Giselle and I got married in a quiet ceremony not unlike the one her parents had had when they got married. Neither of our exes were in attendance, of course, but according to their social medias, they were pissed Giselle and I had beaten the odds and stayed together. We didn't care, personally.
A year later, Giselle gave birth to twins, and we named them Linda and Stella - Giselle had a bit of a thing for the Beatles, Paul McCartney in particular, and she'd always wanted to name them after his female relatives. So she did, and I had to admit, it made me fall in love with her even more. She'd joked that if she'd given birth to boys, she'd have named them John and Paul, and I'd half-joked about trying again, to which Giselle laughed and gave me an affectionate punch on the arm.
Andrew and Catherine were delighted to be grandparents, and Gerry was very, very pleased, given his stance the day we brough the girls home. He acted almost like a proud grandfather himself as he observed the girls from a safe distance. Giselle had never paid him too much mind, and I was relieved she didn't find him a threat. I was just glad he did the sensible thing and stayed a healthy distance away out of respect for our small family. But I could see how proud and happy he looked, and for the first time since encountering him in my old flat, I put two and two together at last. The moment the girls were settled, I told Giselle I'd be heading out for just a few minutes. She nodded, and I kissed her goodbye before gathering my coat and hurrying out of the flat. I walked to the park, and there Gerry was, almost as if he'd appeared by magic. "Hey, Dad," I said.
Gerry - my father - actually looked abashed. 'How'd you know it was me?' he demanded, his mental voice embarrassed, and if a spider could be said to be blushing, he was doing that right now.
"I figured it out when I spied you swaggering after we got the girls settled," I teased, and Dad huffed, as much as a spider could.
'You're definitely your father's son,' he acknowledged. 'Fair enough. Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't let you know it was me. Supernatural events aren't welcomed as a rule, and I didn't want to see you get sent to the loony bin. But I did the best for you I could, and it's paid off in spades. You've got a good job, a decent roof over your head, a loving wife, and two daughters who are perfect in every way.'
I smiled despite the tears now welling up. "I guess this means your work is done," I guessed.
Dad rested a foreleg on my hand. 'Those were the terms of the contract,' he told me. 'I was allowed to return with limits; I couldn't let you know who I was until you recognised me. Now that you've cottoned on, I have to go, or live out the rest of my time with no memories of you, or your wife and children.'
"I don't want you to go," I admitted. "But I'd rather you had all your memories intact."
\Wise lad,' Dad approved. 'I hate to leave you, but I'd rather remember all the good times we had, rather than spend the rest of my life in some random person's flat, wondering if they're going to squish, stomp, or spray me. And I've got my own growing clan to look after. My wife thinks you're a good man, by the way.'
I laughed. "Mum would have loved to have known you were still around," I said.
'I know,' Dad said, 'but she hates spiders, as you well know.'
"I do," I said. "But thanks. For everything. You don't know just how close I came to giving up after all the shit that happened to me. I'm really glad you were there, and I'll always be grateful to you."
'I just pulled a few strings here and there,' Dad said smugly. He sighed, spider-fashion. 'I'm going to miss you, kiddo. But you've turned out well, you have the life you want, and you're only going to go onwards and upwards. Truth be told, I did stay a bit too long, but I wanted to see my granddaughters, and now that I have, I can move on, content that I've cleared the worst of the bullshit out of the way. You're still going to have troubles crop up, but nothing like what you went through before. That's life; you've got to take the shit days with the good days, and the good days with the shit. But you've got Giselle, your daughters, your mum, and your in-laws, who seem to love you like a second son. You've all the resources you'll ever need to keep you going when things turn up shit. I'm about at the end of my tenancy, and the powers that be gave me a great more leeway than they ought to have when they heard my case. But even they can't extend my stay without penalty.'
I nodded. "Love you," I said.
Dad smiled, and for the first time, he looked almost human to me. "Back at you, kiddo.' Then he scuttled off the bench and into the bushes, and as he vanished, I thought I saw a fast-fading glimmer of light around him. Then he was gone, and I let the tears fall, feeling both happy and sad; happy that Dad had been there to help me get through the worst of the troubles plaguing me ever since my break up, but sad that I had to say goodbye to him.
But as my tears dried up, I knew it wasn't goodbye. Dad himself was now no longer allowed to stay with me, but as I got up, ready to return home to my family, I had the sneaking suspicion he was going to ask the powers that be for another favour. He'd always been a stickler for pushing the boundaries while he'd been alive, and as a spider, he'd definitely carried on that tradition in spades.
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