Epilogue
Brooklyn
G reer took the rag out of my hand as I turned to wipe down the bar for the millionth time, and I limply protested.
“Go get out of my bar,” she said lightly, and it wasn’t like I wanted to argue, but it felt like the right thing to do.
“It’s Friday. Last Friday of the summer. We’re going to be slammed. And all you’ve got for the next hour is Ramón.”
She smiled serenely. “I know. I’m making my peace with the situation. But there’s a fifty percent chance that you’ll quit to go see your girlfriend if we keep you any longer. Move along. Tell her I said hi.”
I relaxed, tossing the rag into the hamper, giving her a grateful smile. “You’re not the worst boss I’ve ever had, y’know.”
“And you’re not my least favorite employee. Okay, go. I’ve got things to do here.”
Well, she didn’t have to tell me twice. I didn’t think I’d ever changed out of my uniform so fast, practically tripping over myself as I swept through the back and changed down to my light summer shirt, and I was out the door faster than Ramón could spot me and try to pull me in for a meandering chitchat.
The airport was bustling with activity when I got there, which meant I wasn’t a moment too soon—there weren’t exactly a ton of flights in and out of the place, so it must have been Ryan’s flight that had landed and was waiting to deplane. I parked the car as close as I could and took quick steps across the lot, half-running by the time I got to the arrivals gate, and I did a double take when I saw Allison close to the doorway, looking a little frazzled in her work uniform but giving me a shit-eating grin.
“I thought you were working,” I said, making my way over to punch her shoulder playfully. She laughed, returning the gesture.
“Look who’s talking. I know you were on the schedule today.”
“Yeah, well, Greer didn’t want me sad-puppying at work thinking about missing Ryan at the airport. You don’t have an excuse. Your girlfriend’s not the one showing up.”
She laughed. “I don’t need an excuse. I told them I wasn’t feeling well enough to keep going for the day. I didn’t feel like sticking around.”
I folded my arms with a scoff, falling back against the wall as the crowds kept chattering around us. “Getting a girlfriend ruined you. Your work ethic’s down the toilet.”
She put her hands up. “Honestly, I just don’t need the job. Things have all been great at the studio, so I’ve been getting more and more annoying at work just daring them to fire me, but they haven’t done it. If I’d realized they were this desperate, I’d have started slacking off ages ago.”
Ah, that figured. Stella would rub off on her like that. It had taken no time at all, since Stella had declared she wasn’t keen on going back and wanted to spend her whole summer break here on the island with Allison, for the two arts students to get carried away. They were volunteering to run classes at the local painting studio before the month was out, and by now, they’d both stepped up to running workshop programs and digging up money from the tourists crowding in for the summer. Allison had dropped down to working two days a week at the resort, and I guess it was no surprise she was putting in increasingly little effort on her shifts.
“Besides,” Allison said, her gaze flicking past me, “it’s… well, you know. It’s a big deal, Ryan getting back, Stella partying it up with her. Not a lot more big deals going on before Stella and I are back out of here.”
I laughed. “You’re not worried, are you? That girl’s obsessed by now.”
“Nah.” She kicked at the ground. “I mean, a little. I still don’t know why she’s dating me. I feel like I’m getting pranked, and any second now, someone’s going to jump out and yell surprise, dumbass, Stella’s got better things to do. But, uh, my insecurities aside, I mean, I’m just going to miss her. Long-distance is gonna suck.”
“Let me guess. You’ve looked up how long it would take to drive to where she lives.”
“Shut your mouth.” She huffed, slumping against the wall next to me. “Five hours, forty-three minutes. Assuming traffic is bad.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad.”
“Yeah… but that’s still only, like, weekends we get to spend together.”
I laughed as the crowd sharpened into focus around us, movement stirring from the gate. “Ah, young love. Have fun with it. Enjoy the corny things, the late-night long-distance chats, constant video calls, the excitement on Friday mornings that you’re going to see her that night. It's cute.”
“Easy for you to say when you’ve hooked a poor innocent woman into your net and she’s not going anywhere.”
I arched a brow at her. “Pretty sure you’d been the one telling me to get with her.”
She grinned. “Yeah. So? I’m just saying I’m jealous, I wish I could hook the poor innocent woman I’m with into my net.”
“Emotionally, you’ve done great. Still need to buy you a toaster oven at some point.”
She frowned. “What? Why would I need a toaster?”
