Epilogue Tessa
EPILOGUE: TESSA
December
I jammed my key in the lock, excited to check the tree. It had been something new everyday this week, though it had taken me a while to catch on. On Monday, there’d been a box. It’d been perfectly wrapped and nestled in the branches exactly at the “spot of honor.” That was the name Grant had given the spot in the front of the tree, just below the top.
That night, I’d pulled it out of the tree, turning the little box—which fit neatly in my palm—to and fro, but I waited until he got home to open it. “You didn’t have to wait,” he said with a grin, pulling me in close and landing a kiss on my lips.
“It’s a gift. I wasn’t going to unwrap it while you weren’t here,” I replied, and he chuckled.
“Looks like I’m going to have to stop wrapping your gifts, then,” he said, and I cocked my head, trying to figure out what he was thinking. It was hard to tell, though. As well as I knew Grant—and I certainly knew him better than anyone on Earth—he was impossible to read if he didn’t want his emotions known. I was always trying to identify some magical tell he was unaware of, but none seemed to exist. The man was made for poker, and it was a shame he didn’t like to gamble. “Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the gift, “open it.”
I took the gift to the dining room table and sat down, waiting for Grant to sit opposite me before I carefully lifted the first flap, then the second. The paper unwound to reveal a ring box, and I swallowed hard, preparing myself for what might be inside.
I flipped the lid and revealed not a ring, but a tag. “What…” The question trailed off, a single word dangling between us.
“It’s a dog tag,” he replied.
I plucked the tiny golden bone from the box. The front of the bone had the word “Barney” inscribed on it. I flipped the bone over, recognizing Grant’s phone number on the back. “I can see that,” I replied slowly, “but why? For what?”
“For Barney,” he said simply, and his smile grew deeper when I glowered at him in frustration.
“Grant,” I said irritably. “Who the hell is Barney?” I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of me at the absurdity of this conversation.
“Do you remember Mrs. Ferrano? She died last month.”
I nodded. Mrs. Ferrano had been a preschool teacher at Growing Feet Preschool for as long as I could remember, just down the street from the Bridgeport Family Medical, where Grant worked.
“Well, her son, Andy, took home her dog, Barney, when she died, but he’s been coming to me for a couple of weeks with some skin issues. And it’s pretty clear he’s allergic to Barney.
“That’s awful,” I said, frowning.
“Not for Barney, because he’s coming to live with us,” Grant said.
“Seriously?”
“Do you have room in your heart for a sweet, old dog?” Grant asked, a needless question since he surely knew the answer.
“Of course, yes!” I exclaimed.
Barney had come to live with us Tuesday afternoon, right after I found the second gift in the tree.
This one wasn’t a gift, it was a card with a painting of an orange couch on the front. I recognized the couch immediately as the couch from Friends , which was an odd choice for Grant. It was hard to picture him having ever watched Friends .
Curious, I plucked the card from the tree and flipped it open, recognizing Grant’s script, which I’d always found unusually lovely for a doctor.
Head upstairs to our bedroom for a little something new to make sure you never forget our first dance.
Love, Grant
Still holding the card, I walked up the stairs and to our bedroom, easily spotting a framed picture on the wall near the bathroom. At a distance I could tell it was an illustration of a record album, but I walked closer to see better, grinning as the details became clear. The center of the album was labeled ‘John Legend’s “All of Me,”’ and the lyrics were carefully written in concentric circles.
“Do you like it?”
I jumped, spinning to find Grant behind me, a small, ugly dog in his arms. “Oh my gosh,” I whispered. “This is the cutest, ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.” Grant laughed and I crossed the distance to meet him at the door to our room, scratching behind Barney’s ears. “I love it, by the way. It’s amazing and perfect—” I cocked my head to one side, remembering the one thing I didn’t understand. “—but why did you give me a card with the Friends couch on it?”
“It’s just a couch,” he replied. “Because, you know.” His brow bounced once and I laughed.
“It’s not just a couch, perv, it’s the couch from the show Friends.”
