

"Dorothea—"

"But why peanuts?" Dorothea sighed, tucking a loose piece of hair behind Ivy's ear, "Why couldn't you be scared of something like tomatoes? Or, I don't know, cheese—"

Taylor cut the woman off with an airy, dramatic gasp, stopping them mid-stride. "Oh my god!"

"Uh-uh—No way." Dorothea reached for the blonde's elbow as soon as her eyes met the storefront. "We're not stopping. Let's go—"

"Oh my god, look at the shoes! Oh—" Taylor stepped towards the shop window, pointing at a tiny pair of green, red, and black-plaid rain boots, studded with little gold bees. "How are they already out with the spring collection?" She marveled, turning towards the brunette. "Babe, we have to go in! They'll probably have her size—"

"Nope," Dorothea interjected firmly, taking a leading step, "she's already filled two closets."

"There's still that spare one..." Taylor mentioned hopefully.

"What one is that?"

"You know..." Taylor found the woman's fingers with her free hand, meeting her eyes cautiously. "Next to the linen closet—"

"Oh, you mean the one with my camera equipment,"Dorothea realized. "How about we start with the music room instead? The piano would make a fabulous clothing rack."

Taylor pouted. "Can we please just look?"

"No, sorry, I'm not falling for that."

The singer ignored her, smiling down at Ivy and bouncing her on her hip as she pointed at the window. "Look, Vee! What do you think of those boots?" She asked sweetly, "Would you want to wear those? When spring comes, and it rains, we can go outside and jump in all the puddles in Central Park..."

"Park?" Ivy repeated, her tiny brow furrowing at the center.

"Yeah, and you know what? I think they might even match the shoes you have on right now," Taylor said, poking the green and red stripes on the toddler's white tennis shoe.

"Bumba bee!" Ivy squealed, her eyes lighting up as she kicked her foot.

"We're going in!" Taylor gave a delighted squeal, adjusting Ivy in her arms and walking past Dorothea towards the door. "Ivy Pearl, you will always be a Gucci girl!"

"Mama Gucci!"

"Congrats. You're officially raising a monster," Dorothea muttered defeatedly, following the pair inside the shop as the bell chimed above the threshold.

"That's funny coming from the person who taught her to slap people in the face." Taylor arched an eyebrow as she began browsing the clothing racks.

Right as Dorothea was tempted to grab the woman by the collar and drag them out of the boutique, Taylor's ringtone filled the air. The singer balanced the toddler on one hip as she pulled out the device, smiling when she swiped her thumb across the screen.

"Hi Nana!" She greeted cheerfully.

"Taylor!" Heather Madison's voice collided with the characteristic FaceTime sound. Behind her was a bright, cobalt sky with wispy cotton clouds. There was small streak of dirt on the side of her forehead.

"Thank goodness you picked up! I'm just finishing up in the garden," Heather continued, dabbing at the side of her forehead with one of her gloves, "I knew I should have just called you first. I don't know why I always think my daughter would actually answer her phone! I mean, I am her mother—but anyway! How did the appointment go? Where are you right now?"

"Just doing a little shopping,"

"No we're not!"

"Is that Thea? Dorothea! Where are you?" Heather was holding the phone far too close to her face. "Why are you ignoring my calls?"

"Because you call me more than a Nigerian Prince telling me I won the lottery!"

"What is she saying?" Heather asked, squinting through her glasses, "Who won the lottery?"

"Nana!" Ivy suddenly chimed in, trying to take the phone out of Taylor's hand.

"Oh my goodness, hi Baby Girl!" Heather cooed. "Oh, wow! Look at that beautiful white coat you have on! And your hair with that pretty red bow! Did Mommy and Mama take you to the doctor today?"

"No."

"No?"

"We did," Taylor chuckled. "Her bloodwork only showed an allergy to peanuts."

"Oh, that's not bad at all!" Heather said, relieved.

"I didn't think so either. But I think Thea's going through an existential crisis." Taylor laughed.

"An exi-what?"

"Oh, so now we're allowed to call it a crisis?" Dorothea called from one of the clothing racks.

"So, what's happening down South?" Taylor asked the older woman.

"Oh, Taylor, this weather—Let me tell you with this heat, my poor garden—Ah! Now I'm remembering what I wanted to ask you. When is your flight supposed to arrive on Tuesday?"

"Early afternoon,"

"Oh good, there's supposed to be this storm coming through, which will be great for the garden, of course, but not so much for flying. But you'll be in before then..." Heather trailed off, then suddenly raised her voice, "And then once the weather clears, I can show you those properties!"

"For a second home," Dorothea clarified.

"Which you'll inevitably decide to make my grand baby's primary home—"

"I'm not having this discussion!"

"So we'll have it in-person!" Heather decided, "Then you won't be able to ignore your own mother—"

"Hey Baby Girl!" Dorothea suddenly appeared at Taylor's side, reaching for the toddler. "What do you say we go across the street for some hot cocoa while Nana continues to talk herself senseless?"

"There she goes, taking my grand baby away from the few precious seconds we get to share, once again," Heather sighed through the phone.

"Say bye-bye to Nana!" Dorothea prompted cheerfully, pulling the toddler's fingers out of her mouth.

"Nana!" Ivy reached for the phone.

"Goodbye my beautiful darling! Nana loves you!"  Heather exclaimed, blowing several kisses.

"Kay bye—" Dorothea spun around, starting towards the door.

"Hey!" Her mother called, "Don't let them put any marshmallows in her cocoa! That's too much sugar!"

"Got it, double the marshmallows and extra whipped cream, kay bye!—" Dorothea's voice evaporated into the bell chime as the door closed behind her.

After a moment, Heather spoke tentatively, "Is she outside?"

"Mhm," Taylor hummed, approaching a shelf with rain boots identical to those from the window display. She then smiled and looked at the older woman. "Something on your mind?"

"Take a guess," the older woman teased.

Taylor grinned, then held up one of the toddler-sized boots. "What do you think?"

"Oh!" Heather gasped, "Those are just darling!"

"Thea doesn't want me to buy them,"

"So you're buying them,"

"I'm most definitely buying them."

Heather chuckled, "So, before my sugar-high granddaughter comes racing back with her stubborn mother, is there anything I can do to help with..."

"Nope," Taylor said, smiling, "I think I've got everything, but thank you."

"Are you sure?" Heather asked.

"Mhm. As long as she doesn't, you know, get suspicious—"

"Oh, honey, she doesn't have a clue," the older woman assured.

"You think?"

"Oh, I know. She's far too wrapped up in me trying to get you all to move down here to even let it cross her mind. Which, by the way, is not entirely an act on my part," Heather admitted.

Taylor chuckled, "You'd be surprised how much she talks about Texas when you're not around. I wouldn't be shocked if she changes her mind."

Heather smiled. Then after a moment, she leaned towards the phone, her voice lowered.

"Taylor, excuse my language, but she is going to lose her shit when she sees that ring."

"I don't know." Taylor shrugged, glancing out the window to see Dorothea and Ivy at the back of the line in the coffee shop across the street. The toddler was pointing at something, and even though it was far away, she knew by the closeness that the brunette was peppering her with kisses.

A smile played at the corners of Taylor's lips. "You think it'll be dramatic?"

Heather laughed sharply. "I think to Dorothea, that's just life."