Epilogue 1
Angel--One Month Later
“Relax, Daisy. Keep your arms out, your legs loose, and your abs pointed toward the sky. Inhale deep breaths to fill your lungs with air.”
Water hits my face as Daisy’s arms and legs flail around. “Floating is not swimming, Angel!”
“And crawling isn’t walking, but you have to learn one before the other. Now try again!”
She does as I ask, resting her back on my hand and kicking her legs out.
“I feel ridiculous. I’m an adult who doesn’t know how to swim.
It’s almost as bad as learning to ski as a grownup; arms windmilling on the bunny slopes and trying to avoid the inevitable face plant.
Just when you think you have it, some toddler without any poles whizzes by you at 100 miles per hour and waves. It’s degrading.”
I laugh at the picture she paints in my head. “You’re keeping your promise to God. There’s nothing degrading in that.”
“Yeah, but it was a silly promise made in the heat of the moment. He wouldn’t really hold me accountable, would He?”
“Test the Lord and find out,” I tell her as I slowly move my hand away.
“That’s a hard pass. I just feel like I should have made a different promise; something like ‘I’ll never say a harsh word to my brother again,’ or ‘I’ll eat kale without making a weird face.’”
Now I really laugh and flick her with water. “Neither of those are promises you can keep.”
It takes Daisy only a split second to realize that I’m no longer supporting her in the pool before she panics, sinking like a rock even though the water is only four feet deep.
I help her stand up and then wait patiently for her to finish her sputtering.
“Why did you let go? I could have drowned!”
“Because you were floating for ten seconds all by yourself. You only sank when fear grabbed a hold of you.”
Daisy presses her hand against my chest, and instinctively my arms wrap around her waist. She looks up at me through her long lashes dotted with droplets of water. “Are you trying to tell me that learning to swim is as simple as mind over matter?”
I pull her closer. “You can look at it that way if you want, but I was referring to faith over fear. I’m sure you know the story in Matthew 14—the one where Peter walks on water toward Jesus.
Peter’s focus wasn’t on what he thought was impossible, but on the One whom he trusted to keep him safe.
When did Peter sink and start drowning?”
Taking a small step back and freeing herself from my hold, Daisy says to me, “Peter started sinking when he focused on the storm and became afraid of the environment around him, rather than keeping his eyes on the One who saves.”
I gesture for her to lie backward, placing my palm on her back.
“I’m not Jesus, and you don’t need to walk on water for me, Daisy.
But I promise I won’t ever let you drown.
Not in the water. Not in your sorrows, and not in the things that are out of our control.
Let’s try this again, and this time I won’t move my hand until you tell me to.
Just keep your focus on me and not on what you feel is an insurmountable task. ”
About three minutes pass when she finally says, “I’m ready.”
I slowly move my hand away and take a small step back, my eyes never leaving hers. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be at your side.”
Daisy flails a little while she stands up, but it’s not from panic this time. “Last time you talked like that, I thought you were proposing.”
She squeals in delight when I sweep her off her feet and carry her to the edge of the pool. I reach underneath my towel and grab the small box my mother had given me shortly after we’d returned from Scotland.
My parents had sat me down, and we had a long talk about what I wanted in life and in a wife.
I told them I want a woman who stands up for what she believes in, a woman who loves God first and me second, and a woman who is willing to do the right thing even when no one is looking.
They listened intently, then started laughing when I added that she needs to have silky black hair, chocolate eyes that only look sweet but have a spicy kick, and know how to shoot a Bushmaster BF BA50 Bolt-Action Rifle to hit a soda can at 2,000 yards.
Mom didn’t say a word after that; she just stood up and left the room.
When she returned, it was with my grandmother’s ring.
Her only words to me were, “Angel, keep this with you at all times because the right time comes when you least expect it. You know the family motto: Never get caught without the right equipment.”
I’d always thought it was “Duct tape fixes everything. If not, then you didn’t use enough.” Apparently, family mottos can change based on what life lesson my parents want to teach. With love and gratitude for my parents, I accepted the ring and have kept it with me ever since.
My arms cage Daisy against the side of the pool as I press my lips to hers.
