Okay - I thought I was finished, but decided to do a short epilogue because Jane deserves as much happiness as I can give him.
He felt a finger tickle his side and realized someone was touching his scar. He opened one eye and caught the culprit red-handed.
"Hey, whatcha doing?"
"Was zat Daddy?"
He smiled and placed his hands in the warm sand and pushed himself up. He lifted his frowning son onto his lap, wanting to laugh at the intense expression on the little boy's face – an expression that made him look just like his mother. Instead of laughing, however, he simply kissed the sun and sand touched little cheek.
"It's a scar," he said simply.
"A car?" his little munchkin said, struggling over the word. "An owie?"
"Yup – an owie."
"Poow Daddy. What you do?"
"Hmm – well, you see, I disobeyed Mommy and went somewhere I wasn't supposed to go and got hurt."
"Oh no!" Samuel cried. "D'as not good Daddy," he shook his head at his father. "Mommy gibbed you a time out?"
At that Jane did laugh, and kissed his son again. "Yup – I definitely got a time out. So you see, it's not good to disobey Mommy - or Daddy." He flipped his son onto his back and began to tickle him gently.
Samuel laughed and squirmed. "-top Daddy, top!"
Just then Jane heard another squeal and looked up in time to see his little girl barreling towards him on wobbly, toddler legs.
"Da!" she cried, throwing herself at him. He caught her before she planted herself face-first into the sand.
"Hey you!" he cried, holding her tightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Ma!" she cried with a smile. Jane laughed at the expression of delight on her face, her four little teeth glinting in the afternoon sunlight.
"Bethany wanted to get in on the fun with her father and brother," Teresa sat, plunking herself down on the towel beside her family. "She was tired of building a sand castle."
Jane looked over at the mound of sand to his right – the mound that bore no actual resemblance to anything approaching a castle – and grinned. "I can see why. A lot of work building a castle."
"And knocking it down, and burying her hands in it and generally covering herself and me with sand," his wife complained, but with a twinkle in her eye. "What were the two of you doing?"
"Daddy gotsa car," Samuel announced.
"A car?"
"He means a scar," Jane told her, gesturing down to his bullet wound. "I told him I got it by disobeying you."
"That's right," Teresa nodded. "Daddy was naughty."
That made Samuel giggle and bounce, loving the idea of his Daddy being naughty. "He gotsa time out!" he announced.
Teresa laughed and looked at Jane. "He told you that, did he? Well it's true – he got a long time out. But you know what Samuel? He also learned his lesson and now he listens to Mommy."
"He does?" Jane asked softly, his brows raised.
"He'd better!" his wife answered, equally as softly.
Bethany giggled merrily and wriggled out of her father's arms. She then began to fling sand around, which made her mother quickly grab her and lift her up.
"No you don't missy," Teresa announced. "No throwing sand."
"Bet' is naughty!" announced a virtuous sounding Samuel. "She gotsa time out too?"
"You do like it when others get time outs, don't you my son," his father said. "But I think it's time we all had a time out – at the hotel. I think it's nap time."
"No," Samuel frowned ferociously and stood up. "No nap! Ay's not tiwed."
Jane stood up slowly, brushing sand off his legs and swimsuit. "We'll come back to the beach but right now Bethany is tired. She's little and needs a nap."
Samuel nodded vigorously. "Bet's 'ittle, ays big!"
Jane grinned. "Okay big boy, you can help by picking up your beach toys." He began to gather some of their things as well. "Can you take Bethany?" he said to his wife.
Once everything had been sorted out, the family made it's way slowly up the beach towards their hotel. They were in California for ten days, visiting the beach and then various friends.
It didn't take long before Samuel began dragging his feet, so Jane shifted the beach bag and picked the little boy up. By the time they all reached their hotel, both children were sound asleep.
"I wish it was this easy to get them to sleep at home," Teresa said softly.
"Sun, sea and sand," Patrick said softly. "Tires out little bodies."
"And big ones," Teresa answered. "I feel like a nap too."
They put both children down for the afternoon – Bethany in a crib, Samuel in a bed with safety rails. The two adults watched them for a moment, and then with matching grins made their way into their bedroom.
"This has been fun," Teresa said. "I wish we lived closer to the ocean."
"Do you wish we were back in California?" Patrick asked as he began to strip off his bathing suit.
"Mmm – not really. Austin is home now, and I'd miss our house and pond. I do miss some of the people though. It'll be nice to see Wayne and Grace."
After both taking a quick shower the two of them decided to lie down and take a short nap. Patrick took a hold of Teresa and spooned up behind her, his arm circling her waist and his head resting on her shoulder.
"Mmm – you smell of sun," he told her. "Yummy."
She laughed and reached down and took the hand that was gently pressed against her stomach. "The children are having a great time."
"Children always love the beach," he said softly. "I used to take Charlotte all the time."
She squeezed his hand and was silent for a moment. He still didn't talk about his first family that much, but he had begun to share small memories of them with her. He spoke more about Charlotte than Angela, probably concerned that it would bother her if he spoke about his first wife. She had assured him it didn't, but he still had said very little about her. Sometimes Teresa found herself getting curious, but then decided it was best to leave things the way they were.
"I remember you told me you taught her to swim," she commented after a few seconds.
"Mmm hmm," he smiled gently, remembering. "She liked the backstroke – I was just teaching her the breaststroke when -" he stopped, refusing to go there. "That was one nice thing about Malibu – easy beach access."
"We have our pond," she lifted his hand and softly kissed it.
"We do. And ducks," he pointed out. "And Samuel loves the ducks."
"Yes – and he terrorizes them," his long-suffering mother pointed out. "And now Bethany wants to chase them too."
"You're glaring at me, aren't you," he said into her hair.
"No," she defended herself instantly.
"Yes you are," he murmured into her neck. "You blame me for duck chasing. Which is totally unfair, I must say. You're the one who gets freaked out by wild animals. I know how to be quiet and calm."
"I don't get freaked out," she exclaimed. "You just have to be – careful around them."
"Yes, in case the deer or ducks attack! For a brave woman, Teresa, you're a coward in the wild."
"I'm a city girl," she told him. "Although I'm learning."
"Yes, you are." He continued to breathe in the scent of his wife as he held her close. He found himself growing drowsy and allowed himself to think back on their day at the beach – and then on his life.
He remembered back to the time he'd been shot – to all the turmoil he'd suffered over whether he could or should love again. Then he thought about how he'd returned to America after being away for two years and how he'd almost lost Teresa because of his doubt and self-hatred.
It had been close, but he'd gathered his courage together and had told her how he felt. And now – he glanced at his almost asleep wife and pulled her even closer – now he had her and two beautiful children.
There were times he still didn't feel he deserved her or the life he now led – but he'd started to come to terms with all that had happened. He had made the decision, the day he had married Teresa, that he could no longer allow himself to dwell on the past, except the good things, and had to deal with his guilt and self-hatred.
He had known that to be a good husband and a good father he had to be strong, be loving and look forward in life, not back. He would never forget all that had happened, but he would no longer let it control his life.
Now Teresa and Samuel and Bethany – they were his life, not the tragedy he'd suffered.
At that moment he felt a sense of peace that he'd never felt before and a – presence that seemed to gently touch him and fill him with the wonder of the love that was now his.
Maybe there was a god, he thought in the last moments of awareness. Because he certainly felt blessed.