Second (History Plays, Book 1)

Epilogue: 20 years later...

The bold skyline of New York City seems to lean against the soft blue sky. It's already a bright sunny June day. I inhale the familiar fumes from far too many cars, and the cacophony of city noises fills my ears. It's just an average day for dozens of commuters, and I doubt if I'll ever tire of standing watching the many different lives all spilling out before me. Not a single person looks or even seems to regard my life as it plays out in yet another, breezy, happy summer day of endless routine and lazy brilliance. Soft in it's infamy of boring happenings, of taking the subway of finding a small coffee shop that's out of the way where they pretend to recognize you. Of standing on the roof and waiting for a few stars to rival city lights. Of simply existing again and again and again and being glad of each and every moment.
"Please carry me?"
"Your feet can't be tired already, Joanie?" I ask, scooping my daughter into my arms easily all the same. She pushes her soft blonde hair out of her face and blinks as though in protest of the sun. I grin at her contemplation.
"I see better up here," she informs me, little baby face wrinkled in a frown.
"Oh, that makes sense then, of course your highness," I say, swinging her onto my shoulders with practiced ease.
"Better," she says, putting her hands in my hair, probably sticky still somebody without actual disciplinary skills (I don't know why I say it like that, it was me) let her have ice cream already today. Well, she's four. And when she says things like 'could i have ice cream now' history has proven I can't actually say no.
"Caught you," I feel a hand on my shoulders and laugh as I am kissed more than is necessary for the middle of the New York in the middle of the day.
"Daddy, you're being silly," Joanie reprimands.
"We said we were letting her walk for at least an hour, I park the car and you're already carrying her highness places? Hmm," he asks, kissing my  mouth again. I put a hand on his scarred face as I slide my lips along his. Soft in it's familiarity, fierce in the fight to remain in his arms I could just stand here like this forever. Every time. I laugh.
"We're supposed to be seeing the parade," Joan informs us, smacking us both in the face with the flag we regrettably gave her.
"Yeah we are, I just had to keep a promise to your other dad first," he says, grinning at her, "Come on then, if your feet are really already tired then I'll carry you."
"Can we get ice cream if I walk?"
"You can have ice cream even if you don't walk," I say, and he shoves me, eyes flashing with nothing like annoyance. He leans over and kisses my cheek.
"What's that for?" I ask, rubbing the back of his neck though, before slipping my hand into his.
"Nothing," he says, kissing my hand, "I just get to kiss you wherever I want."
"Always."