Seven months ago, I kissed her for the first time and was terrified of what I might lose.
Then I wasted six months wishing I could take back the apology that followed it.
This kiss holds no fear, no regret, and no more waiting for the right time.
Because after everything we’ve survived, I don’t want to waste another second without Daisy in my life.
I tenderly kiss her lips one more time before showing her the ring.
“This belonged to my grandmother, Maple, a woman as sweet as her name. She loved my grandpa, Nevil, in a way that defies time and space. He loved her right back, just as fiercely, if not more. They met while he was on shore leave during his time in the Navy, and one dance was all it took for them to know that their souls were made for each other and that their hearts would forever be entwined.”
“It’s as beautiful as their love story,” Daisy says.
I smile at that. “It’s not a fancy ring, and the diamond is tiny because it was all my grandpa could afford at the time. But it’s not the stone in the center that has value. It’s what the ring represents: for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and ’til death do us part.”
Clearing my throat to rid myself of the nervousness inside me, I find the courage to continue.
“Asking you to marry me in a swimming pool was not how I planned this to go, but when I look at you, the rest of the world fades from existence. When I hold you in my arms, there’s no place I’d rather be than sharing that moment with you.
My grandparents fell in love in an instant and were happily married for over 50 years.
While this may be too soon, I don’t want to go another day without you knowing how much I love you or showing you that I’m committed to you in every way. ”
A tear falls from the corner of Daisy’s eye as she beams the brightest smile I’ve ever seen.
She already lights up a room, but this one feels like pure heaven.
“I love you, Daisy. I’ll never apologize for another kiss, though I might apologize for forgetting to take out the trash.
I’ll tell you I love you every day for the rest of our lives if you’ll allow me the honor of becoming your husband. Daisy Zurkowski, will you marry me?”
She holds out her left hand for me to slide the ring into place. “Yes. Angel Conway, I will be honored and blessed to be your wife. I love you more than life itself.”
I take the hand with the ring on it, bringing it to my lips. “And I vow to protect that life, so we can have one together.”
Before I can kiss her again and get carried away, God intervenes by sending Owen to the rescue.
The pad of slapping feet as Owen runs toward us in swim trunks captures our attention, as does his shout of, “Incoming!”
I react to the threat by shielding Daisy’s body from the wall of water that’s about to wash over us.
“Cannonball!”
The next morning, I pick Daisy up from her home outside of Charleston, about a twenty-minute drive from Jaxon’s house.
I’ll be staying at his place until I find an apartment of my own.
Since he’s about to be my brother-in-law soon, I may as well use the time to get to know him and my soon-to-be nephew, Charlie, better.
Once we’re pulling away from the curb, I lace my fingers with hers. “Are you okay?”
She stares at the newspaper in her lap. “I will be once I say goodbye. I wonder if Eva knew her parents had moved from California to Georgia. I mean, she had to know, right? I found them easily enough, and I didn’t even need Owen to help me do it.”
“I’m sure she did. I know it was hard telling the Vidals what happened to their daughter, but they have closure now.”
“A silver lining is better than no lining, even if it’s just a thin thread.”
I kiss the top of her hand to give a measure of comfort. “We don’t have to go to the funeral if you aren’t ready.”
“I know, but I need closure too. I want to close this chapter in my life and start the next one with you.”
It takes an hour to drive to the outskirts of Savannah where Jenna and Alanzo Vidal rebuilt their lives after losing their daughter, Eva, more than two decades ago.
I park and escort Daisy across the cemetery lawn to meet up with the rest of the Southern Knights who have come to pay their respects.
None of us really knew Eva all that well, but we respect the sacrifice she made—the sacrifice Uri had warned us about.
As selfish as it is, I’m grateful it wasn’t Daisy who had to make it.
The funeral service is a simple affair where a minister reads verses before an empty casket is lowered into the ground.
Daisy, along with the rest of us, offers our condolences to Eva’s family.
After everyone leaves, Daisy stands there looking into the hole at the handfuls of dirt and roses.
“Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,” she whispers.
“I’ll give you some time alone,” I tell her.
She grabs my hand and asks me to stay. “Your presence is comforting, and I need comfort right now.”