After the Concert

She got a look on her face that I couldn't decipher, but said, "Be my guest," gesturing at her recalcitrant daughter.

I knelt in front of her. "Hanna banana?" I said. I pronounced 'banana' so it rhymed with 'Hanna,' and it came out like a bad English accent, which usually made her giggle. Not this time. I sighed.

"Sweetie, do you know what a promise is?"

She didn't look at me, but she nodded.

"Can you tell me?" I prodded. "I forgot."

"When you say something and you have to do it," she finally answered. I was impressed, that was a pretty good answer from a four-year-old.

"Excellent. That's exactly what it means. Sooo... when Mamma said only a little bit of iPad time, and you said okay, was that a promise?"

She thought about that, then finally nodded. She looked at me, then her mother, and handed her the iPad.

"Thank you, Honey. Now how about you go see if Miss Rachael needs any help?"

"Okay, Mamma," and she scampered off.

Catja turned to me, that look still in her eye. "Eric would have just handed her to me. Or walked away."

That made me inexplicably sad. "I know I've told you before, but I'm so sorry you had to go through that. And I should probably apologize for sticking my nose in; she's your daughter and I know you could have handled that situation. You're an amazing mother."

"Stop trying to butter me up," she smirked drily. "What I'm trying to say is, yes, she's my daughter. But we're in a relationship..." she paused, and I nodded my agreement, "...so there might be situations where Hanna might need a little correcting, and it makes me happy to see you willing to be involved, especially when she's being difficult. I think you dealt with that just perfectly."

"I'm invested," I replied simply, and she hugged me.

Later, after the meal had been eaten, the gift-giving was complete, and Eileen had been put to bed, the adults all gathered in the living room for coffee. Catja and I were seated together on the sofa.

Hanna walked over to stand in front of us. Making up her mind, she crawled into my lap and promptly went to sleep.

The room went a little blurry as I held her, and Catja's fingers were pressed to her lips.

"Well, now you're never getting rid of me," I whispered as I tried to hold it together. It was too late for Catja and Rachael, they were already getting out the tissues.

Holding Hanna like a Fabergé egg, I looked at Catja, and she nodded. Turning to Rachael and Jeff, I said, "Kids? We have ONE more surprise."

We were gonna run out of tissues.

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Back at my place afterward, we put Hanna in the guest room. I'd been slowly making it more kid-friendly, adding little things to make it more comfortable for her. This was the first time she was sleeping at my place, but she was so tuckered out that she hardly stirred the whole way from Rachael's to here. I felt such warmth looking down on her little curly head snuggled into the pillow, her stuffed elephant tucked in beside her. Catja stroked my back, a knowing smile on her face.

But she also had other ideas. All the togetherness and family bonding must have gotten her motor running, because as soon as we tiptoed out of Hanna's room (and it WAS hers now, at least in my mind), her mouth was on mine and her fingers were entwined in my hair.

"Greg..." she whispered huskily, "I am so glad that I got my head out of my ass and called you. I can't imagine now what life would be like - for Hanna and me both - without you in it." She paused to kiss me again. "I'm so in love with you."

Then her voice shifted again, and she sighed, "And now I want to make love to you. Make love to my man. You are my man, aren't you?"

I was lost in the ocean depths of those eyes. "Forever, if you'll have me."

And I let her lead me to my bed.

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Christmas with the Gullicksons was perfect. Catja and her mother were ensconced in the kitchen, while Henry and I hid out in his study. The faint sounds of feminine laughter and clashing utensils, pots, and pans drifted in occasionally. Hanna ran back and forth between the two rooms, relaying information that she felt was important.

"Morfar, Mormar said a bad word when she dropped a pan."

Henry laughed. "Oh, she did, did she? Well, tell her she will have a spanking later."

Wide-eyed, she nodded and ran back to the kitchen. A moment later, we heard more laughter.

A bit later she returned, "Mr. Greg, Mamma said to bring these." And she handed me a plate of what Henry told me were Pepparkakor cookies. Like gingerbread, sort of.

Hanna said very solemnly, "But she said only two or you'll 'poil your supper."

I nodded seriously and thanked her. "Tell Mamma I promise."

Henry kept watching me, and I'm sure he knew something was up, but he let me hem and haw my way around to it.

Finally, wondering why I felt like a nervous teenager, I told him what was on my mind. He gave his permission happily.

Shortly afterward, the girls called us in for dinner. Sara looked at me a little oddly; I must have had an idiot grin on my face. Henry whispered in his wife's ear, and she immediately teared up, but recovered before Catja noticed. She did hug me tightly.

Halfway there.

