Epilogue
During October, Maren and I take short flights around Montana on the weekends, where I’m reminded flying will always be part of who she is.
And Lola finds a new passion.
“I’m going to be a pilot just like Maren,” she says, taking both our hands while we walk to the hangar after a day trip to Bozeman.
“Why not a mechanic?” I ask.
“Ew, you have dirty fingernails. Maren wears pretty polish.”
We laugh at Lola’s strong reasoning.
“And when I have a baby brother or sister, I’m going to teach them how to fly.”
I stiffen, waiting a few seconds to sneak a peek at Maren. Will Lola ever stop embarrassing me? Putting me on the spot? Planning out my future?
“Are you rescuing another cat?” I laugh it off.
Lola releases our hands and turns toward us, walking backward. “When you get married, Maren will have a baby. She’s going to want her own, ya know. That’s what Dakota’s mom said.”
“Dakota? Your friend from school?” Maren asks.
“Dakota, the bane of my existence,” I mumble.
“Twins would be cool,” Lola chirps, spinning in a circle. “Then I could have one to hold all the time, and you two could share the other one.” She beams.
I’m so out of my depth, it’s impossible to formulate a real reply. Maren and I haven’t talked about kids other than Lola. And I haven’t proposed, even though she’s surely expecting it since I called dibs on proposing.
“Hi, Sean!” Lola runs toward the security guard she’s befriended at the entrance to the building.
“Sorry. She has no filter.” I take Maren’s hand, but I can’t look at her.
“It’s refreshing,” she says. “Some people think I don’t have one either.”
“You love your job, and—”
“I want whatever you’ll give me, Ozzy.” Maren steps in front of me, so I stop. “I want to fly planes and put out fires. I want to braid hair and go to softball games. I want to show Lola that she can do and be anything in life. That’s what her mom did. Right?”
I nod.
“We have a home. A cat. A tree house. A curly-haired blond. We watch Disney movies and eat doughnuts on the weekends. Every week, I have a girls-only lunch with Lola, your mom, and Ruth. Anything you’re willing to share with me, to give me, I’m in.” She grabs my shirt and kisses me.
“Stop kissing. I’m hungry,” Lola calls. “Gah! You’re always kissing.”
I don’t stop kissing Maren, but we grin.
The next two months fly by with Lola turning eleven, Thanksgiving, and a wedding.
Fitz and Jamie have a holiday wedding, with ten inches of new snow and a very excited junior bridesmaid. They asked Lola to be the flower girl, but she thought junior bridesmaid sounded better—because Dakota’s mom said eleven was too old for a flower girl.
Maren is the maid of honor. And I’m the guy tasked with keeping Will from getting drunk and sleeping with a doctor named Everleigh Reichart and breaking her heart for a second time.
Everything goes as planned, until the bouquet is tossed, and Lola catches it and gives it to Maren. “Now my dad has to marry you.”
For the record, I have a ring in my pocket, but there’s no way I’m letting the women in my life tell me when and where I’ll propose.
“If you catch the bouquet and give it away, the person you give it to is cursed to a single life with cats and knitted toys for the rest of her life,” I say.
Lola wrinkles her nose and opens her mouth while Maren laughs and hands the bouquet back to Lola. “You’d better keep it. I’m hoping to one day meet my Prince Charming.”
Lola rolls her eyes. “Duh. He’s right in front of you. And he even got a—”
I cover her mouth with my hand. She’s the best, but also the worst. Lola can’t keep a secret. I knew letting her pick out the ring was a mistake.
“Go find Will.” I point across the dance floor. “He’s talking to the dark-haired lady, but he owes you a dance.”
Lola huffs. “Fine.”
Maren bites back her grin.
“Don’t give me that look,” I say. “She’s a pill and so are you. Both of you in your red tulip dresses are pills .”
“I didn’t do anything.” She giggles before sipping her wine. “And it’s a tulip-effect skirt in mulberry velvet, not red.” She runs her hand over the mulberry dress that has a satin ribbon around the waist.
She’s so beautiful I can barely breathe.
“You are handsome in this suit.” She straightens my tie with one hand before feathering her fingertips down the length of it.
I might drop Lola off at my mom’s later so I can have Maren in all the ways I want her.
“Jamie is a stunning bride. And Fitz has never looked happier,” Maren says, watching her friends dance to Kacey Musgraves’s “Space Cowboy.”
