Chapter Text
Epilogue -- February 2037
“What, again?” Miles asked, brow creasing. ”What are you two? Guppies.”
Bass winced but Charlie grinned. ”This is the last one.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Miles commented but he jerked as Rachel slapped him lightly in the back of the head.
“For someone who doesn’t want details,” her mother’s voice was dry, “you certainly ask a lot of questions.” Rachel gestured for a porter to take the small mountain of luggage piled by the door. Charlie sometimes wondered that she had once lived out of a single backpack for months when a week-long visit now required nearly half the wagon bed.
“I just wonder if they’re starting a commune out there. Or maybe their own army.”
“Not hardly,” Bass commented and Charlie glanced around the restaurant, making sure none of their three children were getting behind the bar. The whole room was bathed in February sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows on the south side, a door leading out to a walled courtyard where more tables were set. It was empty this early. Their oldest, eight year old Justin, was already in a booth, sketching on a sheet of paper. There were three sticks of charcoal and a box of pastel crayons that he certainly hadn’t brought with him and Miles shrugged when he saw where she was looking. He was still a sucker, Charlie realized, and she loved him for it.
The girls, five-year old Sylvia and three year-old Anastasia were over near the fireplace, petting Max, the gray cat that had come with the hotel. Miles had growled about him since he’d bought it but Charlie was pretty sure the sleek coat didn’t just come from catching mice – the excuse he gave for tolerating the beast.
“How’s names going?” Miles asked and Bass shrugged.
“Badly, as usual. I thought of Samuel this morning.”
“Nope, knew a rebel kid who died named Sam,” Charlie said. They’d been planning on naming the first boy William Benjamin, after both her and Monroe’s father’s. But the first time they’d held him they had both decided they didn’t want their son to make them think of their dead, even if they were never far away. So they’d made a pact, not to name any child they had after anyone they knew, living or dead, which had actually made it difficult to pick names. Justin Raphael, Sylvia Cassandra and Anastasia Nicole had taken some creative thinking. ”Eric?”
Miles and Bass both winced. ”Guy in our unit,” Miles explained. ”Committed suicide six months after we got back from Iraq because his girlfriend left him.”
“It may be a girl,” Rachel pointed out. ”I think Bethany is pretty.” Miles and Bass both winced again and Rachel signed. ”Never mind. Not Bethany.”
“Now you see why we’re quitting at four,” Bass quipped. ”Coming up with this many generic names has been hard enough. We’ve been debating for a month now and still nothing. We’ll manage something – we always do – but I don’t even want to imagine what we’d do again.
“So what makes you so sure this will be your last?” Rachel asked.
“There’s a doctor in Arlington performing vasectomies,” Bass said. ”I’ve talked to some of his past patients and he seems to know what he’s doing. Did them before the Blackout too, just with a little bit more sophisticated equipment. Though from what I understand, not much has changed about the surgery one way or the other. “
“It does have the advantage,” Charlie admitted, “that I won’t be able to change my mind in a few years.” She suspected Bass would be grateful. He’d nearly driven her crazy, the entire time she’d been pregnant with Justin, barely even letting her pick up anything heavier than a book and following her nearly everywhere.
It hadn’t been until Gene had arrived with the Texas delegation when she’d been seven months along that he had been willing to listen to anyone’s advice and she suspected it was only the combination of doctor and her grandfather that had done the trick; as if he had been afraid any other doctor might not care about her. He had been better with the girls but the nightmares would still start about the sixth or seventh month and she’d wake to him crying out in his sleep.
“See,” Bass quipped. “No commune.”
“All right,” Charlie called. ”Everybody upstairs. Baths all around before we go. Justin, finish with the charcoal. I’m not having you touch it after you get cleaned up.” He stared at her and she signed. ”You know Aunt Julia has that set of colored pencils she lets you use and you can’t get those on your clothes.” Or his sisters clothes. Her son flashed his father’s grin, gathering the drawing supplies.
”So when are you due?” Rachel asked.
“Probably August.” She hated being pregnant in the summer, but she hadn’t exactly planned this one, which was part of the reason Bass was pushing for letting him get a vasectomy. ”Sylvia, leave Max alone. He’s not taking a bath with you.” Rachel went over to pick up Anastasia, fussing over both girls and the dolls they had with them. Charlie wasn’t quite sure if she was worried or proud that Sylvia had demanded a wooden crossbow for her doll and refused to let “Vicki” go anywhere without it.
“Oh,’ Rachel said, touching her arm. ”I got another letter from your grandfather last week. Do you want me to go grab it?”
“I’ll have you save it for after dinner. Something to look forward to.”
