Epilogue: Part 3 (Final)

Riley, Halloween

The producer points a finger to the extremely famous but rather ordinary-looking radio host sitting around the bend of a bizarrely amoeboid-shaped table, and the radio host begins his practiced, velvety preamble.

"Good morning to all the good folks out there who love good music. This is Billy Baxter—"

"—and Reece Timms—"

"And we're the Billy Baxter Radio Show, comin' at you live, as always, from Nashville's Music Row."

I take a sip of water and prepare myself to jump into Billy's rhythm, as I know my cue will be coming soon.

"It's Halloween, and we've got a real treat for you this morning. We've got Riley Emsworth—I'm sure you all know he's one-half of the legendary duo R&R—here to debut for the first time anywhere, R&R's new single—Spooked—aptly themed for the spookiest day of the year—but we'll get to the song in a little bit. First I want to welcome Riley to the show. Riley, good to have you man, it's been a while!"

I've done this enough now to pull the microphone to me instead of leaning into it as is the natural tendency of a performer like me who is accustomed to a mic stand. "Thank you, Billy—and Reece—I can't believe it's been almost two years since Row and I were in the studio with you."

Reece twitters slightly off mic and Bobby says, "And yet you still reduce Reece to a giggling schoolgirl with the accent, man."

"I can put on my boots and cowboy hat and talk like this," I give my best imitation of Adam Heartley, slowing my words and exaggerating my vowels. "If it makes you more comfortable, Reece."

"No, please! I get plenty of the sexy Southern drawl," she laughs. "I'm just like so many of R&R's fans—a little bit in love with your accent. It's especially adorable, the way you say "darling" to Row onstage, when you guys are talking to one another between songs. Will you do that one for us?"

"Well, I can't, love. She's not here, is she?" I laugh.

It amuses me, the "darling" thing. I tried to change the darl-ing to darl-in', and it didn't go over at all. It didn't do it for Row, and it didn't work onstage, either.

Reading Row's preference, and her being the one that mattered, I deep-sixed the contrived modification a long time ago. Now, women always ask me to call them darling, the way I do Row. Reece is a little more sophisticated in her ask, but she's not getting it. Love, hen, madame—I'll use all those to charm our fans, but none of them get darling, ever. Not even fangirls disguised as famous radio personalities.

"Fair enough," Reece smiles at me.

"So Riley, obviously, the first thing we want to talk about is the big changes in your house. You guys announced about three weeks ago that you're no longer a duo, but more of a quartet, now."

"That's right, but our new members haven't quite learned to harmonize yet. They're a bit screechy, actually," I grin. God, I love this man. Billy is a real pro; he sets me up perfectly to make charming quips. He winks at me and nods.

"If you're been hiding under a rock and don't know what we're talking about, don't panic folks. R&R is still the same gorgeous duet we've all come to know and love, but I'm referring to the fact that they've welcomed twins—their first children. Congratulations, man!"

"Thank you." I feel a rush of warmth at their mention, followed by slight anxiety because I'm not with them.

This is the first time I've left Row and the babies since they were born six weeks ago. Row has risen to motherhood like she's claimed every other role she's ever wanted—with confidence, decisiveness, and gorgeous competency—but she's outnumbered by two helpless infants, and despite the fact that her mother and Bridge and Street are in a weekly rotation of residence at our home to help out, I feel a bit like I've abandoned them to do this promo in Nashville.

"So how is fatherhood, Riley?"

"Well, with twins? It's a bit like being thrown into the deep end—with two drowning victims you must save."

I pause for their laughter, then continue. "In all seriousness, it's indescribable, the way becoming a parent changes you. I would honestly die for them. That's something people always say romantically, and of course, I feel that I would give my life for Row as well, but when you hold your children for the very first time, and they are so utterly helpless and dependent on you for their very survival, something primal and tender and very powerful just bursts inside you." I catch myself, realizing I'm being a bit too deep and quickly cast about for a way to lighten the conversation. "But I guess all fathers feel that way. It sure has allowed me to finally relate to my own father-in-law's tendency to be overprotective," I grin.

Billy gives me a thumbs up for the famous stepfather opening I've just given him. "And what a father-in-law you have to deal with. I'm sure most everyone knows that Row's dad is Matt del Marco, frontman of the legendary Skid Marcs. He's pretty notorious for kicking tail and taking names, on-stage and in all aspects of his life. So is he driving you and Row crazy with parenting advice?"

He has been. Of course, he has been. But Row reminds me constantly that it's just his personality, and it comes from a place of love. "No, Matt has been quite helpful, actually. And Row's mother as well. In fact, this is a tidbit that no one actually knows, yet..."

"Oooh, inside gossip," Reece adds.

"Right. So the story is...Row's dad accidentally named the twins before they were born."

Baxter laughs. "How does one accidentally name babies, Riley?"

"Well Row and I had a bit of a joke going. We'd call the unborn babies after the names of famous duet partners. All sorts of things. Sonny & Cher, Johnny & June, Tim & Faith, like that, you see?"

"That's funny," Reece says.

"And the whole family got into it. Matt came up with one. Ozzy and Lita. And his nicknames stuck. We couldn't imagine calling them anything else once they were born."

"Ah, that's great!" Billy gives me a silent clap for the awesome Grandpa-Matt-del-Marc-naming-our-kids-after-his-friends anecdote. "He was referencing Ozzy Osbourne and Lita Ford's duet from the heyday of hairbands...I think it was called Close My Eyes Forever..."

"Exactly."

"That's an oldie-but-goodie, I haven't heard that song in a million years..." Reece is rolling her fingers at their producer to cue up that song to be played later in the show. "So, Riley, are you telling us that you actually named your son Ozzy after Ozzy Osbourne?"

"Well, we named him Osbourne. Just in case he decides to live a more respectable life than his musical family. We figured he might prefer Bourne one day, but yeah, we call him Ozzy."

"So what do Ozzy and Lita think about their namesakes?"

I blink. It hadn't occurred to me to wonder. "Not sure, actually. You'd have to them. Or Matt, maybe. Perhaps he's shared his grandchildren's names with them, I don't really know how often he speaks with his old friends these days."

"We'll try to do that at some point..." Baxter cues the producer again, but then Baxter looks at me and cues me to put on the headphones in front of me. I give Leander a quizzical look in the booth. I thought this was just a brief fifteen-minute promo. I had no idea the plan was to take callers. Not that I mind terribly, but I'm anxious to get back on the jet as soon as it can be turned around on the runway. Leander nods, repeats Baxter's gesture for me to put on the headphones, and gives me thumbs up to indicate I'm doing great.

Begrudgingly, I put on the headphones. I know they vet the callers, but fan engagement on the radio can sometimes go unpredictably sideways. Sometimes they ask about the old days, stuff that is long buried in our life but remains as clickbait on the Internet.

"But let's switch tracks for a second, here. We love you Riley, but it just feels like our interview isn't complete without your other half."

"My better half, you mean."

"He's so adorable," Reece says. "Row, is Riley's romantic side an act or he's like this at home?"

I relax as Row's dulcet actress voice floods the headphones. "Reece, not to brag, but I am the luckiest woman in the world. The Riley the world sees is the Riley I get. He might be even sweeter in our private life."

