Epilogue
A warm April sunshine had dried the lawn at the Crane Hotel in the nick of time. It had rained all week, threatening Annie’s vision of an outdoor wedding, and Sybil had her hands full keeping two normally levelheaded women from dissolving into hysterics.
It made her question if she ever wanted to be pregnant.
But the sun had come out Friday morning, followed by unseasonably warm temperatures, which meant it reached a balmy seventy degrees instead of fifty-five. The perfect weather for an outdoor wedding. Plus, it was springtime, so the birds were adding their own joyful chorus to the occasion.
Sybil didn’t know how she’d ended up as a bridesmaid in Annie and Jordy’s wedding. She didn’t think they were that close. If she had to guess, it had a lot to do with the stunningly handsome blond groomsman across from her who was doing his best to keep his crying dignified and undistracting.
The wedding party was made up of the Brunch Bros and their wives. Well, wives plus her. True to his word, Peter asked her to marry him at least once a week, but she hadn’t given in yet.
The last six months had been hard. They’d been doing long distance while Peter worked, and every phone call or video chat filled her heart only to break it when they had to hang up. He was slowly scaling back his workload as he was able, trying to create a better balance for them, but that took time since he’d filled his schedule before they’d decided to give it a go again. She missed him fiercely. But that was ending, at least for a few weeks. Peter was taking her to Italy between projects.
It had taken a lot of work to convince her to go. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go on vacation with Peter and eat pasta and gelato until she couldn’t button her pants, but after a lot of setbacks and delays with the bookstore, she had been apprehensive about taking off during the final weeks before they opened. But Mallory and Peter combined into an unstoppable force of persuasion.
Her suitcase, chock full of condoms thanks to Mallory, was packed and ready to leave first thing in the morning.
She caught Peter’s eye from across the aisle.
“I love you,” he mouthed.
“I love you too,” she mouthed back.
The dance floor was full as the band played “These Arms of Mine.” Sybil surveyed the dance floor, her eyes settling on Annie and Jordy. They were in their own little blissful world, so wrapped up in each other their guests could have left en masse and they wouldn’t have noticed. Jordy kissed his wife’s forehead and put his hand on her pregnant belly. The many colored flowers embroidered on her flowing wedding dress, and the flowers woven into her hair, made her look like a fertility goddess.
“Do you think Annie and Eloise planned to get pregnant at the same time?” Sybil mused as she swayed back and forth with Peter.
“I think it was fate,” Peter replied. “And the inevitable consequence of too much unprotected sex.”
Her head fell back as she laughed.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
“You can’t propose at someone else’s wedding,” she said.
Peter shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
“Someday you’re going to ask and I’m going to say yes and you’re going to be upset that I said yes at a gas station.”
“Why would I be upset? You finally said yes.”
“Because you’re a hopeful romantic and a gas station isn’t romantic. Your brand of ridiculousness is why I picked the bookshop for our reunion.”
Peter frowned slightly. “Isn’t it hopeless romantic?”
“Yes, but you never give up. Hopeful.”
“That was a beautiful wedding.” Peter clinked his champagne flute against Jordy’s.
The four friends sat at an empty table at the nearly empty reception, watching the last few stalwart partiers on the dancefloor. Most of the people left were Jordy’s former teammates from the Los Angeles Phantoms, trying to milk every last drop from the open bar.
Across the dancefloor he saw Maddy, her fiancé’s gigantic suit coat draped across her shoulders, talking to Eloise, Annie, Lacey, and Sybil. Given the amount of gesturing towards various body parts, and the mildly horrified looks on Lacey and Sybil’s faces, the three pregnant women were complaining about their various aches and pains, bonded in their shared misery .
“You’re next,” Jordy told him with a wide grin.
Sam snorted. “Sybil ducked when Annie threw the bouquet. Did you see it hit the woman standing behind her?”
“Right in the face.” Graham shook his head and sipped his champagne. “It might be a while until we get to do this again.”
“I’m doing my best,” Peter said. “I ask her to marry me at least once a week.”
Graham, Jordy, and Sam turned their heads in unison to stare at him.
“You do what?” Graham asked.
Peter didn’t get a chance to explain because Lacey appeared and plopped herself down on Sam’s lap.
“Well, that conversation really solidified my decision to never, ever be pregnant.” She put a hand on Sam’s chest and looked deep into his eyes. “You went to the follow-up appointment for your vasectomy, right? No chance any of those swimmers breached the dam?”