“Who would know that?” He grinned down at me, the small, crooked smile I loved most.
“Regular people who binge-watch television,” I said.
Grant bent down, setting Barney on the floor. The dog immediately began sniffing, then hopped up onto my reading chair and curled up sleepily. When Grant stood, his expression was serious. “I feel like there’s only one answer to this problem,” he said.
“It’s not a problem. I love the picture. I love the whole thing,” I protested.
His fingers slid around my jaw, stroking down my neck as he pulled me close, stopping only when my body was against his and his lips grazed my earlobe. “I need to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you never see a couch again without thinking of me.”
“We don’t have my couch anymore. Only yours,” I said.
“You think your couch is the only couch that makes me think of you? Every damn couch I see, I picture you bent over the side, ready for me.”
Starting up at his neck, I began to unbutton each of the buttons on his work shirt. “I always thought of you when I saw my old couch, but not this new one. You’ll have to fix that,” I said, sliding the shirt over his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
Without warning, he wrapped his hands around my thighs and lifted me off the ground, walking us out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck so we didn’t plummet to our deaths. “What about Barney?” I asked, breathless as he let me down in front of our living room couch and then began pulling the curtains shut.
Grant glanced up the stairs. “He’s asleep, but we can leave the lights on for him.”
“Deal,” I replied, and we made love over the arm of Grant’s couch.
The next day, I’d found a key dangling from the tree in the spot of honor. I pulled it off the tree, slipped it in my pocket, and sat down on the couch with my phone. Barney hopped up on the couch, curling his body against my butt.
Tessa: Do you have patients? I have so many questions.
The phone rang in my hand, and I swiped to answer. Barney looked up as Grant’s voice filled the room. “So many questions, eh?”
“Yes. So many. Like what is this the key to? Is this one of those Lexus commercials where you got me a Lexus—because that’s amazing and all, but I haven’t given you a single present yet, and a Lexus would almost be braggadocios at this point.”
Grant laughed. “I’m sure you can tell by the key it’s not a Lexus.”
“I can, but it still looks like a car key. Is it a car key? I didn’t see a car outside.”
“In fairness,” he said, “this gift is borrowed. The key is to Ethan and Nora’s van.”
My eyes went wide. “Were you hoping to cruise the United States and write hashtag-vanlife under all our pictures for the next year?”
Again, he laughed, and I smiled. “I was hoping for a shorter trip—a couple weeks—maybe to California and back if that sounds fun to you. And we don’t have to rush. Ethan said whenever.”
“Well, yeah,” I agreed. “It’s not like they’ll be roaming around in the van again until after the baby comes.” And maybe not then, either, in my opinion, but I knew they hoped to get back out after the baby since their van trip had been shortened by Nora’s miserable morning sickness.
“I like California. I’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco.”
“And I’d love to see the Redwoods,” he said.
I grinned. “This is going to be fun. Has anyone ever told you you’re ridiculously good at gift-giving?” I asked, scratching behind Barney’s ear.
“Nope.”
“Well, you are.”
He made a little noise. “See what you think of the last few gifts before you decide.”
I’d rushed home yesterday to see what on Earth he was giving me now, only to find a wide box nestled in the branches. It looked like jewelry, and I set the box on the kitchen table, wanting to wait until he was with me to look at it.
It was Grant’s late night at the clinic, so it was past eight when he came clomping in the back door, kicking snow off his boots. I walked into the kitchen to meet him, Barney at my heels. “I didn’t hear from you today. That either means you hated it or—” He grinned when he saw the box on the table. “Or you wouldn’t open it because you’re stubborn as shit.” He raised an eyebrow at me, bending to scratch behind Barney’s ears. “It’s not even wrapped.”
“I wanted to wait for you,” I said, catching his sweater as he rose and landing a kiss on his lips.
He slipped a hand under my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, then said, “I wasn’t sure if you would like it. It seemed safer to let you open it by yourself.”
“Of course I’ll like it,” I said.
