36 Inches (Size Matters 3)

Only time will tell what the relationship with Mayor Anders and the City of New York will be like. During that time, many of you in Gotham will undoubtedly be wondering what happens to his estranged stepson who seems to have for the moment absconded with his wife.

“Since the Mayor and Jocelyn Carter were never truly married it turns out due to the form not being properly signed, there’s no real reason for a divorce,” his Chief of Staff Kenneth Loomis stated when contacted about this issue. “The Mayor wishes them both every happiness and hopes that they will keep him abreast of news of his grandson. But in all honesty, he’s probably going to be more focused on running the city.”

Citizens polled during Election Day stated overwhelmingly that the Mayor’s burst of honesty was what had made them finally favor him. Many stated that holding back such a key facet regarding his personality had affected him in other areas in how he presented himself to the public, which all coalesced to create such low approval ratings for him despite his photogenic family. I think that once citizens learned the full story of their Mayor, we began to realize that we may not like him as a person on some levels because he’s so busy, but the job of Mayor requires someone who will give it their all and sacrifice everything else. And that made him the top choice, by a margin of 63% to 37%.

That about does it for my coverage of this election cycle. I either need a vacation from politics, a long, hot shower to feel clean again, or both.

I can’t wait till Lance and Jocelyn come back to New York though—they’re currently in London—and you can bet that as soon as they have their baby that this newspaper will be all over them, getting the facts for your reading pleasure. Till we hear more, this is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your ears open, New York.

Epilogue - Jocelyn

The limo glides next to the curb of our new home in the city. I get out, and Lance comes out from the other side, holding the baby carrier.

I look up briefly. I can’t see the top of the tower to One57.

“How did you say you came to a decision to live here, again?” I ask him.

He shrugs as we walk into the ornate lobby. “I got a buddy who lives here,” he says.

“Someone from your wilder days?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

I can’t help it. Lance looks very cute carrying little Lola Grace in the baby carrier. A bad boy, certifiably with his tattoos, now a daddy.

“A buddy of mine from a while ago, actually, Arsen Hawke,” he says.

The name rings a bell for me. “The porn king?” I ask.

He nods. “His dad was the porn king, but he met some girl and they run it like a business now.”

“The guy who’s making webcams come into the mainstream?” I ask Lance. I’m a bit skeptical. “He’s not going to want to film Lola Grace or something, is he?”

Lance laughs. “Nah, but he’ll probably be down to him us.”

I give Lance a look. He looks at me and smiles and whatever withering stare I may have tried vanishes. I love this man too much to even be fake mad at him.

You know that feeling, hun? Where you’re mad at your significant other for being too cute to not let you be mad at them? Like you try to be mad at you, but then they just smirk or smile, or touch you somewhere and you stop being mad? And then you get mad that they were able to take away your anger?

Let me just say that I’d rather be mad about this, than where I was one year ago. Right before the election.

We open the door to the apartment and walk in.

It’s already furnished rather tastefully. I hired someone while we were in Europe to make sure that the apartment was ready for us.

What? I would have loved to do it myself, but it’s really hard when you have to have sex three times a day and take care of a baby.

Although, hun, the sex part - I don’t have to do it. It’s just that my body seems to want it that often, is all. Like I’ve been walking in a desert, and now I finally have all the water I could drink.

Besides, the $10 million a month that Michael pays me as a settlement lets me not have to worry about these things. Combined with Lance’s trust fund, I’d say we’re doing pretty good. Considering where we were.

There’s a knock at the door.

“That must be Michael,” Lance thinks and I’m almost tempted to say speak of the devil.

It’s funny. I want to stay mad at Lance, but I’ve already forgotten what that’s like. But Michael. I’m not mad at Michael. It’s just a chill that runs through me when I see him walk in the door.

He doesn’t have the human feelings that are supposed to be in people. Something like that. No way else to explain any of this…

“Hello,” Michael says walking in. “I just wanted to stop by, welcome you to my city, and visit my granddaughter.”