The One After [SHAWN MENDES]

Epilogue

Ten years later...

"What's that one from, Mama," Autumn asked as she lightly touched the faint scar that ran parallel to my hairline.

"That's from the...what's the word? Ambulism?" Grayson replied before I could. He was eight and liked to prove he was more knowledgeable than his four year old sister.

"Aneurysm," I corrected. "I had some bubbles in my brain that needed fixing."

"Your mama has tiny little clips in her head, kinda like the barrettes you wear in your pretty hair, Autumn," Shawn added. "They keep the bubbles from hurting her."

My youngest's face twisted into an expression of grave concern. "I don't want Mama to ever hurt!"

"You're okay now, right?" Gray queried.

"Yep. I'm great." My annual scans showed no signs of further problems, and I felt fantastic.

Autumn lifted my hair and touched the other scar. "And this one?"

We'd talked about this before, but on lazy Sunday mornings when all of us lounged in bed, she liked to go over each of the reminders of my injuries. Shawn and I asked the pediatrician, and she reassured us that Autumn felt safer understanding why I had scars, since it made them less scary to her.

Grayson spoke up again. "That's from the bad guy who pushed her in a lake, but Dad came to the rescue and saved Mom's life."

I locked eyes with my husband. "Your daddy was a hero."

"He still is!" our son insisted.

Grayson looked like me, but he worshipped his father. My husband could do no wrong, and he wanted to be just like him. He spent hours practicing both guitar and piano, and when we toured with Shawn, he stood on the side of the stage with his ear protection on, watching his dad perform with awe in his eyes. Even if there wasn't a strong resemblance between the two males in our household, at an early age, Grayson mimicked his dad's gestures. When he was anxious, he would run his hands through his hair or rub the back of his neck.

Meanwhile, sweet little Autumn had no interest in musical instruments, though that could change as she got older. She had Shawn's brown eyes and curls and was in the ninety-fifth percentile for height, so his genes came through strongly in her. Our girl adored her daddy, but it was me she clung to. She was shy and quiet in preschool, which my dad said was just like me, yet when she was with either of her two best friends, she came out of her shell. One of those special friends was Alina, Fallon and Briya's daughter.

"You're right. He absolutely still is a hero," I said to my son.

Autumn put both of her little hands on the side of my face. "Why did that man want to do something bad to you? You're so nice!"

"Sometimes people do things they shouldn't," Shawn said. "He got in trouble for it, which is a good thing."

"I'd punch him in his face if I saw him!" Gray made several punching gestures which caused our dog, Frito, to start barking.

"You don't have to worry about seeing him," I said. "He's gone forever."

A few years into his sentence, Liam stupidly picked a fight with someone in prison, and three days later he was found dead in a shower stall. I didn't shed any tears for my attacker, but I wasn't happy about it, either. Shawn said it was karma.

Autumn crawled down my body, lifted my pajama top a few inches, and lowered the waistband of the bottoms until another scar was revealed. "What's this one?"

"C'mon," Grayson rolled his eyes. "You know what that is."

"That's where we came out of you when we were born!" she said with a giggle.

"It's called a caesarean scar and you're right. Some babies need to come out this way while others are born out of their mother's-"

"Gross!" Grayson shouted. "Don't talk about that!"

Shawn stifled a laugh before saying, "How about we go start breakfast, kiddos. What sounds good?"

"Eggs!" Autumn answered.

"Pancakes are better," her older brother argued.

"We can have both," their dad said diplomatically.

Autumn turned back to me. "Will the new baby come out that way?"

I reached down and caressed the growing swell of my belly. "Dr. Abbott said that it's very likely."

I was three months along and we'd shared the news with our children two weeks ago. They were both excited, though they'd been arguing daily about whether it was a girl or a boy. We weren't going to find out until the birth, so they had a long time to wait.

The kids hopped off the bed and ran out of the room, stomping down the wooden stairs with our orange-colored golden retriever right behind them.

Shawn grabbed a cotton shirt to wear with his flannels and gave me a loving smile. "It's gonna be nuts with three kids, an elderly cat, and a big dog."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have insisted that pulling out was a safe form of birth control," I teased. Baby number three was unplanned, but we were thrilled the instant we realized I was pregnant.

"But you looked so damn hot that night, and I was high off my Grammy win. How could I resist celebrating with you?"

"In the back of the limo," I added.

He let out a sigh. "That was quite a night."

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "I'll help cook. I think we have some frozen blueberries left over from when we picked them in the summer. They'll be delicious in the pancakes."

"You feel up to it?"

I suffered from morning sickness with each pregnancy, but it recently began subsiding. "I feel pretty good today. Food will help. I need to get started on a grocery list anyway, so I definitely need to get up."

We were hosting Thanksgiving the next day. I'd already bought most of the necessary items, but there were a few things I wanted to get fresh. Our house would be full to the brim since my dad, Jennifer, Shawn's parents, Aaliyah and her husband, plus the girls and Alina were coming. Ever my grandmother passed away five years ago, my dad's side of the family didn't celebrate as one big group every year, so we were expecting the ones who didn't have other plans. We'd all get together at Christmas at Ollie's, because that tradition never changed.

Our farmhouse was old but big, so we could accommodate a crowd. It was forty-five minutes outside of Toronto and was what we considered home, though obviously when Shawn toured we lived out of suitcases while my dad and Jennifer took the pets. We also occasionally spent a month or more in California when an album was in the works, and we flew to New York frequently for other music-related commitments. Life was pretty hectic, but it was perfect.

As I walked down the stairs ahead of my husband, I heard him chuckle. "What's so funny?" I asked.

"I just realized that you'll be waddling soon."

"Maybe I won't this time."

"Lulu, I think the duck walk is inevitable," he told me.

Our children were sitting at the kitchen counter waiting for us. "I fed Inky," Autumn announced.

"And I gave Frito a scoop of his kibble. He ate it in less than a minute!" Gray added.

We got to work on breakfast, and when we were sitting at the table a half an hour later, I became overwhelmed with gratitude for what I had.

"Why are you crying, Mama?" Autumn asked.

"I was thinking about how lucky I am to have our family and a happy tear snuck out."

Shawn looked at me and mouthed, "I love you."

Hanging on the wall behind him was the framed photo from the night we met. It was pretty wild that what began with a proposition on a cruise had turned into something so strong. We'd had many bumps in the road early on, and there were probably more in store for us, but the one thing I didn't doubt was our love and our ability to overcome anything.