I smile at my hands as Reece gives an exasperated sigh. "I knew it. Does he have a brother, Row?"

"No, but I do, and he's single," Row jokes. "Almost as sweet as Riley. Actually, he's here today, helping me out, since Riley is there with you. I'm out on our deck, and I can see him inside. He's got Ozzy in the swing, and he's giving Lita a bottle."

"So it sounds like everything is going alright there?" I ask her.

"Oh, yeah. We're just hanging out, waiting for you to get home to go trick-or-treating."

I laugh. "Oh, we're doing that tonight, are we? Aren't Ozzy and Lita a bit young for candy? They are only six weeks old." They were born a few weeks early, as twins often are.

"Exactly. We get to steal it from them, and they won't even know," she pops back.

Baxter and Reece laugh, and I say, "There she is, my spectacular heathen. Never does anything decent, when she can do it devilishly."

"Ah but that's not true, is it? Your love story is quite the opposite, isn't it?"

"You've got me, Billy. Row likes to play the bad girl—and truthfully she was a bit of a brat in the old days when I managed her first band, Strut— but beneath that tough-rocker-girl-exterior always beat the heart of an angel. She has saved me from myself so many times, I can't even begin to tell you."

"We save each other," Row adds.

"That we do, my darling." Reece gives me a thumbs up.

Reece makes a sound of approval into the mic. Bobby is holding his right ear—probably getting a private update from the producer—while holding a finger up to Reece, claiming the airspace. "Well, now that we've surprised Riley with Row calling in, we'll surprise them both with another call-in guest we were extremely lucky to get in contact with on such short notice. Riley and Row, we have the incredible Sharon Osbourne on the line. Sharon—did you hear that Riley and Row named their twins after Ozzy and his old duet partner Lita?"

"Yes I did, Billy. Matt texted everyone from the old days the minute they were born with pictures and names. Riley and Row—congratulations, your children are just adorable, and Ozzy was so flattered. It gave him such joy. He wandered around the house muttering, "Ozzy and Lita," and chuckling to himself all day. He even rang up Lita, and that was lovely— we haven't seen her in years. He, and Lita as well, I'm sure, thank you for the honor. You'll have to bring the children by to see us."

"Of course, next time we're in LA," Row says. I wonder if she's ever been to the Osbourne's house. I haven't ever met them, but perhaps she did as a child.

There are a couple more exchanges with Sharon before she rings off, and now Billy is directing the interview to discuss the new single, Spooked. Row responds.

"Well, usually we're fairly fifty-fifty in the songwriting effort, but this one was a different kind of split than we usually organically fall into. I was stuck on bedrest for the last two weeks of my pregnancy because I was in preterm labor and the doctors wanted to delay delivering to give the babies' lungs a few more days to develop—"

"Right, of course. So songwriting was your solution to stir-crazy?" Billy interjects, sensing a new mother about to go down the rabbit hole of her birth story.

"Exactly. I was stuck in bed and with a melody stuck in my head. Riley went out to run a couple of quick errands and when he returned, I had gotten down the musical skeleton on an app on my Ipad. But I had no lyrics. Riley was having the opposite phenomenon going on. He had some ideas—some stuff bottled up that he needed to get out—and the lyrics just poured out of him."

"So Riley, tell us what this song—Spooked—is about."

"Well, it's basically about fighting one's fears. Standing on the edge of fatherhood was especially scary for me because I didn't really have a father growing up and I think I definitely suffered for the lack of one. I want to be the best father I can be, but it's terrifying—unchartered territory so to speak. So this song is about wanting something terribly, but also being...sort of...reluctant to fully embrace your desire because fear is muddying the waters."

"That's very interesting, Riley because I've listened to the song and though I can certainly see what you say now that you've explained it, I feel like it can be interpreted in more than one way. It also plays like a love song—about fear of loving someone too much."

"Well, yes. All our songs are love songs, in one way or another. That fear of being vulnerable and fear of failure are two facets of this song. There have been times in the past in our relationship that we've both been spooked. Afraid of being vulnerable, and nearly losing each other in the process of trying to control those fears."

"I know you've alluded to your first marriage, divorce, and reconciliation in the past, but always as a statement of fact. You don't usually talk about it on an emotional level. Would you say it's fair to describe you as very guarded about your personal life, Riley?"

"That's fair, but it's the way it should be, I believe."

"Yet this song is a new level of emotional vulnerability, and you are the one that crafted all the lyrics.  So can you speak more specifically to the relationship fears you are talking about?" Reece asks.

Here we go. I glance at Leander and give him a rueful smile. It's been a decade that Row and I have been reconciled, but it always comes down to this. For years and years, I've used snippets of our "love legend" to satisfy a soundbyte and redirect to the music.

But the birth of my children has layed me wide open. I have so much love for Row in my heart these days, I decide it's time I gave the full love legend, and let everyone know how this woman resuscitated our love and birthed us a new life.

"Well, it's pretty public knowledge that early on in our first marriage, Row and I became seriously estranged, due to a series of difficult, personal struggles and obstacles. Row had been through a lot. The injury to Row's hand was not as straightforward of an accident as the press was told at the time. She'd been caught in the middle of an altercation that had nothing to do with her. She got stabbed in the hand as a result. We were married two months after that, and I don't think we dealt with the trauma of her assault on an emotional level together.

"She coped by deciding to switch gears from playing music to acting. I coped by busting my butt to make that happen for her. Making that happen meant us living bi-continentally, me in LA managing Soundcrush at the time, her starring in GirlBand which was filmed in New Zealand.

"The first three years of our marriage, we spent more time apart than together. Our life together was more like a honeymoon every few months instead of a marriage. There was a lot of love, but there was a lot of distance between us in every way. Physically. Emotionally. In practical lifestyle matters. In age, too—I'm nine years older than her, which was a little more significant when she was in her early twenties and I was nearly thirty. So it's not surprising that things came between us."

"What kind of things?" Baxter asks ruthlessly. He's a friend, but since I'm handing out the goods, he's going to see if he can snatch the whole lot.

"All things of my making," Row says. "Riley is being super generous in his account. It's true that my hand injury really messed me up, but I handled it badly. I was immature. Switching careers wasn't the only way I coped. I partied way too much. I abused my health. I used everyone in my New Zealand life to help me conceal that from Riley. I didn't turn to him, I turned away from him and to people that didn't have my best interests at heart. I didn't guard my marriage like I should have."

"Rowan, I've never heard either you or Riley be so open about your first marriage. Since you are being so candid, do you want to respond to the inferences that your former Girl Band co-star Aidan Mosteller made a while back, claiming that you two had a sexual relationship at some undetermined point in time?"

I push the mic away just in time to avoid a noise of frustration going live. Aidan has gone on to have a massively successful Hollywood career. He's had blockbusters, won Oscars, been Sexiest Man alive as many times as Leed. Because his fame began with Girl Band, he and Row seem to be perpetually linked. She was his first co-star, and her career has been as enduring as his, whereas many of his other costars are somewhat less well-known. Aidan has never settled down in his personal life, so Hollywood is much more inclined to link Aidan's narrative with Row's, more so than any other of his personal or professional leading ladies.