“There will be rider going to Austin in three days so you can include a reply. I still feel a little bad about using the government courier for my personal mail but Jeremy says I might as well. I suppose it works in my favor that Governor Carver is high maintenance.”
“Well,” Charlie shrugged, “his volunteering to change his title from President to Governor did do a lot for consolidating everything under Tom. He really hated to have the same rank as Governor Afleck.” The Plains Nations hadn’t had a single leader to placate so they, the Georgia Federation, and the Monroe Republic had spent the next few years re-aligning their territories to restore the pre-blackout borders of the original States. Tom had signed agreements with both Texas and California that their borders would remain unchanged as long as Carver and Affleck were in office – they were also both exempt from term limits. However, Affleck had allowed both Washington and Idaho to form into their own states during the last few years and would possibly give Oregon independence within the next year.
“I still think Bass should have let Tom give him the Governor title,” Rachel commented as they climbed the stairs behind the children and Charlie laughed.
“He couldn’t get away from politics fast enough once Tom got formally elected. We’re lucky he still lets people call him General and puts on the uniform when Julia wants to parade him around.” She’d argued with him about it plenty, hoping it would help restore his confidence in his ability as a leader but she’d eventually realized he had found that in his work with Miles and re-establishing an American military.
Julia, per custom when a state dinner was involved, had sent over dresses for them. Rachel’s was a charcoal gray lace with a matching jacket in velvet and Charlie’s was a dark turquoise silk that nearly matched the Monroe Militia uniform Bass was fidgeting into. He was into his fifties but she was pretty sure the gray in his hair was more from the children than from growing up. She sometimes wondered how he managed to barely age. ”Can you do my cuffs?” he asked as she toweled her hair. ”I don’t see why she always insists I wear this damn relic when we visit. What stupid moron decided to stick this M insignia where it jabs me right in the throat.” She prudently decided not to mention that stupid moron had probably been him.
“It’s just for the dinner tonight. Julia’s promised you can wear whatever you want – within reason – after this. And it’s only for three days anyway. “ They’d stay a few days after the French-Italy, German and English Ambassadors went on their tour of the rest of the United States.
Leaving the farm for a week – even if it wasn’t quite an hour’s wagon ride --had once been unthinkable with the livestock. However, six years before, Julia had sent them four retired Soldiers, three of them former-Militia. Julia had taken their pay out of her own budget so that she could demand their presence in D.C. whenever she needed to show off General Monroe. Bass hated being used as a political tool but even he acknowledged the results and it was a good excuse to visit with Miles and Rachel. ”Besides, elections are this fall and since Jeremy is going to run, you’d better get used to putting it on for Julia’s functions.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the same allure that had people keeping wild animals as pets that made them want to sit across from him at dinner. But whatever the reason, either General Matheson or General Monroe could draw a crowd. Together, Julia had often commented, they had practically bankrolled Tom’s re-election campaign doing her fundraisers.
One cattle baron from California had paid five pounds of diamonds to get them to stage an exhibition; the two of them and a set of wooden swords against his ten hand-picked competitors. They had been good fighters. But they hadn’t worked together as a team and the strengths that the Cattle Baron had chosen them for hadn’t worked to their advantage when fighting as a mob. It had been over in less than fifteen minutes, bruises all around and a few dislocated bones but the man had been delighted with the show. They’d invited him and his fighters back to the bar afterwards and Miles and Bass had spent the rest of the night being Miles and Bass; that magnetic charm between them that Charlie sometimes thought could manipulate anyone if they were trying hard enough.
“Well we’re not doing any more fights. I think I bruised a rib last time. I’m getting too old for this,” he griped and she hid a smile. He always said he was getting too old but she’d caught him teaching Sylvia and Justin both how to spar the week before. Unshaved, shirt torn, he’d still looked remarkably like the man she’d found in the ring at New Vegas over a decade ago. Her husband was a gladiator at heart, even if he liked to pretend he wasn’t.
“That’s fine.” There was no point in arguing because Julia could manipulate him easily enough on her own.
They rendezvoused downstairs, doing a last check to see that the kids had everything they needed and even looked presentable before they loaded into the carriage Julia had sent to them. She’d offered guest rooms at the White House, but while Charlie had come to appreciate and respect Tom over the years, neither of them was ever quite able to fully relax around the other.
The first person they saw as they walked into the White House was Conner, waiting for them in the hallway and he grinned that same Bass-smile that he and Justin both shared with their father. Connor looked more like Emma than Bass; just as she thought Justin looked more like her. It was Sylvia and Anastasia she thought looked most like Monroe. But that grin was unmistakable.