I take her glass and set it on the table; then I lead her to the dance floor and pull her to me, slowly swaying in a circle. “I hadn’t noticed Jamie. I’ll take your word for it.”
Maren gazes into my eyes. “I wonder if your mom would let Lola spend the night.”
I chuckle and kiss her forehead. “Baby, I’m two steps ahead of you.”
After the song ends, I call Ruth to make sure she and my mom are okay with us bringing Lola to the house so late. Then we stay until the end, seeing the happy couple off.
“You’re going to Grandma’s for the night. Ruth’s getting you doughnuts in the morning,” I announce when we climb into my Land Rover.
“Why?” Lola asks with a yawn.
Maren shoots me a wide-eyed gaze with her lips in a tight smile.
“It’s late, so you need to sleep in tomorrow morning, but Maren and I are going to get up early to do some deep cleaning around the house.”
“Oh.” Lola yawns again. “I thought it was because you wanted to have sex without me there. Dakota’s mom sends him to his dad’s when she has a guy stay at their house.”
Fucking Dakota’s mom.
“Well, we’re just cleaning house.” I double down on my lie because I refuse to tell my eleven-year-old that I want to have kitchen sex, sofa sex, stairs sex, bathroom sex, and loud, headboard-banging bedroom sex with her new role model.
Lola mumbles an okay and falls asleep before we get to my mom’s.
And by the time we pull into Maren’s house (our house), she’s asleep too.
I carry her inside and set her on her feet at the bottom of the stairs. Dropping Lola off was all for nothing. Maren looks so groggy.
“I’m going to check Bandit’s water and shut off the lights. I’ll be up in a bit,” I say.
Maren nods and mumbles something I can’t hear. I think it’s “Okay.”
After checking Bandit’s water, I unknot my tie and start to slide my jacket off my shoulders while making my way to the stairs through the kitchen.
“Slow down,” Maren says, standing next to the fridge, wearing nothing but a strapless dark-red bra and a black lace thong. “I like watching you undress.” She scrapes her teeth along her lower lip. “Do you like watching me undress?”
I grin, slowly unbuttoning my white dress shirt. It’s going to be a long night.
I’m an idiot.
This is stupid.
I’ve managed to trick Maren into thinking dandelions are the world’s best flower. What are the chances that she’ll find this endearing and romantic? With Lola at my mom’s and my brain fuzzy from practically no sleep, I let impulse drive my actions.
I slide the folded squares of toilet paper under the bathroom door. She’s on the toilet. I can hear her peeing.
Yeah, this is already an epic failure, but I can’t stop now.
“Ozzy,” she laughs. “What are you doing? I’m going to the bathroom, and I’m so tired. I’m coming back to bed for actual sleep this time.”
“I thought you might need toilet paper,” I say.
She snorts. “I’m good. There are a half dozen rolls under the sink. Oh my god, you wrote on the toilet paper?” She laughs at my message.
Three words in the correct order: I love you
“I love you too,” she says with a giggle before flushing the toilet.
I stare at the things in my hands and shake my head. Was I high when I thought of this? On a sex high? It’s the only explanation, but I slide the sanitary napkin under the door anyway while Maren washes her hands.
It says: Will you marry me?
Then I quickly shove the diamond ring with a tampon in it under the door too.
The water stops running.
Everything’s quiet.
Dammit!
What was I thinking?
I get down on one knee. Then I stand. Maybe I should have put on a T-shirt; I’m just in my underwear. As the door opens, I opt to take a knee again.
The tears in Maren’s eyes make them appear a brighter shade of blue. I love all her emotions and how each one shows a different side of her beauty.
She pulls out the tampon and slides the ring onto her finger. Her hair is a mess, and she’s naked under the blue throw blanket from the bed.
“Is that a yes?” I ask. “You put the ring on. No take-backs.”
She nods a half dozen times and releases those tears.
“You have to say it.” I smirk.
“You first.” She presses her palm to my cheek, letting the blanket fall from her body.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I’m in awe of this woman—her talent, love, patience, and perseverance. I will never stop thinking of myself as a fortunate man despite life’s tragedies. It’s never the things I see coming that take my breath away. It’s the moments that come from nowhere.
A lost wallet.
A car accident.
And an empty toilet paper roll.