Somehow, I made it through the meal. Afterward, Henry and Sara said they'd handle the cleanup, and shooed us into the family room. Catja and Hanna sat on the sofa, and rather than joining them, I went over and knelt in front of Hanna.

She looked at me.

"Hanna? I need to ask your Mamma a Berry Important Question, but only if it's okay with you."

I glanced at Catja, and she was staring at me intently. Hanna cocked her little head at me and asked, "What question?"

Grinning at her, I said, "Well, I don't want her to hear it yet! Can I whisper in your ear?"

She nodded, so I came closer.

Stage whispering, I asked, "What do you think if your Mamma and I were to get married?"

Her little eyebrows scrunched together.

"Me too?" she finally asked.

I nodded, "Of course, you too."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Do you want to ask her together?" I continued.

She nodded vigorously.

"Okay let's say it together," I said it slowly, so Hanna could repeat it along with me. "Will you marry us?"

We both looked at Catja, who had tears streaming down her face but also a beatific smile. "Yes, my darlings, I will marry you."

I slipped the sapphire and diamond ring on Catja's finger. Then I put a sapphire and white gold pendant around Hanna's neck. Both stones matched their wearer's eyes.

Catja ran to her parents. After her mother had oohed and aahed over the ring, and they had cried and embraced, she looked at me and I smiled back at her.

"Mamma? Pappa?" she began. "We have one more gift."

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The next time we visited, Rachael screamed when she saw the ring, and the girls clutched at each other. Jeff shook my hand and pulled out his good Scotch for a toast. I knew I liked that young man.

After they settled down a bit, Rachael picked up Hanna, and with the softest smile, told her, "You know this means we'll be sisters now!"

Hanna's eyes went wide, and she put her little arms around Rachael's neck.

She must have seen me wiping at something in my eye, because she turned in Rachael's arms, held her arms out to me, and said, "Don't cry, Pappa!"

Well damn. Turns out I'm an ugly crier.

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Somehow, Catja, Ashley, Sara, and Rachael managed to pull the wedding together in four months. At one point, Rachael took me aside and asked what my thoughts were on inviting her mother. That was a tough question. I'd forgiven her, and I didn't want to feel like she was being shut out - yet at the same time, I didn't want her to feel that I was flaunting my good fortune in her face. Despite what she did.

After discussing it with my soon-to-be bride, I suggested that Rachael talk it over with Monique, and whatever they decided was good with us. She wound up sending a lovely gift, but stayed away.

Hanna was the prettiest flower girl ever. Catja's baby bump was pretty noticeable, but when she appeared at the end of the aisle on her father's arm, my heart nearly burst. She was so beautiful.

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Three months later, I was going crazy but in the best way, as our son entered the world. Catja had no issues, for which we were thankful. She had turned 36, and we would be lying if we said we weren't just a little worried.

We adjusted, and we had lots and lots of help. Rachael had been my one and only for so long, and now we had my stepdaughter Hanna who was now almost five, my newborn son Hendrik, whom we decided to call Hank, and my granddaughter Leelee, age 18 months.

When he was learning to talk, Hank had trouble with 'Eileen,' and called her 'Leelee.' It stuck. Anyway, Leelee had grown attached to Hanna from the first, and when she met Hank, she was smitten all over again and was a constant, welcome visitor. Technically, Eileen was Hanna and Hank's niece, but when she was old enough to understand, she said there was no way she was calling them 'Aunt' and 'Uncle.' It was a running joke for the rest of their lives.

We got a lot of looks when we were out with all three kids, them being that close in age, two of them calling us Mamma and Pappa, and one calling us Granddad and Mamma Cat. Catja said that at her age she refused to be called Grandma. Occasionally, Leelee called me 'Dad' by mistake (or for fun), and Jeff would just laugh. He never minded. It got even more confusing when Rachael was with us too and she was calling me Dad. The perplexed expressions we got... but the first time she smiled sweetly and called Catja 'Mother'... Catja narrowed her eyes, and Rachael started giggling, and pretty soon they both were laughing, hanging onto each other.

So, from nearly the time Hank was hatched, it was rare that the children weren't together, be it at our house, at Rachael and Jeff's house, or with Mormar and Morfar. They even stayed with Monique.

Speaking of my ex... she never really did move on. She dated, and Rachael said that she seemed to have a casual, comfortable relationship with a slightly older gentleman. But she never brought him around us or the children and always seemed to be available to babysit one, two, or all three of our assorted youngsters, to the point where all of them called her Grandma Monnie.

Sometimes I caught her looking at me with a wistful expression, and I did occasionally wonder what might have been. But when I looked into the startling blue eyes of my wife, I knew where my future lay.

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An ending, but perhaps not THE end?