“Ah, forget it. The youth don’t know their culture.” I didn’t get to insult Allison any further, though, because that was when the crowd came from the gate, and my heart fluttered in my chest scanning the faces as soon as they came in. Didn’t take long, despite how every second felt like an eternity—there, towards the front of the crowd, her duffel bag slung under one arm, choppy brown locks dancing over tanned shoulders, was the woman I was almost embarrassingly head over heels for, the woman who’d had the nerve to go for two weeks on an investigative reporting trip and leave me with nothing to do except miss her.
Unbearably cruel. I’d forgive her, though. She was damn beautiful.
Her eyes found mine in the crowd, and she lit up, pushing through the people around her and breaking out to hurry over towards me, and I found a huge, dopey grin settling over my features, leaning back against the wall about to make some clever comment that was suddenly very irrelevant when she dropped her bag on the ground and flung herself on me in a kiss, arms wrapped around my neck, lips crashing into mine with a sensation like coming home, like settling in a warm bed after a long day, like tucking into my favorite comfort food with my favorite comfort show.
“Hi there,” she said, pulling back from the kiss, eyes twinkling. I let my hands fall to her waist, resting my forehead against hers.
“Not even letting me get a word in, huh?”
“I’d been rehearsing that moment in my head for hours sitting on planes. Even better than I’d imagined it being, though.”
Allison snorted. “God, you two are corny,” she said, and Ryan glanced her way with the vague surprise of someone who didn’t know she was there but wouldn’t have done anything differently if she had known.
“You’re the one who seemingly ditched work to come watch, Allison,” she said brightly.
“Ignore her,” I said. “She was just telling me how she’s jealous.”
“Mm. She should be,” she said, settling in for another quick kiss on my lips before stepping back, reaching for her duffel bag before I swooped in and snatched it up, and she fumbled for it. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Carrying a bag for my girlfriend, who is very traveled and very tired.”
“I’m an adult,” she laughed, hands on her hips, and I planted a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“One who likes to be spoiled. Besides, aren’t your parents here somewhere watching? Still trying to make a good impression.”
She snorted. “You know I abandoned them on the jet bridge to push ahead and find my girlfriend. They’ll be coming along. Besides… you’re good. They won’t stop talking about you. I worry they like you better than they do me at points.”
She was right about one point—they came along right as she was mentioning them, her mother pushing through the crowd first and her expression softening seeing us, and her father after, a man with a serious expression on his face just about all the time but was not, I’d learned, quite as scary as he looked. Her mother pushed over to give me a hug, gushing, “Oh—but you really are awfully far away, Brooklyn.”
“And you’re devastated, I assume, Mrs. Bell. Simply no choice but, tragically, to go on more island vacations.”
“Oh, indeed. It’s excruciating. It’s good to see you again, you know,” she said, stepping back, her gaze soft as she looked at me.
“I didn’t mean to make you come out all this way,” I said, and she laughed, waving me off.
“Please. We’re just protective of our daughter. She got back from Florida only just last night and was immediately taking off to another tropical paradise, and we weren’t ready quite yet to let her disappear for who knows how long this time…”
“Mom, I’m not disappearing,” Ryan said, hands on her hips. “I’m staying with my girlfriend.”
“ Very far away from home, yes,” Mrs. Bell laughed, and she turned to Allison, beaming brightly. “And it’s about time we finally properly met.”
“Oh, uh,” Allison said, standing up taller. “Hi, Mrs. Bell. I’m an honor… it’s an honor. I’m honored to meet you.”
A smile danced on Mrs. Bell’s lips. “You can’t hide behind my other daughter also finding a happy relationship on the island. If you don’t treat Stella well, we’ll have words.”
“I won’t—I’ll treat her well, I mean,” Allison blurted. “I mean, god, I’m really trying my best. I don’t know how I even got this far in the first place, so I’m sure as hell not taking it for granted. I mean… yeah.”
Poor girl was about to pass out from nerves. She’d clearly forgotten Ryan’s parents—Stella’s parents—were showing up here too, when she decided last-minute to crash the arrival party. I figured I’d save her sorry ass. “Allison and Stella are still directing one art workshop before they head back to the mainland,” I said cheerfully. “You and your husband should attend, Mrs. Bell. See how corny-happy the two of them are. It’s cute.”
Allison shot me a desperate look, like she didn’t realize I was doing her a favor. Mrs. Bell beamed at me. “I’m sure that’ll be lovely,” she said. “Right, Mark?”
