43. Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
SHANNON
The door to my guest bedroom/makeshift office at Tillie’s house flies open, and Tillie rushes into the room.
“Guess what?” She’s out of breath, and her grin is huge. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her this happy. Or this winded.
“Uh... What?”
“No, come on. Guess. It’s only fun if you guess,” Tillie says.
“Okay. Let’s see. We got more new clients?”
“Pffft. That would be exciting, and yes, we did get two more, but that’s old news. We’re getting new clients every day. Oh, that reminds me, we have an interview tomorrow for another part-time accountant. Now, guess again.”
“Ugh. I don’t know what gets you this level of excited, Tills. You?—”
“You saw that contractor with the killer bod when you were at the home improvement store to get the supplies for my work area?” Ruthie asks from the doorway.
She strolls into the room. Today’s outfit—because every day is an adventure with Ruthie working here—is tame. She’s sporting a velour, lilac purple tracksuit and wearing tennis shoes that light up when she walks. Where the woman finds her shoes, I’ll never know.
Yep, we stole Ruthie from Stinson’s. I don’t feel bad about it at all.
Tillie’s eyes widen, and her jaw drops. She stares at Ruthie.
“How do you know that? What are you, a witch?” Tillie is incredulous.
I chuckle. It is pretty amazing how much knowledge Ruthie carries around in that brain of hers regarding everyone’s lives.
Ruthie looks at her smugly and shrugs. “I have my ways. Plus, if you didn’t want people to notice, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten into an argument in the front of the store where everyone could see.”
Tillie twists her mouth. “Well, maybe he shouldn’t have tried to tell me I was buying the wrong kind of light for your work area, and I wouldn’t have argued with him.”
“Uh huh,” Ruthie says, planting herself in a seat. She’s clearly planning on staying a while. “It’s more likely that the sexual tension between you two is so sizzling you?—”
“Ew, Ruthie. Stop.” Tillie plops herself on the floor and leans against a wall. Why the woman prefers the floor when I have perfectly good chairs in here is beyond me.
“Okay, okay. Let’s see what news Tillie has.” Tillie and Ruthie pretty much go back and forth like this all day. If I don’t stop it, we’ll not get any work done.
“Whatever. So, back to my news. Do you two remember how we signed a six-month lease for the house over on Cherry Valley?”
“Uh yeah...” She loves to draw these things out. I smile at her.
“And do you remember that it was going up for sale eventually?” Tillie is buzzing with eagerness.
“Yes.”
“It’s happened. It went on the market today. Let’s meet this afternoon so we can decide what kind of offer we want to put in. I can have the realtor contact the seller with it tonight.”
“Oh, wow. It’s happening.” I set the pen I’ve been twirling on my desk and look back and forth between Tillie and Ruthie. “We’re going to have our own place.”
“We will.” Tillie’s smile couldn’t be bigger. “To hell with anyone who doesn’t believe we can do it.”
I care about this... a lot. But this has been Tillie’s dream for quite a while. As I’ve become closer with her over these last months, I’ve become more and more convinced that, despite the strength and competence that drips off my friend, someone made her question whether she could do this. Someone made her question her dream.
I’m kind of an expert in dreams nowadays. I happen to know that dreams are easier to make come true when you have support and share them with someone—like Troy and I now do. So, I’m going to do everything in my power to help make this dream we both have come to fruition.
Two months after Troy’s father died, he received a sizable inheritance from Doug’s estate. Doug’s partner, Annette, insisted that Troy accept it, adamant Doug wanted Troy to have it. Another letter came with it. A letter that told Troy even though nothing could make up for their lost time together, Doug had always thought of him and wanted Troy to have something from the sale of Doug’s lucrative business after he died. So, Troy agreed.
Of the one hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars Troy received, he paid off the balance on our mortgage, buffered up our emergency fund, and still had forty-three thousand left. Troy set aside a significant chunk of that so I could pay half and go into business with Tillie. I guess it’s go time.
As if thinking of him conjured him up, a knock on my open office door pulls me from my thoughts and disrupts Tillie and Ruthie’s back-and-forth banter they had been having while I was distracted. My hot husband is standing in the doorway, a sleepy-eyed Chase in one arm and carrying a large bag in the other.
“Do any of my favorite ladies have time for lunch with us?”
Ruthie responds immediately, rising from her seat and walking over to him. “Hey, hot stuff. Looking good today.” She reaches for Chase, who’s already got both arms stretched out to her. “And how’s my favorite boy today?”
Chase easily gives up Troy so Ruthie can hold him. She’s become his favorite person.
“Ruffie,” my baby boy coos. His face becomes peaceful as he lays his head on her shoulders.
“Be careful, Ruthie. He’s super heavy.” My warning is ignored as Ruthie waves me off with her hand and turns all her attention to cuddling my now four-year-old.
Troy makes his way over to me and kisses me. I’ve missed him today, and, for a second, we forget we’re not alone.
“Uh, excuse me. No making out in the office,” Tillie teases. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got for lunch.”
Troy chuckles against my lips and pulls back. Tillie scrambles off the floor, and minutes later, Chase is napping—yes, he naps for Ruthie—on Tillie’s couch, and we four adults indulge in a delicious lunch of pizza and salads from Enzo’s. It’s now one of Tillie’s favorite pizza places, and Troy has quickly learned bringing it for lunch is a surefire way to keep my best friend happy.
After the four adults eat, Ruthie agrees to keep an eye on Chase as Troy and I go outside and sit on Tillie’s back porch bench. I nestle into his side and rest my head on his shoulder as his strong arm wraps around mine.
Our life is so different than it was a year ago. Troy hardly ever picks up extra shifts now, so we have him with us at home more. I send up a silent thanks to Doug for the gift he left Troy. It turned out not to be only the money but what the money did for Troy. It put us in a place financially to ease the persistent weight Troy felt about being secure that he could always take care of his family.
Marriage is hard, and ours was in big trouble at this time last year. Now, though, it’s stronger than it ever was. Our children are growing, happy, and healthy. I’m living the dream version of what I want for our marriage and our children. Our dream may seem lackluster to some, but for Troy and me, it’s perfect.
“Hey, chiclet?”
“Huh?” I ask. Not lifting my head from its resting spot on him.
“You know we still have several thousand dollars left from my dad. I thought we could plan a nice vacation for our family and use it for that.”
“That would be wonderful. It’s been forever since we took a trip all together.”
“Yeah, too long. So, what do you say? Do you want to take a few minutes and dream with me?”
I lift my head and place a hand over his unshaven jaw.
“I want to take the rest of my life and dream with you, Troy.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s dream big...”
* * *
Thank you so much for reading Dream with Me .