He shrugged. “Maybe open it before you say so.”
It was clear the box was jewelry, and I understood why he was nervous. I didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, and we didn’t discuss my preferences often. I flipped open the box, revealing a beautiful sapphire garland necklace. It was studded in stones and surely incredibly expensive. “Grant,” I whispered.
“It’s been in my family for a few generations. My mom wanted you to have it. She said the blue was special—that it always reminded her of my eyes.”
I squinted at the necklace and then up at him. “She’s wrong. Your eyes are brighter—lighter. More like blue topaz than sapphire.”
His eyebrow raised high over one eye. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s beautiful. I don’t know when I’ll get to wear it, though.”
He held it up, and I lifted my hair so he could put it on me. “I had a couple ideas, starting with the New Year's Ball next week.” He finished the clasp, and I let my hair fall, turning to face him. “Beautiful,” he said. “Very blue.”
There were only two more days until Christmas, so I assumed there’d be another gift today. The door swung open and I dropped my bags in the foyer. Barney padded over to me, sniffing my ankles furiously. “Hey, Barn,” I muttered, giving him a quick scratch before slipping out of my boots and heading toward the living room. The tree’s lights were on, just as they'd been everyday this week, but at a distance I could already see there was no box in the tree today. “Holy shit,” I whispered, walking all the way to the tree and blinking stupidly. “Grant?” I called out, because it was the man’s day off, and there was no way he left me this gift and went out shopping. “Grant?”
There was no answer, and I reached a hand out, delicately plucking a ring from the tree. It was a stunning solitaire diamond ring, and as I picked it up I could see a tag hung from it. I twisted the tag to read it, easily making out the two simple words.
Marry me.
“Holy shit,” I repeated, then called out again. “Grant?” No answer. “Barney, did that motherfucker ask me to marry him when he’s not even home?” The question drew a laugh I knew wasn’t the dog. “Oh my God, you are home! Where are you?” I snapped, laughing as I followed his warm chuckle and found him sitting on the stairs.
“I didn’t wrap it today,” he said with a crooked grin, standing and closing the distance between us.
“Are you for real?” I whispered, holding up the ring.
He plucked it from my fingers and knelt down in front of me. “I wasn’t sure what I should say, Tess, and I’ll probably say it wrong anyhow. All I know is that somewhere in the midst of ‘trying to get you out of my system’ I realized I was seeking you out instead. So I gave in, decided not to fight what I was feeling, and the second I stopped trying to push you away, it was so damn obvious I was ass over teakettle in love with you.
“I could talk all night and never quite capture everything I love about you, so I suppose I should just say you’re perfect, Tessa. And I’m dreadfully bad at getting you out of my system, so I hope you’ll be mine. Marry me.”
“Of course I’ll marry you,” I gasped and he stood, catching my hand to slip the ring on. “I never stood a chance at getting you out of my system,” I said, and he dropped closer to land a tender kiss on my lips. I slid my fingers down his cheek, holding his beautiful blue gaze. “Oh my God, Grant. Blue.”
“What?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.
“This week. You gave me Barney—an old dog—the record—that was new—” He was already grinning sheepishly and I knew I’d figured out his little puzzle. “The van you borrowed, and the blue sapphires from your mother.” I laughed. “Did she really want to give me those or did you just need something blue?”
“As a matter of fact, the sapphires were the first thing I got, after the ring. My mom wanted to give you the necklace after I proposed so you could wear it at the wedding.”
“So you stole her thunder?” I joked. He laughed.
“Perhaps, but when she gave it to me I could see our wedding so clearly—you in the necklace and Barney as our flower dog, the two of us dancing to ‘All of Me’ and then taking our honeymoon to God-knows-where in a converted van.”
“Oh, Barney’s going to make the cutest flower dog, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” I gushed, crouching down to scratch the bristly hairs under Barney’s chin. I stood, melting into Grant’s embrace once more, propping my chin on his chest. “Your present is better than mine.”
“You know I don’t care,” he replied. “All I ever wanted was you.”