Charlie hung back to let him greet Bass and the kids first, mostly because she didn’t want to get stampeded by her daughters. All three of the children worshiped their older brother, and through the general din, she caught the girls complaining how mean Justin had been and couldn’t Conner ask him to be nice; Justin protesting they never left him alone didn’t that sound terrible to Conner. But all three united on trying to talk their sibling into coming to visit them soon.
He finally waded back through them to give her a hug and she accepted his kiss on her cheek and the teasing, “Mom.” He usually just called her Charlie, but they both enjoyed the occasional joke of the fact he was older than she was.
“How have you been?” she asked and the children quieted. They were high spirited but they also had manners.
“Good. Busy. Jeremy’s finally talked Julia into letting me be on his campaign so I officially work for him now. But she’s doing all the same things for his campaign that she did with Tom’s so nothing’s really different. Hey Uncle Miles, Aunt Rachel.” He called them by their names as well, but he was probably playing to the crowd waiting to greet them. He saw them a lot more often than he did Charlie since he usually went to Miles’ bar a few times a week.
The crowd parted around Julia and she still was the same stunning Julia – her hair a little more gray –but manipulating a nation seemed to agree with her. She greeted the adults warmly, which may have been an act, but her greeting for the children was a mischievous smile and an, “Okay, who wants cookies?” When she got the expected response she gestured over an aide. ”Go with Brandon and he’ll take you to have dinner and play with Maya and Tim while we go do boring stuff. Louisa, Isabelle and Davy are already up there. And yes, Justin, my colored pencils are in the playroom. Now you three, get out of here or I’ll make you sit through the adult dinner.”
It wasn’t an idle threat. Justin had once asked to stay with his parents and Julia had ordered an extra place set. He’d actually lasted about fifteen minutes into the speeches before he’d caved and asked to be excused. She straightened, brushing the fall of her magenta-silk skirt back into place as the children left, more or less in a rush. ”Thank you again for coming,” she said quietly under the general din of the exodus and that time Charlie was pretty sure it was sincere.
Julia led them into the reception hall and Charlie winced when she realized there were probably close to a hundred people. But she spotted Jason and his wife, Adrianna, talking with Carissa and her husband. Jason broke off to come over and hug her, his wife right behind him. Adrianna had a talent for putting everyone at ease so she and Julia double-teamed most political functions effectively. It couldn’t have been easy being the Neville’s daughter-in-law but Adrianna always made it look painless. Carissa’s husband, Jacob, was Adrianna’s older brother.
Miles and Bass had already made a beeline for Jeremy, though Bass still had his hand on his oldest son’s arm. Tom walked up and they moved to let him into the group. Being President had agreed with him about as much as it had Julia and his blazing tension had mellowed somewhat over the years, even if hadn’t faded altogether. He was still a little strained around Bass and Miles, which was why Charlie had noticed he usually greeted them immediately, then moved on soon afterwards. She knew from experience he’d stop in to talk to them multiple times during the night but the interactions would usually not last more than a few minutes.
She turned around to see Aaron and Cynthia already deep in conversation with Rachel. Tom kept Aaron employed under the title of “Secretary of Electrical Restoration.” It wasn’t exactly a cabinet position but it still commanded a great deal of influence, even if not one really knew if they’d ever actually restore power. Cynthia had resigned as Secretary of Education after about two years since she decided she missed teaching and disliked meetings. She ended up tutored Jason and Adrianna’s children as well as Carissa’s daughters and Cynthia and Aaron’s two year old son was usually there with them too.
She felt a hand in the middle of her back and she turned to see Bass looking at her, a little worried. ”You doing okay?”
“I’m good.”
“You sure? You’re looking a little lost, just standing here in the middle of the room.”
She smiled, stepping in to rest her head against his shoulder. She had noticed not many couple’s were so openly affectionate at State dinners; the occasional handclasp or kiss on the cheek. But Julia had told her years ago that Bass’ and Miles’ partners were given a little more leeway. It wasn’t the whole story, but if Julia wanted people to think General Monroe and General Matheson were controlled by their wives, she wasn’t going to argue with the results. The fact that she and Rachel were mother and daughter had led to speculation about Matheson women but it also reduced the chances of anyone attempting to use them as figureheads for any kind of political machinations.
His arms came around her. ”Do you need to go sit down?”
“I’m fine.” She leaned up to whisper into his ear. ”Just appreciating the view. Look at it.”
He was staring around the room itself at first, clearly trying to decide what she meant, but his eyes flicked over to Conner, then Aaron, and finally settled on Miles, who grimaced at them. Bass exhaled a “Huh,” then bent down for a kiss. ”That’s quite a family, isn’t it?”