Epilogue
SIXPENCE NONE THE RICHER, “KISS ME”
10 years later
Gabby
“Once upon a time, a young girl who dreamed of fairy tales, while scribbling poems about love, met a boy who heard music in everything around him. I call them the poet and the composer. What do you think?” Seren said while signing.
She sat cross-legged on the floor at the end of our bed, and Ben braided her hair.
It calmed both of them.
I, however, was anything but calm, unzipping my dress for a third outfit change.
“It’s perfect, sweetheart. But we can’t forget Aunt Sarah,” Ben said to our daughter.
Our whole family was being interviewed on a nationally televised morning show because Sarah, Ben, and I won an Obie (Off-Broadway Theater Award) for our musical The Preacher’s Daughter.
Seren thought they would ask her what the play was about, so she was practicing her explanation.
She wasn’t wrong. It was inspired by our love story, a dramedy that ended with the birth of a child, a girl named Bobbie (a nod to Bob Ross) because she was a happy accident. In real life, Bobbie was Seren, inspired by the word serendipity, which also defined a happy accident.
The Preacher’s Daughter stood a good chance of transitioning to a Broadway musical with its success and awards. We never intended on staying in New York City forever, but our life was the epitome of unplanned.
“Seren, get dressed,” I said when Ben finished her braid.
“I’m going,” she said with a little sass before carrying her brush out of our bedroom.
“Baby, take a breath,” Ben said, looking handsome and unfairly calm, perched on the end of our bed, hands folded between his spread legs.
Benjamin Ashford looked sinful in a black suit and tie. My best friend got more handsome every year. And the world was about to get a good look at him and hear how he didn’t let his disability deter him from pursuing his passion.
After two years of working on the ranch, Ben went back to school and earned his degree in music composition. We rented a tiny apartment near campus, and I worked evenings and weekends waiting tables while Ben stayed home with Seren and studied. During the day, when Seren napped, I worked on my writing. Sarah convinced me to write my and Ben’s story. Then she and Ben wrote the lyrics and music. With her connections in the industry, our little story came to life as a musical.
I turned so Ben would zip my black dress that covered my knees, shoulders, and cleavage. Dad would be proud.
But before he zipped it, Ben kissed my bare back. “I love you. I think it’s what I do best.”
After he zipped it, I pivoted toward him, resting my hands on his clean-shaven face for a few seconds before signing, “You try. And I appreciate that. But you didn’t love me in the beginning, chapter one, like I loved you. But?—”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Ben!” I squealed when he tickled my sides. “Stop.” I giggled and squirmed. “I’m going to wet my pants.”
“Sorry. I can’t hear you. Did you say I’m a stud, and I’ve always loved you more than you love me?”
I tried to push him away.
“For goodness’ sake. Mom, just say he’s a stud!” Seren called from her bedroom.
It wasn’t the first time she heard or witnessed Ben’s childish behavior. I wasn’t sure Seren knew what a stud was, but Ben loved that our playfulness amused her.
I grabbed his hair, and he stopped, our faces an inch apart as I caught my breath. There was something special about the moments when we weren’t moving our hands or lips to speak. There was a stillness, a magic, an exchange of something more than words. When I opened my mouth to speak, to break the silence, he kissed me.
* * *
If you fell for Gabby and Ben’s love story, get ready to lose yourself in Reese and Fisher’s forbidden romance in The Naked Fisherman.