We hardly ever run into him, but there have been two or three times over the last decade that various showrunners have engineered to have Row and Aidan at the same place at the same time. There are pictures out there of them together on red carpets, taken as recently as two years ago. Row's body language is always extremely uncomfortable. Once she didn't have to work with him every day, she completely lost her tolerance for even his briefest touch.

But he obviously still carries some kind of twisted torch for Rowan that he doesn't do anything to hide. One that got away, all that. That's his narrative when it comes to her. She certainly is an amazing woman, and I suppose I can't blame him for recognizing that. But I can blame him for his assholish predation of her—when he decided to try to steal her away from me, when he assaulted her in that London club, and still all these many years later, the way he stokes the embers of rumors that should have died long ago by speaking about her publicly.

A couple of years ago, when his Oscar nomination happened to coincide with our Oscar performance, she had one of those uncomfortable, forced exchanges with him at an after-party. He was interviewed by Maxim a few weeks later and asked about the photographs that weren't much more than a paparazzi-level ambush. He said the most disrespectful and incendiary thing he's ever said about her.

She's happy with her guy, and he doesn't like me. She and I haven't been friends in a while. But here's the thing about Row del Marco. She's like a sexual whippet. All that sweet, creamy outside and all that charge inside you know will get you high as hell, if you can just call out the best part of her. But her high doesn't last. She'll evaporate right in the middle of the best experience of your life. That's what makes you want her high again and again.  She's elusive.

He must have been high when he said that shit. I wanted to kill him, but in lieu of that, I tried to convince Row to file assault charges against him. The statute of limitations had not expired from that time in London where he threw her against a bathroom stall, and we had all the depositions I collected at the time. Row didn't want to re-ignite the old drama, but she decided to fire a warning shot at him. She released a statement saying Aidan's continual public references to her in such a way was a form of sexual harassment that she had endured for many years. She called on him to stop. His publicist released a public apology, but the did-they-or-didn't-they is never going to go away, especially not after he basically confirmed that he slept with her, and we refuse to comment.

We'll be confronted with the question for the rest of public lives. I know that now, I've accepted it. And we'll do what we've always done. Weather it, redirect. What else can we do?

The question was directed at Row, and I hear her take a deep breath. Before she even does it, I can hear the bravery catching fire in her lungs, and I realize that Row has decided there is something else she can do.

Oh darling, don't. All these years, I've protected you. I forgave long ago. There's no need to fall on your sword for us.

But she does it anyway because she's so brave.

"Actually, you know what? I do want to respond. I'm tired of Aidan controlling the narrative with his stealth attacks on me in the press every couple of years. I did betray my first marriage to Riley with Aidan Mosteller. It would be hard to describe what happened between Aidan and me as an affair. It wasn't an ongoing romantic relationship. I didn't love him. But during the third season of Girl Band, Riley and I were having serious problems. Looking back now from a place of a lot more maturity, I realize that I consoled myself with Aidan's attention. My husband whom I loved was unhappy with me. My co-star was always pleased to see me, and he always initiated coaxed a flirtation from me. As those things often do when you put a lot of drinks and drugs in the mix, the flirtation culminated in one night in which I was unfaithful. I regretted it, I told Riley about it immediately, and we tried to move past it, but as you can imagine, that was not easy to do while we were still living on separate continents and all the underlying issues between us still existed."

"Wow. Just to confirm, you've never publically said that before, have you? That you had an extramarital, sexual relationship with Aidan Mostellar."

"No. Aidan has alluded to it many times, but I've never confirmed it. But you know what, Billy? I'm thirty-five years old. I'm tired of the focus of my life being a rumor of a mistake I made when I was twenty-two. It just seems really unproductive to lose traction of every interview we do by coming back around to the rumors. Anyway, I like you Billy, and I know you always treat your guests with respect and compassion, and this is a live show so I know what I say can't be edited. Your show seemed like a safe space to finally lay the rumors to rest once and for all. Now, I don't ever have to address this again. I can just say, look I already told Billy Baxter about this. You can find it in his catalog. But I would like to say one more very important thing if I have time."

"Of course, go ahead," Reece says. She's sitting on the edge of her seat. I can't blame her. It might seem like cold tea to Rowan and me, but it's hot to everyone else.

I take a deep breath, wondering what my spectacular heathen is planning next.

"I would like to apologize to my husband for all of the public discomfort he's had to endure these many years as a result of the terrible mistake I made. I have always regretted being unfaithful, and I've worked extremely hard to repair the broken trust I caused, and I love him more and more every single day, and I try to actively show him that love at all times now. He's an amazing person. His capacity to forgive me is just a part of what makes him the strongest, kindest, most generous man I've ever known. Sadly, one of the worst aspects of what I did is that Riley has always publicly protected me from the shame of it, and that has allowed others to continually exploit the salaciousness of the rumor. Now, it's not a rumor. It's a statement of fact. A sad old story. I cheated one time thirteen years ago, I am and always have been extremely sorry for it, I've tried to actively learn how to be a more loving and loyal wife from the experience, and I have been very blessed to be forgiven by my husband. End of story."

I snort. I can't help it. She's brilliant, my wife. She just gave Billy Baxter the biggest live scoop of his career, making him our friend for life. But she also just admitted that she cheated on me thirteen years ago. I check around the edge of my feelings. Am I angry? Embarrassed? Ashamed?

No. I only feel empathy for her guilt, which I know she still feels.

Bloody hell. I really did forgive her after all.

Both Billy and Reece are looking at me. Finally, after an awkward pause, Billy says, "Riley, did you and Row plan to settle the truth once and for all today? or was this more of a surprise to you?"

"Well, Row is always a surprise to me."

An awkward pause. Then Row says, "Sorry to spring that on you, Riley. I just couldn't take it anymore. You're always so calm about it, and it's so unfair."

"It's alright. But you didn't have to do that, darling. Not for me."

"Yeah, I did. It's time that people understand how judgment against me hurts you. You forgave me, and that's all I care about, but you're the one that has to endure the questions and constantly protect me. Now, anyone that asks you about it again is just a jerk, because it's old news. But maybe you guys can talk about the new song now? Because I'm done talking about that."

"Of course, Row. That was really powerful and I appreciate your honesty and your courage." Billy says. He's actually scrambling because of course he wants to ask me follow-up questions but he'll look like the jerk Row was anticipating if he does.

"She's something else, my wife," I murmur giving him a satisfied grin.

"Yep," is all he says. "So the song..." he holds out a hand to me. "I don't even know how to bridge the two topics, Riley. You're going to have to help me out and take this where you want it to."

"Well, the only place to go is where we went from there, right? To the rest of the story."

"Oh yes, that makes sense," Reece adds.

"Well, we tried to work it out but I was having a really hard time with forgiveness. In the end, I felt as though I was hurting Row more than anyone should have to take, being so angry all the time. We divorced. Here's another tidbit very few people have ever put together—the car accident I had a few years back was actually on the day our divorce was finalized. Row is not the only one that has made huge errors in judgment. I nearly killed myself driving drunk and I thank God everyday that I didn't hurt anyone else.