“I definitely went to my follow-up appointment. But you’re making me want to call the urologist to get a follow-up to the follow-up.”
“We should make it a tradition. Yearly trip to the urologist to calm our paranoia.”
They high fived.
There really was someone out there for everyone.
Graham divided the remains of the champagne bottle between his glass and Jordy’s, then asked, “So, Peter, how long are you and Sybil going to be in Italy?”
“A few weeks. I wanted to take advantage of these few weeks before the summer season starts. I’ve booked us some cooking classes, but other than that, we’re focused on relaxing and reconnecting.”
The last six months had been hard on Peter. He hated, with every strand of his DNA, being away from Sybil. No amount of voice or video calls made up for not being able to hold her in his arms. But there was an end in sight. Within the next year he’d have wrapped all the projects he had on his books and then he was going to take a break from working. Not forever, because he loved his job, but instead of saying yes to everything, he was going to be much choosier about his projects. It would have to be something special to pull him away from Sybil.
Deciding to scale back his workload had been an incredibly freeing experience. Peter had expected to feel an incredible anxiety the first time he said no, that he’d panic about never getting called again, or be tossed into a spiral where he’d obsessively check the internet to see if there was an article calling him a spoiled, entitled brat, but instead he felt relieved. Saying no to that role meant he got to say yes to more time with Sybil, or possibly yes to a project that really excited him.
“What’s after Italy?” Jordy drained his champagne flute like Graham hadn’t just refilled it.
“About a month and a half filming in Atlanta, and then I will be reporting for uncle duty.”
Jordy and Graham looked at each other and gestured back and forth, like they were trying to figure out who Peter was talking about. Their wives were due within two weeks of each other.
“I’m coming back to Crane Cove,” he clarified. “I’m going to live here.”
“There goes the neighborhood,” Sam said and grinned when Peter glared at him.
“You know,” Graham said, his voice slow and contemplative, “it took a few years, but once Annie and Jordy move to their Oregon house, we’ll all be together again. We won’t have to go months without seeing each other anymore.”
“Our kids can grow up together,” Jordy pointed out, then looked at Sam and Lacey and said, “You should get a puppy to join in on the baby boom.”
Lacey shook her head. “I don’t think Daisy is ready to give up being an only child yet.”
“Not to pry,” Graham said to Peter, “but since you’re asking Sybil to marry you every week, have you two talked about the future beyond that?”
“You mean have we talked about having kids?” Peter shrugged. “A little bit. She’s on the fence, so we’ll see.”
The upside to a long distance relationship was that they’d been able to have a lot of long discussions about what their future would look like and what they wanted out of life. Sybil was unsure if she wanted children, but her uncertainty centered around her fear that she wouldn’t be a good mother because she hadn’t had a good mother. Peter was fine either way. If they had no children or five children, he’d be happy as long as Sybil was happy.
If they did have children, he wouldn’t be surprised if his parents announced a very sudden retirement and bought a house on their street. Even if they didn’t have children his parents would probably buy a vacation house in Crane Cove because they adored Sybil so much. It had been the shock of his life to learn that they called her every week and she answered .
A slow song started to clear the dance floor of the rowdy guests, and the band announced it would be the last song.
Peter pushed back his chair and stood. He caught Sybil’s eye across the dance floor and she met him halfway, relief flashing on her face like neon letters once she was in his arms.
“I should have bailed on that conversation when Lacey did,” she said, and shuddered. “Pregnant women have no filters.”
“Misery loves company,” he reminded her.
“Next time I’d like to be left off the guest list.”
Peter chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I love you. We should get married.”
“Twice in one night?” Sybil raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Is all the love in the air getting to you?”
“I mean, it’s hard not to wonder what our wedding will be like…”
“Small. I know you know every person on the planet, but I’d break out in hives if that many people were staring at me. Not Vegas, though. No offense to Sam and Lacey, but that also isn’t my thing—why are you smiling like that?”
“Because you’re planning our wedding.”
Sybil blushed a perfect shade of rose and rolled her eyes to try and dispel any appearance of sentimentality on her part.
“Well, you asked.”
“Actually, I didn’t. I made a statement.” He kissed her quickly before she could argue with him. “And I’m fine having a small wedding. We could self-solemnize in Colorado as long as I get to marry you.”
“We’re not getting married yet.”
Peter grinned. “Not yet. But I can be patient. You’re worth the wait.”