Her husband chuckled, giving a disarming shrug. “I don’t think even those two can get me to paint anything decent,” he said. “But I’ll go along for the ride. Just don’t look at my canvas.” He gave me a studying look—we’d interacted less than Mrs. Bell and I had, and I could see he was still sizing me up, the resort bartender who’d taken his daughter away. “Will you be there, too, Brooklyn?”
Ryan stepped in to my defense, a hand on my lower back. “Allison probably doesn’t want Brooklyn there,” she laughed. “Brooklyn’s already gone to heckle her at enough of them. C’mon, Mom, Dad, Brooklyn, let’s go. I’m exhausted and I want to take a shower and crash on a couch with my girlfriend.”
“And your brother’s enjoying not being here,” I said, slipping my hand into Ryan’s to lead her away. She laughed, resting her head against mine.
“He’s partying it up all by himself back home… just the way he likes it. He told me to tell you hello, though. And to give Allison a break if she’s gotten too much of Stella.”
Allison rolled her eyes, joining us. “Your brother just doesn’t understand the concept of liking somebody.”
She wasn’t wrong. But hey, we each had our own things.
The trip back to my house was lively, Ryan and her parents cramming into my car—I tried not to think about the times we’d had sex in the car when I was opening the door for her mom—all of us chatting over the radio. Despite it all, though—eyes on the road, conversation filling the air, the music streaming through the car—in the center of it, I still felt Ryan’s eyes on me, her gaze lingering softly from the passenger seat, that look of total adoration that I couldn’t let myself think too much about or I’d get too mushy to drive.
Allison’s car lagged behind by the time we got back to my house—she always drove slow and safe, and you could tell when Stella was borrowing her car based on the way it was moving about twice as fast as normal. It was one way Stella hadn’t managed to rub off on Allison, even though she had picked up Allison’s trait of strolling down the road from their bungalow and barging into my house, judging by the lights being on inside and music playing from the house when we showed up. Ryan laughed, giving me a look across the center console.
“I’m going to assume that’s my sister in your house?” she said, and I sighed helplessly.
“The longer she spends around Allison, the more she sees fit to invite herself into my home. She did say she’d help with things for the welcome-back party. I guess this is what she meant.”
“She’s so weird.”
“You’re telling me. You’ve been gone for two weeks to track down truth and justice, and Stella’s had to process her lack of siblings by bothering me instead. Well, let’s go inside and see your weird sister for ourselves.”
The house was filled with music and the scent of cinnamon from whatever Stella was baking, together with where she apparently hadn’t been satisfied with just inviting herself into my house but also her friends from the art studio—a few faces I recognized from how we all knew each other on the island, crammed into the kitchen gushing and laughing together, Stella in the middle of it all like she was born to be here, hair up in a ponytail and an apron on, and she shot us a look when we came in like I was the one barging in on her home.
“What—you’re way too early! What are you doing here? Go, go!”
“This is my home . I pay a mortgage on it and everything. Also, I told you this was when Ryan would be getting back—”
“Ah, god, I lost track of time,” Stella laughed, pushing away the bowl she was working in and rinsing her hands before coming over to give me a hug, moving quickly from me to Ryan and then to her mom and then her dad, turning on Ryan at the end of it as we filtered into the living room. “You look like a disaster.”
“Firstly, yes, that’s travel for you. Secondly, so do you. You’ve got flour caked on your face.”
Stella laughed, beaming. “Yeah, that checks out. Would it have killed you to be late?”
Ryan rolled her eyes, smiling drily. “You’ll cheer up when I tell you your girlfriend is finally hauling her grandma-driving self down the driveway right now to see you here.”
“Allison?” She perked up, pushing past her towards the courtyard. “I thought she was working until eight!”
I sighed. “All but quit her job to come see you. Lovesick puppy. I’ll take over cooking while Ryan takes a shower and you go be sickly sweet with Allison.”
The house was filled with chatter and laughter in no time—although I made sure to switch away from Stella’s ghastly bubblegum pop and put on some decent music—and I got drinks on for everybody to gather around the living room, spilling out across the back patio as well. The sweet, nostalgic feeling in the air was drenched with the sensation of summer’s last party , the air outside still warm but not hot as the sun was lower on the horizon than it had been recently at this time, longer sleeves on people’s outfits.
It was a bittersweet feeling, like a party coming to a close when you still wanted to squeeze out just a little bit more fun—it was a bittersweet feeling I was very familiar with, like every summer before, saying goodbye to summer crowds and holing up for the cool quiet of the shoulder season, but it was different this time. This was a party coming to a close when you knew there was something just as exciting happening the next day.