"So yeah, there's a line in the new song, where I sing—you chase me to the edge of death, your love the scent of my last breath—that's true. I nearly died in that car accident. In fact, the paramedics said my heart had stopped just a matter of seconds before they were able to pull me out to resuscitate me—and I can tell you with absolute certainty—despite all the pain we'd put each other through, despite the fact that our divorce was supposed to be final on that very day—when I thought I was dying, Rowan and loving her was the very last thing on my mind.

"When I got a second chance at life and realized how grieved she was by my accident, all I wanted to do was make sure I never hurt her again, But I was still conflicted and very fearful, since all our baggage still existed, and my injuries and recovery were a bit painful on top of that. I had a serious spinal cord injury. I was in a wheelchair for a number of months, with no idea how much mobility I might regain, and no matter how much I tried to send Row away, she stuck right there with me. Even though we were newly divorced, she moved back home, took care of me with a level of compassion and tenderness I've never received from anyone else, in my entire life.

"It was a scary time for both of us. There was a lot of hurt from our estrangement, and a lot of fear about what the future might look like, but that car accident made it very clear to both of us that neither one was done with the other. And it didn't take long for my recovery to move forward or for us to commit to reconciliation, but we had a lot to wade through, because of the past, but also because we'd also discovered this completely new facet to our relationship—this musical partnership. All the songs we've written have been the path back from the lowest point in our relationship. They've been our healing and we've savored the bittersweet journey. We took our time to heal, and we walked a bit slower back down the altar than the first time. Obviously, considering I'll never be able to feel my feet again."

Everyone chuckles at my self-deprecating allusion to my deficits.

"So the upshot here is that even though I believe a power beyond the grave and two very skilled paramedics brought me back to life, Row is the one that helped me reframe it into a life worth living. What could I do but struggle back onto my feet, with a woman like her dragging me into her spotlight?"

"Oh Riley," Row breathes in my ear.

"Don't cry, you're on the air, darling," I remind her.

"Sorry. New mom hormones," she says to Billy and Reece.

"No worries," Billy tells her. "My wife was the same. Wow, Riley, that's such a good insight into how your relationship informs your songwriting process."

"In particular the new song, Spooked. See, all that old stuff from the time of my accident and our reconciliation was recalled to me a few weeks ago, as Row became the one stuck in a hospital on bedrest. Our future was a little uncertain all over again as she fought to keep our babies safe and healthy for a few more weeks. Of course, it all turned out fine, but it was a bit dodgy for a couple days. I was quite anxious for her and the babies. I felt powerless in a way I hadn't been, since my own accident a decade ago. All of my old and future fears mixed in a perfect storm of emotion, that I was able to release them in this song."

"And it turned out great. I'm sure I speak for all your fans when I say we are extremely appreciative of your candor, but even more than that, we're glad you found your way back to one another because the love you've woven into your music is incredibly inspiring to us all. Thank you, Riley and Row."

"Thank you, Billy," Row says.

"Thanks very much for debuting our song, Mate."

"And now folks, you're hearing it here for the first time ever. R&R's brand new release, Spooked. You can stream it across all platforms immediately following this broadcast."

We're off the air. Billy and Reece take over their headphones, but I'm still on with Row.

"Well, Mrs. Ems, motherhood seems to have made you savage," I say softly.

"Are you upset with me?" she asks.

"No. I've been asking myself that very question these last few minutes and the honest answer is no."

"I'm so glad. But you don't mind being..."

"A cuckhold? Bloody hell, who've we been kidding, Row? Everyone knew it anyway. You did right, telling your side of the story, although I would never have asked you to."

"I know."

After a short pause, I say, "There is a bright side, you know. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as bad press, and the Spooked downloads are going to go through the roof now."

"Mmmm. You're so sexy when you're mercenary."

"I'll show you sexy, when I get home," I growl. Row hasn't been up to much more than general affection and cuddling since she was six months pregnant, but in the last week, she's begun to rapidly recover her libido. Last night she gave me greenlight for intercourse. Unfortunately, Ozzy and Lita had other plans than sharing their mother's attention. Tonight we've got an action plan—a sleep-over in Street's wing of the house, where a night nurse and supplemental formula will be his allies.

"I can't wait. I was thinking maybe we could use our Halloween costumes to get things started."

"We have Halloween costumes?"

This is brand new information. I was thinking our Halloween was going to be very lowkey to the point of non-acknowledgment. But now that she's said that, it seems right to celebrate our children's very first holiday.

"Oh yeah. You're probably going to be much more upset at how much they cost than the bombshell I just dropped on Baxter."

"Is yours something sexy?" I ask.

"Hmmm, well it's not a golden bikini or anything, considering I just gave birth sex weeks ago. But you'll probably think so."

"Then I assure you I don't care what it cost."

Our song is almost over and Billy and Reece need to reclaim their studio. "Darling, I've got to wrap this up. The show must go on..."

"Right."

"I'll be in the air in thirty minutes. Home in about two hours."

"Okay. Riley, I love you. We love you." She sounds a bit anxious, probably about the air travel. Despite what I said, motherhood has made her anything but savage. Emotionally, she's more vulnerable than she's ever been.

"I love you, and Ozzy and Lita. I'll be with you before you can get all three of you into your Halloween costumes."

Which is probably true considering she spends half her time feeding Ozzy and Lita.

"Okay."

###

Row

I've just finished feeding both babies, changing them, wiggling them into their adorable Halloween costumes, and putting them in bouncy seats on the kitchen island when Riley calls, "Darling, I'm home!" from the mudroom.

"You've been dying to say that all day, haven't you?" I call back, as I make a funny face at Ozzy in the hopes that he will stop fussing and smile at his daddy.

"Since it's the first time I've left the house in six weeks..." he says dryly as he comes around the corner.

"You? You've been lots of places. To the gas station. To the barber, to the pharmacy--" I scoff, then stop. "Oh, I love those!" I exclaim.

He's lugging a very large pumpkin in one arm, but in the other, he's holding out the biggest bouquet of black roses I've seen.

I admire their deep velvet sheen. "I really do love them, thank you."

Riley isn't looking at the roses. He's looking me up and down, and his lips part slightly at the same time his blue eyes darken. "I knew you would. Happy Halloween to my very sexy seawitch."

I'm Ursula from the Little Mermaid, in a gorgeous custom-made dress with a leather bodice and a full purple skirt of mixed texture ruffles. I had a makeup artist come, and she powdered my hair so well that it looks like the gray locks I had when I first met Riley, except piled artistically. My makeup is dramatic and makes me look either very evil and or very fun. I love my costume, and I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time. Especially with Riley staring at me like that.

"Happy Halloween to you, King Triton," I grin, handing him the trident I had hidden in the pantry. "Your costume is amazing. Custom made. Not very much like the Little Mermaid version at all. No tail. Lots of leather and armor. Well, not lots. There's not much to your costume."

He groans, "Oh bloody hell, Row. What you really mean is that my costume is shirtless, don't you?"

I put my hands on his chest. "But you're so sexy without a shirt on. I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

"Hmmm. Well, there's a thought," he says in his bedroom voice. But then he's focusing his attention on the babies.

