Challen and Addy

Epilogue (Challen): For Eternity

Copyright © 2025 by GroveltoHEA

Many years later...

The sun was just beginning to rise and the sky was gradually lightening from black to gray to slightly pink. I sat on our porch, watching all of this as I sipped my coffee. Addy was inside the cottage sleeping, and I'd wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible, so I'd stealthily grabbed the bassinette and carried it outside and put it next to my chair.

Lake was out cold, and I smiled as our little three-month-old girl slept, her little face relaxed.

"The name Lake means calm, serene and creative. So let's just manifest that and put it out there that she'll at least be a calm and serene baby," Addy had teased, rubbing her baby bump.

Addy had failed magnificently at manifesting. 

Lake had colic, so we'd been taking turns dealing with our unhappy little girl, trying warm baths, rocking her, going on car rides, offering her pacifiers, giving her massages, burping her more often as she ate, swaddling her and playing white noise. I'd finally suggested disappearing for a month to the lake cottage. Addy had looked dubious that this would help, but we'd headed out.

We'd settled on a piece of property at Lake Renovar where Addy had told me she loved me. It'd taken eight months to design a cottage with two bedrooms on each side of the house and a family room/kitchen/dining area in the middle. Addy's favorite part was the freestanding stone fireplace in the middle of the room that separated the family room from the dining area. You could see the fire from both sides, and since we came up to the cottage year round, we got a lot of use out of the fireplace.

In the years prior to having Lake, a lot of living had been happening. Addy and I, knowing how tenuous life could be, had decided to embrace each day, so we traveled to some beautiful places in the States and all over the world, having new experiences and just enjoying seeing new sights with one another. As a result, we never had to buy art to decorate our homes; we just used the breathtaking photos Addy took on our adventures.

Addy had gone back to school to learn more about photography (I realized taking pictures brings me joy, Challen), so she'd pursued that, and then that had snowballed into a business she and Carys had begun together.

Grady had been offered the position with my company, and he and Carys and Rosabel had soon moved to a neighborhood about ten minutes from ours, and we soon became close friends.

They often came to Peace cottage with us for a weekend. Even before the cottage was finished, Addy had commissioned a white sign to hang between two white posts to the right of the brick path leading up to the front of the cottage. Welcome to Peace it said.

"This place is our peace, and I don't care if it sounds kind of woo-woo," she'd said, and I'd agreed because it was true. Everyone said how peaceful it was at the cottage.

So, with sixteen-month-old Rosabel asleep in Grady's arms, we were all talking quietly while Carys crocheted a baby blanket.

"Have you ever thought about selling those?" Addy asked. "You make all sorts of beautiful baby items."

"You think anyone would buy them?"

"I do," Addy said firmly, "and I've been thinking a lot about something else."

Then she told  Carys how she kept seeing an empty storefront on Main Street, and it had been vacant and for sale for a long time. It'd started my wife thinking about affordable, unique art.

"We could buy the store and rent out booths in the store to various local artists. I'm not talking about really high-end artists most people can't afford; I'm talking about affordable art -- maybe women and men who have a hobby and want to make some money from it. People who make clothes and don't have a place to sell their designs. People who make those beautiful wooden bowls. Jewelry makers, photographers like me, artists who paint, artists who knit and crochet like you. Leather workers. Pottery makers. The possibilities are endless."