“God, you’re so gone,” Allison snorted, partway into the evening, as I stood by the brick oven on the back patio with the wind in my hair and a drink in my hand, gazing across the patio to where Ryan was laughing about something together with Stella and her friend. I elbowed Allison lightly.
“Just thinking,” I said.
“About how stupidly in love you are?”
About how much I’d been worried a serious relationship would be difficult now that I’d gotten here, that I’d get buyer’s remorse, cold feet, want to go back to my old ways, but how now that I was here, I couldn’t think of anything easier. How sweet it felt that I was building up something real and lasting together with her, and that every day together was part of something we made, not just another fleeting experience that meant nothing in the bigger picture.
About how much I was excited for every single day with this woman.
“Sure,” I said. “We can say that.” When Stella glanced over, I raised my eyebrows, gesturing to Allison, and Stella smiled sweetly, breaking off from the conversation and crossing the patio over to us, where Allison was about to make another glib comment but was instantly gone when Stella slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Hey,” she said, and Allison bit her lip, ducking her head, hiding her flush. How she still got this giddy and shy over the littlest things with Stella… I’d laugh, but I wasn’t any better. “What are you two giggling about?” Stella said, and I made up a lie that worked.
“How it’s so typical of Allison,” I said brightly, “that she’d date my girlfriend’s sister. Always the hanger-on.”
“Shut up,” Allison laughed, but the way she was all butterflies and hearts in her eyes the second Stella was around really made it hard for her to tell me off. Stella grinned, squeezing Allison.
“Ryan always tells me the same thing. Like, seriously, I date a girl so you have to immediately go dating the girl closest to her? You can’t be a little more original? I guess it makes sense we all match.”
I laughed. “I mean, Allison’s always telling me she doesn’t know why you’re dating her, either.”
“Allison!” Stella turned on her. “You’ve still been going on about that!?”
Allison put her hands up. “You’re too hot for me! It’s an objective fact!”
“I’ll show you exactly what I think about that,” Stella muttered, grabbing Allison by the wrist and just about physically dragging her away. A bit menacing for taking her girlfriend to a quiet corner to make out with her, but I guess the energy did match Allison’s, after all.
“Do you think,” Mrs. Bell’s voice said from behind me, and I jumped, turning back to where she stood with a glass of pinot noir, swirling it slowly and watching Allison and Stella disappear around the corner, “that they’re good together?”
Her voice was small, wistful. I guess it couldn’t be helped—having both her daughters swept off in romance at the same time was bound to leave her worrying just a little for them. I smiled warmly. “Stella is the first thing on Allison’s mind in the morning and the last thing on her mind at night. She’s twice the person she is otherwise, trying to be good enough for how much she adores your daughter. Allison’s a little bit messy around the edges, but damn, she’s just… I don’t want to make myself sound old, but really, she’s just a good kid. And genuinely loves Stella. I wouldn’t trust anyone more with her.”
She smiled softly at me, corners of her eyes crinkling. “You do have a way with words. Yes…” She let her gaze drift off in the direction Stella had disappeared around the corner. “Yes. Stella really is happy. I just…” She laughed. “Did they have to both find girls so far away?”
“Hey, Allison’s still finding out where she wants to be. Her parents never really did come around properly about her being a lesbian…”
Her face fell, but she softened when her husband came up next to her, a hand on her back. “It hasn’t been… tidy. In our family, either. Oh, I’m sure you know that,” she said, her voice thick. “Poor Ryan’s been caught in the crossfire. Bless her, she’s much stronger than I am. I don’t know how she’s managed to carry herself like none of it bothers her. If I got the kind of treatment from my family that she’s been getting from her grandparents, her aunt… I wouldn’t be able to just brush it off like she does.”
Mr. Bell made a low noise in his throat. “Well,” he said, a little bounce in his voice, “you know how young love is. She’s so happy with Brooklyn.”
Mrs. Bell nodded, beaming at me, and I suddenly felt awkwardly on the spot. “Brooklyn’s the person I trust Ryan with the most, too,” she said softly. “I still remember you laying into me in the café just up the road from here.”
“Ah, well. I might have been less confident if I’d realized Ryan actually wanted to stick around with me and you were going to be a major part of my life.”