"And what about you two?" He says, examining his children. Lita is Ariel and Ozzy is Sebastion. "Well, aren't you precious, demi-darling?" He smiles at his daughter and tugs at her cute little fin. Then looks at his son, who has made a sound of unhappiness. "What's the matter, Ozzy? You don't like being a crustacean? I grant you, it's not a very manly costume, but you're just a very little man, and Mummy thinks you look cute like this...tell you what: I won't cry about my costume if you won't cry about yours...you're quite a bit of work for Mummy, you know, and it's important to make her happy in the small things..."

Ozzy has calmed at the sound of Riley's voice and stares mesmerized at his father's face. "Ah. There we are. That's much better, Sport."

He melts my heart with them. I've always thought he was adorable, but the way he talks to our babies? Makes me scared my ovaries might go popping off like crazy and make more babies immediately. Where is that damn diaphragm? I hope it's in my bathroom drawer...

He turns to me and whatever he sees on my face makes him say gruffly, "Come here."

He kisses me. I melt into his minty warm mouth, but before he can even give me flutters, Street strolls into the kitchen and Riley breaks the kiss with a tiny sound of displeasure. But very tiny.

"Hey, man," Street says and grabs a microbrew and a juice box from the fridge. Which is sort of funny considering he's wearing a robe and a big giant man bun.

"Greetings, Samurai," Riley says dryly.

Street bows. "Mulan is getting impatient. I'm trying to put her off with this," he punches the straw through the juice box, "but I can't be responsible for any damage to your home from her katana if you don't break off tongue wrestling with my sister and hustle your ass into your costume so she can trick or treat."

Riley gives Street a crooked grin. "Don't rush me. Feudal knight of the Empire you may be, but I'm King of the Sea, Mate."

Street pulls his prop sword and holds it sideways in front of Riley. "My sword is yours." Then he mic-drops the thing, and it clatters to the floor as he sucks on his beer.

Riley picks up the prop and brings it swiftly to Street's  throat. "Get out of here so I can give my wife a proper hello kiss."

Street sticks the sword on his back like he's been practicing. "You were only gone like six hours."

"And it's the first I-missed-you-kiss I've been able to give her in a very long time, so I plan to do it properly." He turns back to me, pulling me to him, placing his hands on my hips. "I was terribly anxious for you and the babies the entire time I was gone," he confesses.

"We were fine. I missed you, too. Like achingly, ridiculously missed you, considering you were only gone six hours."

Riley kisses me again, gently, then more aggressively. I sigh at the way his stubble feels, scraping my lips. And the way his hands feel, moving lower, finding a gentle grip on my ass somewhere amid the ruffles.

"You guys are almost as bad as Mom and Dad," Street says without any real feeling, but he leaves the kitchen with the beverages.

I sigh, breaking the kiss, watching his retreating back.

I feel awful for rubbing our happiness in his face. He's terribly lonely. He could get a girl anytime he wanted, but he never even tries. He feels like most women he meets only want him for his money and celebrity-adjacent status, and he can't waste his time in that game, because what's the point? He can't bring any of them around Rory, for fear a girlfriend will try to play mother to her just to suck up to him and Rory will get hurt.

Part of me thinks Street has spent his life in the wrong scenes if all the women he's ever met give him those vibes. That's why I keep inviting him here, in the hopes that he will meet a regular, decent girl, far from the trendy LA and Italian sophisticates he's used to.

But a part of me suspects there is more to his reluctance to date than just the struggle to meet someone genuine. Honestly, I think he misses Rory's mother. Which shows how messed up Street really is, because how can he feel much for her when he only spent a couple of days with her and then she left him in a world of never-ending shit. For years. And that was all before he even found out about Rory. I mean, maybe it was a love at first sight thing, but after all this time, and everything she did—not telling him about Rory and then just dumping her on him on top of all the crazy shit—I don't see how he could have any feelings for her except bad ones.

Sometimes I wish the bitch weren't dead, just so I could kill her.

"Hey," Riley says and I return my gaze to his. "Don't open up Pandora's Box tonight by lecturing him about getting a life. He has exactly the life he wants right now."

"Does he, though?"

"He must, because four-year-old-daughter or no, he can bloody well have any life he chooses. He's chosen to dedicate himself to his daughter, and rightfully so, after the trauma of losing her mother. He wants her to grow up in the arms of a loving family. He's making that happen, by sticking close to all of your family. Children are resilient. Rory is adjusting. She's almost forgotten all about...before. Eventually Street will relax. He'll be ready to live, work, date again. The rest will work itself out. Besides, we've already had our murky walk down memory lane for the day. No need to add Street's difficult detour to the path. Not considering it's Ozzy and Lita's very first holiday, and Rory is excited, too, I'm sure. Let's make it a fun evening. Don't you want a fun evening my little demi-darling?" he says to Lita as she starts to make little sounds of discontent.

He picks Lita up out of her bouncy seat. "Come along then. You can help me decide about this costume I'm supposed to wear, while Mummy and Ozzie choose a theme for Street to draw on the pumpkin. We'll carve it after we trick or treat, yes? Well, I shall carve it. You'll probably need your dinner and evening nap, but when you wake, you and Ozzie can play a bit, and spend some time enjoying the candle we put in the pumpkin—I'm sure Uncle Street will design us a very cool Jack-O-Lantern. And perhaps while you're watching the candlelight, Mummy and I will enjoy a nice apple cider and tell you a ghost story. Mmmm...scratch that, I really don't care for ghost stories. Perhaps we'll tell you the story of the Great Pumpkin."

He looks back at me. "Do you know that one, Row? We didn't subscribe to Charlie Brown holiday specials as a religion, in my household."

"There was no Charlie Brown in England?"

"It's not as popular there. The videos were available, but I never had them as a child." He says it without any bitterness, but I know that Riley's household wasn't what anyone would call child-centric, not even when he was very young. His mother had to work, and had no one to leave him with other than neighbors, who weren't always willing, especially when Riley was big enough to fend for himself.

Which is why my husband is so incredibly self-sufficient and capable and strong, but also why every part of my being yearns to make our family fun for him. He deserves to see the beauty of childhood through the eyes of our children since he missed out on his own.

"Yes, I'm sure I can turn it into a bedtime story. Your ideas for the evening sound like a great first Halloween for Ozzy and Lita. But I do want to take a quick ride up to the Mystic Mountain community. I need to get out of the house, and we've promised Rory  could go trick or treating, and it's supposed to be the best Halloween festival in the area."

"Oh, that's what you're planning!" His eyes go wide. "Row, I'm not sure Halloween is simply a kids' party there."

"It's not only for kids," I correct him. "Grace and Susan say the festival is open to the public and it's very family-friendly. All the freaky stuff we don't want to know about happens on that hunting preserve that your biggest red-headed fangirl owns with her great big gorgeous husband. But the Mystic Mountain celebration sounds very festive and it's the closest place we can go. Now please go put on your costume quickly so we go for a little while and be back before their next feeding," I admonish him, taking Lita back from him and pushing him toward the bedroom. It will take him twice as long to get ready if he's fussing over her the whole time.

Riley looks super hot in his costume. It's not some cheezy cartoon version. He has metal shoulder plates, gauntlets, and a crown to match his triton. The best parts are the dyed leather pants and matching boots—in an amazing turquoise with a darker blue scale pattern. I don't know how they did it but it must have been incredibly tedious because it cost me a fortune.

He was fairly unhappy without the shirt—I don't know why, he's lean but he has nice pecs and a slight six-pack, but I cave and give him the dark blue leather vest that I had made to go with it, just in case.

Mystic Mountain is a lot of fun. It's a very small community. A hundred-year-old downtown area is less than three blocks long, but they have a hardware store, a small market, a bank, a salon, two or three local restaurants, a couple bars. The rest of the shops are called apothecary shops and they are clearly run by the local witches. Honestly? They aren't all that different than some of the new-age places we see all the time in trendy California towns.

All the shops are participating in the trick-or-treating. They all have conventional store-bought candies, but the restaurants and the witch shops are giving out homemade candies and baked goods to anyone who wants to try them.

Faraday and Finn are standing in front of one of the bars, passing out beers from an enormous iced tub. They bicker over which ones we should try. I never realized that Finn is actually the silent partner in Faraday's brewery. Apparently, they both dabble in the beer making, and they force Street and Riley into a tasting test. Riley is forced to use all his diplomacy to extricate himself and my brother from Faraday and Finn's pissing contest.

We run into Leander; he knows everyone here. Riley trusts Leander immensely and seeing Leander so at home here finally puts Riley at ease. He introduces us to his mother Janet, who runs one of the apothecary shops. She takes one look at me and Ozzy and Lita in the stroller, pronounces that Ozzy is on the razor's edge of developing colic, and tells me that she has a tea for mother's milk that will help. I've been worried about Ozzie's increased fussiness for days, although his pediatrician tells me there's "nothing to be done" if a baby develops colic but "experiment with your diet and wait it out." Well, drinking an all-natural tea seems like a very small experiment so I buy some from her. She's also got amazingly gorgeously decorated petit-fours that she's offering the trick-or-treaters. Street is still a little reluctant to let Rory try one.

"They are just normal bad-for-you candy?" He asks Leander. "Sugar and flour and chocolate and butter and stuff? Not anything...herbal in them?"

"Dude, if you want herbal, you have to go see Sean's mom and her husband. She makes cannabis and other kinds of useful butters, and he has the homebrews with weird stuff in them. But I was raised on these, and there's nothing in them but way too many calories," Leander laughs, scarfing two as his mom fusses at him, telling him she spent a long time decorating the ones for customers, and he should get the "plain ones in the back for family and friends." However, she offers Riley a fancy one. He pronounces delicious and persuades Street to try one. He caves. Rory chooses a purple and orange petit-four with a darling 3-D sugar-cat on top.

The street slopes dramatically downward where the little downtown deadends into a public park. Not really a park, I guess. I've never seen any public park where a big bonfire was allowed, except maybe a beach. Many families with children are seated on the grass on blankets. It reminds of Shakespeare in the park.

Around the bonfire, I see the red-head dancing around it with a fiddle. She seems to be leading a group of adult women like some kind of sexy lesbian pied-piper. Sean's wife is dancing around the fire, and so is Finn's wife, Lana. Despite the distance, she looks up and seems to see me. She waves but doesn't stop her dance. This causes Carrie to notice us watching them, and she gives Riley a very wicked smile and a wink but keeps on fiddling.

"Want to go say hello?" I snark at Riley.

I see him swallow heavily—a very attractive mannerism on him, but this time, it's more of a nervous swallow than a lusty one. "That's an interesting costume," he says.

I'm still looking at the red-head. She's wearing a medieval green garment, but the bottom is cut into tatters to allow for her wild dancing. I poke him. "Her dress is not as pretty as mine." I say, trying to call his attention to my leather bodice—and my boobs pushed up in it.

He doesn't look at me. "Not her, Rowan. Look." He raises a finger.

The direction of his finger causes me to gaze directly into the fire, but through the lapping flames, I see the redhead's husband. He's clothed in forest green and brown robes, sitting on what once was a tree trunk, but it's been rotted out—or maybe carved out. The backside of what remains is higher and shards of the trunk jut up behind the large black man's head like a throne.

It's not the throne that has attracted Riley's attention, nor his rich robes. On the man's head are large, shining ebony horns, curving gracefully like a longhorn steer's. Not to mention, he's wearing vividly glowing green contacts.

"I wonder who did his costume? That's Hollywood good. Do you have a connection you're not telling us about, Leander? I could have used some help with our costumes," I tease him. I give Leander a side-eye. He gives me a direct look and says, "Hearne needs no help with his costume. He does it all on his own."

"And who is he supposed to be?" Street asks.

"He is Cernunnos, God of the Dark Forest, Lord of the Hunt, Sovereign of the Earth's Fertility, and Master of Witches," Leander says calmly. Then he shrugs and says, "Well, at least Celtic witches."

I turn back with interest to the dance going on around the bonfire. Carrie has left off playing her fiddle, but someone else I can't see must have taken it up because the song is still playing. Weird. I didn't hear a break in the playing at all. Through the flames, I see her stop in front of Cernunnos. She kneels in front of him, places her head in his lap. She looks sorrowful. He rises and embraces her, shielding nearly all of her as he wraps his frame around her. Then he pushes her firmly away. Lana and Dru leave the other women dancing around the fire. They come to her side, each clasping her arm as if holding her back from her husband.

Another man steps up beside Hearne, who kneels before the man. The man wields a large hunting knife—nearly a machete.

"Who is that man? What are they doing?" Riley says quickly.

"Don't worry. That man is my father. He works for Hearne. He is playing the role of the village leader. This is simply a reenactment. A pagan passion play, sort of. In the old days, it was believed that Cernunnos would allow his human followers to sacrifice him in their fields after the last harvest on Samhain—Halloween-in order to ensure the fertility of next year's crops. Then his Goddess Cerridwen would collect his corpse and resurrect him with her love and care. The cycle would repeat year after year."

Leander's father draws the blade across Hearne's throat and a flash of green explodes like fireworks. Somehow it jumps to the bonfire. All the women glow green in its light.

"Good special effects," Street notes.

"Hearne and Carrie like drama," Leander says. "They work very hard on the authenticity of these rituals."

Hearne is on his hands and knees now, slumped forward, his horns touching the ground. The redhead playing Cerridwen breaks her hold from the witches. Sean's wife offers her a small dagger. Finn's wife holds a large pewter chalice. The woman pretends to slit her own wrist, but the special effect of her blood pouring into the chalice looks very authentic. Riley and I give each other an uncomfortable side-eye. Street picks up his daughter, but she isn't watching the play in the distance. She's watching all the other costumed children wandering around us.

The goddess takes the cup from Lana and kneels beside the man with horns. She pulls his head up rather violently by one horn. He looks pretty bad off, his skin paler than it was, and dark green veins standing out on his face.

"How the hell did he do that?" I ask.

"Shhh," Leander says sharply, even though dozens of people are milling around us, not even watching the play. His attention is riveted on the scene, however. I guess he takes this pagan stuff more seriously than he ever let on to us.

The redhead is forcing the chalice of wine—it looks like wine—down her husband's throat. Eventually, he begins to swallow and revives somewhat, reaching for her, grasping her shoulders. She tosses away the cup and looks at him tenderly. They kiss. More green pyrotechnics explode, and when the smoke clears, they are standing, hands clasped.