She tutted. “Well, then I suppose I’m glad for your crisis, because I did need to hear it. I’d really thought I was done navigating family dynamics for a minute there. Maybe I should also move away to an island paradise, escape from it all…”
Mr. Bell laughed quietly, giving her a light squeeze. “Ryan’s an adult now, you know. We can’t go inviting ourselves to follow her around all over the place.”
“Oh, Mark. Do I look like I want to hear the voice of reason right now?”
Ryan’s voice cut through the conversation, coming up to us with a soft glow in her eyes, the same kind she always got when she looked at me. And only at me. I’d never get used to seeing that—to charting out the ways Ryan looked at me. Guess Allison was right—I really was down bad for this girl.
“Mom, Dad, are you bugging Brooklyn for more pizza?”
“Not this time,” Mrs. Bell said brightly, “but trust me that it’s not far from my mind. I guess I’m not surprised a woman won you over with a handmade brick oven. You know, your father built a smoker when we were in college, and I was just as gone.”
Well, just like that, judging by the knowing glint in his eyes, I think I won over the dad, too—that sidelong look of yeah, we know how to get a girl. It wasn’t like I didn’t feel good about myself for impressing Ryan with my cooking.
Ryan wrinkled her nose. “Mom, trust me that I appreciate the understanding, but I do not want to mentally compare Brooklyn with my father.”
Mrs. Bell laughed brightly, taking a step back. “Well, you two lovebirds get along now. We’ve been in between you two all evening. Brooklyn’s taken care of us here, but we can entertain ourselves.”
As much as I’d enjoyed the party and the evening, I was all too ready to take them up on it, sneaking a kiss on Ryan’s cheek and leading her with drinks in hand up to the terrace, sitting at the edge where it felt like everyone else was miles away and we could see over everything to where the ocean was a deep cobalt blue in the low sunset glow. She crashed onto the seat next to me as soon as we were there, and she lay her head on my shoulder, tilting her knees to nestle up into my side.
“It’s so nice to be back… I’m exhausted,” she said, just a touch of a pout in her voice. “And I missed you.”
I kissed the top of her head, snaking an arm behind her back and pulling her into my side. “I missed you, too,” I said. “I swear I do love bartending, but I’ve had zero patience for entitled rich tourists while I’m there at work thinking about how much I wish you were sitting on the other side of the bar…”
She stifled a cute little laugh. “I’m glad you work less in the shoulder seasons. I’m going to be very clingy and want lots of attention.”
“All yours, babe. You’ve got some big writeups to do, and I’m going to spoil you while you finish them.”
“I do. But first I want to wake up slow tomorrow with you and dip down to the beach together, swim in the ocean until we forget what time it is, and kiss slowly on the sand. I want to go back to that café with the arepas, and I want to gaze into your eyes across the table over food, and then I want to do a little bit of my writing work while I’m overflowing with inspiration from being around you, and then after that, I want to have dinner and drinks by sunset with you right up here on this terrace and make love to you until neither of us can move another inch.” She paused. “I was thinking about that very precise sequence of events the entire time I was gone.”
“Did I, perhaps, get in the way of your work while you were out?”
“I am a professional, Brooklyn Sterling. So… only a little bit.”
“A little bit.”
“Maybe a medium bit.”
I laughed, a sweet and warm feeling bubbling in my chest as I tilted my head to kiss her, soft and sweet and perfect. Not rushing anywhere, just enjoying this moment like I was going to enjoy a million more in the future. “I should apologize,” I said brightly. “But I won’t. Not when that sounds like a perfect way to spend tomorrow.”
“And then maybe… maybe the next tomorrow, too?”
“Mm. We’ll have to mix it up a little bit. Variety is the spice of life.”
“I’m sure you have what it takes to come up with some very spicy variety,” she laughed, closing her eyes and sinking into me, and softly, just barely there, she said those quiet words that I’d spent a long time convinced would make me sick if someone said them to me, but all I thought was how right it felt when she said, “I love you, you know…”
I squeezed her tighter into my side. “Oh, I believe it,” I said, and she snorted.
“Okay, maybe try not to make it sound corny.”
“I love you, too, Ryan.”
She was quiet for a long time, breathing softly, gently, before she said, in the smallest, sweetest voice, “Oh, I believe it.”
“I mean, rightfully so.” I kissed her forehead. “You must be exhausted. And it sounds like we’ve got a big day tomorrow. You think we should get to bed?”
She laughed, tilting her head up to catch me in another kiss, eyes sparkling in the low glow of the lights around the terrace. “Yeah,” she said. “Tomorrow’s going to be good.”
Oh, I believed it.