The man's horns have disappeared along with his glowing eyes. He looks just like the time we saw him at the festival. However, the redhead's hair has somehow turned white, and it doesn't look like a wig.

"How are they changing their makeup so fast?" I ask. There's no curtain, no backdrop of any kind. No special effects people visible in any way.

"Magic," Leander winks.

I roll my eyes. "So it looks to me like, what this play is teaching is...the Goddess is more powerful than the God. He must die so humans can live, but she has the power to resurrect him." I grin at Riley. "Take note. A woman's faith restores a man's life."

He grins at me and looks down at our babies. "Yours certainly restored mine."

Leander sniffs. "Yes, but this is only one spoke in the wheel of pagan belief. Well, if we're going to be technical, two of the eight pagan holidays are covered in this play. The time from Halloween to Winter Solstice. The lore would teach us that Cernunnos' resurrection takes that long. But Dru convinced Hearne and Carrie that the play was too sad for the kids if Cernunnos simply dies at the end, so they tacked the resurrection of the winter solstice on to the end. In traditional myths, by Winter Solstice, Cerridwen has spent all her love and her power to bring Cernunnos back to life, and she herself has withered. She's a crone.  He must restore her youth and power in the Spring. And so the wheel turns."

"And how does he restore her?" Riley grins.

"Well, he fixes up their shelter so that she has a warm comfortable place to rest, and he hunts to feed her. And when she is strong enough, he gives her half his power. On an altar. At Beltane. I'm sure you can figure out how he transfers it," Leander smiles. "But we don't let the kids watch that part."

"So it takes the God's love and protection to grow his Goddess's power to its fullest," Riley surmises.

"Yeah, paganism is very romantic, in theory," Leander says. "But in reality, it sometimes manifests as a tribe of old-fashioned macho men who drink too much and howl at the moon while a coven of witches manipulates them by playing to their baser instincts. Or more likely, by not playing with their...baser parts."

We all laugh. "That's why you live in Asheville, I take it? You don't like being manipulated?"

"Exactly. I think modern life is a little more straightforward. I have to catch up to you guys later. As I said, my dad is pretty tight with Hearne. I have to pay my respects now."

In fact, there is a line queuing up in front of Hearne and Carrie. Sean and Dru and Finn and Lana are first, but the play is over and we've been here too long, considering I have about a two-and-half-hour window between Ozzy and Lita's feedings.

We arrive home, Riley is very hypocritical. He shirks his costume immediately in favor of soft worn jeans and a t-shirt, but he is very disappointed to see me remove my dress.

"I can't feed them in a leather bodice," I say in irritation as I hurry to put on a robe while Lita wails to be fed and Ozzy starts to ramp up as well.

"Will you put it back on later?" he asks, ignoring their wails and tugging at the ties of my robe, pulling me toward him. He gently cups a full, sore breast and I jerk away in irritation.

"Only if you will freakin' help me feed them right now! They're starving!"

He looks affronted at my tone. "Of course I'm going to. You needn't ask."

"I know. I'm sorry. " I say, trying to calm down. The babies' cries still unnerve me a little. They are only six weeks old. My mom promises that crying won't kill them, and the reality of life is that it's impossible to keep two infants completely comforted at all times. But it's difficult to hear one wailing while I'm trying to feed the other. I can feed them both at the same time, but it's much easier if someone helps me with pillows and positioning.

Riley, used to the tantrums of rock stars, is much more stoic in the face of their discomfort. He talks to Lita calmly as I position Ozzy, and then hands me our wailing daughter and helps me get her settled.

I relax in the nursery chair, thankful that their wails are silenced.

Riley sits on a stool in front of me. He reaches forward and fingers my powdered gray hair. "You look gorgeous, and that was a lot of fun, but you've had quite a day, haven't you? Getting all this together, just so we could have an hour and a half out."

"Worth it. I can't only be a milk machine." I gesture to our two feeding babies.

"You are so much more than that. But for right now..."

"You think I should just be a milk machine," I say.

"No," he pulls my feet gently into his lap. "I just hate to see you stressed by trying to do too much at once."

"It will get better," I say, closing my eyes. "No one said twins were easy."

"Nothing we've ever done has been easy," he says.

Despite how tired I feel, it's not even seven pm. The babies will have one more feeding before we go to bed, so we try to keep them up between their "dinner" and their "bed-time snack" in the hopes that we can get them sleeping something like a normal night. Right now, they are still waking up at two or three in the morning, but we have a night nurse that helps. Tonight she'll be helping Street. I haven't forgotten the romance in the air from last night that we didn't get to act on.

Riley makes good on his word, carving the pumpkin on the back deck, letting Rory help him pull the guts out. Street and I bring the babies out there, bundled against the chill. We sit in the swing and bumble our way through some bastardized version of the Great Pumpkin, while Rory listens and punches holes in our weak plot with a million questions. We laugh at how bad we are at remembering something we always used to watch as kids.

"We've done too many drugs between now and then," I murmur against my brother's shoulder as Riley, now finished with the pumpkin, takes the mess inside to the trash and washes his hands.

"And look at us now. We were once the cool del Marco's," he snorts. "I was killin' it in Florence, and you were the star of your own TV show. Now Trace is almost the legend that Dad is, and Bridge is completely posh, she'll probably land a prince if things don't work out with Dev. Lane turned into LA's biggest badboy, and Alley walks the runway at Fashion week..."

"I wasn't happy back then, Street. I was miserable. Did you really love Florence?"

"For a little while, yeah."

"Until the trouble started?" I ask.

"I knew there was trouble long before it started," Street says. "I knew there was trouble the weekend Emma walked in and out of my life. I'd never met anyone like her, and then she was gone and no other girl seemed as...real."

"She wasn't real," I tell him. "She played you, Street."

"She didn't," he insists. "I don't care what she said afterward. She was scared. Hell, she had every right to be scared. I was scared, too."

"She abandoned her daughter," I say, watching Riley help Rory wash her hands.

"She died, Row—"

"She abandoned her first."

"No one can say for sure she wouldn't have come back," he says firmly. "She was only gone three months before she died. That's not a long time. She might have come back."

It takes everything in me to tell him there is nothing in this world that could compel me to abandon my children the way Emma walked away from Rory. She pushed her toddler daughter through the doors of a foreign police station leaving her with no identification, and she walked away. The child wandered the station briefly before bursting into tears when she realized she was alone. She had nothing with her but the note pinned to her dress, claiming that she was the daughter of Street del Marco.

The police found that very interesting since Street del Marco was currently being held over for trial in that very police precinct. He was quite shocked to hear about the little girl and denied having a daughter, but the minute he saw her, he amended his statement to say that he didn't have a daughter he knew about, and his lawyer appealed for a paternity test on the abandoned child.

Rory was in child protective services for weeks, until her paternity was established, and it was weeks more before the paperwork could be approved for my parents to take her, weeks after that before Street's trial was declared a mistrial, and he was able to actually meet his daughter for the first time.

"I don't understand how you can be so forgiving," I sigh.

"I probably wouldn't be, if she were still alive," he admits. "But I've fallen in love with my daughter, and her mother is dead. And the way she died—the way they found her body? No one should die like that, Row. No one."

He picks up my hand—the one that was stabbed and traces the scar where I was stabbed. I wince, remembering the terror I felt when Daemon forced my hand on the wall and drove a knife through it. For just a second, it was more frightening than painful. Then he pulled it out.

Okay, he's right. No one should die like Emma did. But no one should do the things she did before she died, either.

"One day," Street continues, "Rory is going to ask me about her, so I try to hold onto the forty-eight hours I actually knew her and not focus so much on the rest of it that I don't understand."

"You're a better man than I am," I huff.

"I've always been a better man than you," he grins.

"A better woman, too." I sneer.

He rolls his eyes as he rises and exchanges daughters with Riley. He helps Rory light the candle in the pumpkin, and a bunch of other candles, then takes her off to watch Charlie Brown before bedtime, promising he's going to move the twin's bassinets upstairs to the room beside his and help the night nurse with them so we can have a night off.

"I guess you're not such a loser after all," I tell him.

"But you're still a witch-with-a-b," he pops back. "I only help because of Riley."

"Thanks for overlooking your sister, Mate," Riley grins.

When Street is out of sight, that's when I begin to cry. "It's not fair. He's so good, and life just keeps shitting all over him."

Riley puts one arm around me, and we rock the babies as I cry. They are both wide awake and making cute sounds, staring around at the shadows from the candlelight, so I don't cry for very long—more like a shower than a rainstorm.

When I laugh at the way Ozzy is trying to get his finger in his mouth but keeps missing, Riley pulls a handful of pumpkin seeds from his pocket. "These are the seeds from the pumpkin. I was thinking..." he gestures down the mountainside, "there's a small pasture that's on our land back there. I could have some stairs and fencing built down to it, and we could turn it into a pumpkin patch. Leander says they grow almost effortlessly in this part of the mountains."

"You want to be a farmer now?" I laugh.

"Hmm, it's more like, I want to build traditions. I never had any family traditions, Rowan. I know your family has quite a few, but I thought we could build our own, too. Since the del Marco's seem to have Christmas covered, I thought we could establish an Emsworth Halloween tradition of growing our pumpkins, reusing the seeds each season, so that all our pumpkins would beget from the children's very first Jack-o-Lantern. When they're a bit bigger, we could get the kids involved in the planting, harvesting, carving."

"Are we going to take them down to the pumpkin patch to honor the Great Pumpkin each Halloween?" I ask.

"Sure. After we come back from the annual Mystic Mountain festival. We can have a midnight party in the pumpkin patch each year. Maybe some Halloween fireworks in orange and purple."

"Or when they get to be teenagers, we could have a seance."

"No—," he says quickly. "No seances. That will scare them."

"Scare you, you mean," I snort.

"That too."

"You really do believe in ghosts, don't you?" I say. It's not something I realized early on in our relationship, but for some years now, he's been easily spooked by the topic of spirits.

"I believe  we should leave the dead at peace," he says firmly.

I lean my head on his shoulder. I try to feel magnanimously toward Rory's mother and hope she found peace. I squeeze Riley's hand, so grateful that he is very much alive and the center of my whole world, even though both of us did our best to wreck what we had together before we could truly build it.

"I love you, Riley. I love you so much. Sometimes I can't believe how long we've been together, how far we've come, and everything we've built."

"I know, darling. I love you, more than I can ever show you." He looks down at our children. "And the life we've built? It's begun anew. We're not just R&R anymore. We're a family."

Through the glass doors, I see the night nurse has arrived. I rise and pull him to his feet. "I know, and I love every second of it, but I think it's time we take a break from Ozzy and Lita, and remember where we started."

"In the shower, you mean?" His grin is wicked.

I'm not sure I'm up to shower sex. That's a lot of bouncing, and my boobs ache all the time. I was hoping we could go a little slower."Wow, you have a lot of plans. Sex in the naughty dress. Sex in the shower."

"I have no plans unless they involve your full enthusiasm." He reaches for Ozzy from my arms. "I'll go help Street and Leigh put these to bed. Why don't you just relax for a few minutes? I was only joking about the dress, darling. And the shower. We can just lie in bed and enjoy the dark and quiet in each other's arms, knowing we can get a full night's sleep."

That sounds great, but a little like my moods, I find my hormones are in fact, raging tonight. I'm happy to put the dress back on. I stare in the mirror at my gray hair and edgy outfit and remember the girl I used to be when I first met Riley.

She was spoiled, and she was reckless, but there was good in her, too. I know there was because she looked around her wild, wild world and she was attracted to the best thing in it—Riley. And she latched on to him, and though she was still spoiled and reckless, she wouldn't let go because he was so good, and she wanted to be good, too. And somewhere along the way, he helped her turn into me. Now, I'm going to spend the rest of my life, giving that man the one thing I have always had in abundance, but the one thing he has always lacked.

A family to love and live and die for.

He opens the door to the bedroom and groans with lust. "Bloody hell, you do look amazing like that." He turns me toward him, runs his hands over the caps of my shoulders. Fingers a tendril of the gray hair again. "I love your natural raven hair and your elegant style, but goth still looks as good on you as it ever did, darling."

"And you've only improved with age," I say, and I mean it. Riley is forty-four, but he's the kind of man that will be young forever, like my dad.

As if he's read my mind, he dances me over toward the bed and says, "You know, I am almost middle-aged. If you do want a big family, we should plan to try for the next one or two when you've fully recovered and Ozzy and Lita are sleeping well. Perhaps by their first birthday?"

I laugh. "My dad was fifty when Alley was born. And I am much much younger than my mother when she got pregnant with Alley. We still have time. Let's just practice tonight."

He picks me up by the waist and tosses me on the bed, my purple skirt flouncing everywhere. He climbs on top, amid all my leather and lace, and kisses my cleavage tenderly, right above my heart. "I thought you'd never ask."

I search his eyes. "Make love to me like the first time. Not the shower. I mean the first time after your accident. That beach in Hawaii."

"You mean the first time there was perfect trust between us," he says, and my chest floods with an ache that he understands my feelings so well.

"Exactly. It took us so long to get there, but it was worth it. It's not just that I love you, Riley. I trust you with everything I am. The good and the bad."

"I saw that today. You could only have done what you did on the radio if you actually did trust my love. And you were right to trust it, because the past doesn't bother me at all, anymore. I don't care who knows what, or what's said now. My love is stronger than any mistake either of us could ever make. I belong completely and irrevocably to you and this family, Rowan."

He is gentle and slow, and soon he has coaxed me out of my dress and into the passion only he has ever drawn from me. And despite the changes becoming a mother has wrought in my body and my emotions, I am free with him. I am just me and all of me. He loves the girl for her spirit, and the woman for the song in her heart, and the mother of his children for the tenderness she rarely shows outside his embrace.

He worships me like a goddess with his love. And I love him like the god that rules not my world but my heart. And I always will.

A/N: That's really it, folks. I am so sad. I think this is my favorite of all the Soundcrush and del Marco books. I love R&R so much.  We'll back up a bit for Dev & Bridge but end up to this point in time by the middle of their book, so don't despair, we'll see more of Row, Riley and their family!