Epilogue
Valentine’s Day, Next Year.
GRADY
It’s barely 5 a.m., still dark, and an early-morning chill beckons me back to sleep. I roll to my side with a bothered sigh—Marina’s not here. As scheduled, my alarm sounds as I rise from our bed and flip on the bedside lamp. I intended to get up before her. But a late emergency call kept me out, and she’s been relentlessly busy with work lately.
We’ve shared our home for nine months. We’ve brilliantly navigated the major holidays, her mom’s first (and so far only) semi-episode, Tilly’s flu (which she generously shared with the rest of the family), a break-in at the G I’m the cherished bride. Fussed over. Loved.
Music plays. Wade walks me down the aisle behind Tilly, our flower girl. Christie acts as our officiant. Mack is Grady’s best man, and Marigold stands beside me as my maid of honor. Surrounded by our big, beautiful family, I meet the man who changed my story forever on the lake’s edge, ready to pledge my love to him officially .
With watering eyes, Wade kisses my cheek before moving aside for Grady. He smiles, and I giggle. I can’t help it, especially as he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me close.
His forehead drifts against mine. “My beautiful Marina.”
“My handsome Grady.”
“Thanks for meeting me here.”
I smile sheepishly. “You know I’ll meet you anywhere. Thanks for making it easy.”
His brow kinks. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” The words escape in a breathless moan, nearly making me tear up, especially at his worried expression when asking the question. “It’s truly perfect.”
Grady’s smile widens, melting my heart into gooey bits at how in love with him I am. Whenever I think, “Geez, Marnie, in love much?” my heart answers by falling even more, as if love is this infinitely expanding universe that I’ll never stop falling into.
“Shall we begin?” Christie chimes in softly, looking somewhat nervous but sweetly official in his 1950s veiled hat and elegant kimono.
“Okay?” Grady asks me.
“Okay.”
We face Christie but keep our arms wrapped around each other. Christie smiles and relaxes into his sweet words about cherishing love and each other and being grateful for every second. I lean my head on Grady’s shoulder, and he kisses my forehead.
A small wooden box holds our rings. He shows me both together, wedged into their velvet casing. His is a simple gold band, thick and gently engraved with intertwining leaves, reminding me of the trees around the swamp. Mine is more delicate, rose and yellow gold, interlaced with leaves and gems—one main diamond, many smaller ones, and the rest multicolored.
“Ruby for your hair,” he says as he slips it on my finger. “Sapphire for your eyes. Emerald for luck.”
I laugh. “It matches my dress.”
“I knew it belonged to you the second I saw it,” he tells me.
I smile, sliding his ring onto his finger. “Strong and dependable, just like you. I love you, Tripp Grady Tripp.”
He laughs. “I love you, Mrs. Marina Tripp.”
“Mrs. Strange-Tripp,” I correct with a shrug. “I’m embracing the combo. It’s been a strange trip, after all.”
We kiss, gentle and sweet at first, but it turns into more when he lifts me, crushing me against him and laughing as he swings me around. Our family laughs with us.
Our reception lasts hours with dancing, eating, and, yes, even game-playing. Gorgeous bursts of happiness follow the main one.
Grady and Luke doing The Thing with Christie as honorary drummer (who knew?).
Marigold confessing that she hopes Peter asks her to marry him soon.
The late arrival of Marty Tripp—Grady’s globe-trotting-for-the-good-of-mankind younger brother.
Lena, Ben, Ruthie, and her friend Adam, arriving from Saddletree Farm and Bakery Café with the most decadent dream cake ever—shaped like a pirate ship, of course.
Mom, telling me that Wade asked her on a date, and she wanted my blessing before saying yes.
Gil, hitting it off very well with Ivy.
And finally, a breakthrough.
“They say things happen in threes,” Elena says, casually motioning toward Tamsyn and Willow before giving me and Grady a not-so-subtle wink.
Carmela chuckles. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful for the cousins to be in the same class at school?”
“A triple baby shower,” Tamsyn coos, rubbing her slightly extended belly.
“Hell, yes,” Colin chimes in. “One big party instead of three sounds great to me.”
“Enough with the baby pressure,” Mom says, eyes cutting in my direction. “It’s their wedding day.”
“Amen to that!” Mack says.
“Not everyone wants to jump on the baby bandwagon, anyway,” Mom says awkwardly.
Elena and Carmela look bothered before Elena says, “Better sooner than later. Marnie’s young, but Grady’s no spring chicken.”
Carmela says, “Can’t help the baby talk. It’s in the air.”
“It is, but not for me.” The words slip out nicely, but suddenly. I glance at Grady uneasily as all eyes fall on me. His sexy side smile encourages me that it’s okay. “Grady and I have decided not to have children.”
“What?” Carmela asks over Elena, who says nearly the same thing.
Smiling, always smiling, I take in my large, beautiful family, knowing it’s time. “I’m unable, but even if I could, we wouldn’t. We love it for the rest of you, but it’s not for us. We’re completely happy, exactly as we are.”
“And being the coolest aunt and uncle your kids have, no offense to the rest of you,” Grady laughs.
“Here, here!” Luke cheers, holding up his glass, and the rest join in. The party resumes with barely a ripple and a future that feels even more hopeful.
GRADY
It’s late. The house is finally quiet, the guests gone. Marina and I sit on the back porch, transfixed by the moonlight shimmering across the lake. We’re tired but elated, unable to let the night end. She sits on the railing, her back perched against a column. Her dress drapes over the side like a curtain, and her pale skin glows in the moonlight. I twist my wedding band around my finger, grateful and happy.
“It was the perfect day,” she says, almost dreamily. “Perfect, Grady. Thank you.”
“It’s not over yet.”
She turns toward me, brow cocked and lips curling into a smile. I know that smile—she’s thinking sex. “Just so you know, I’m sleeping in this dress and never taking it off.”
I laugh. “Oh, you’ll take it off. I’ll make sure. But that’s not what I mean.”
Her head tilts, eyeing me in that skeptical way of hers, like right before I make a move in chess. “Whatever do you mean, then, husband?”
Her giggle feels like magic in my chest. I love hearing her call me husband. “I have a gift for you.”
She gapes, her eyes going wide. “This entire day has been a gift for me?—”
“For us.”
“Grady, you’ve done too much already.”
“I could never do enough for you. And it’s not just our wedding day.” I reach behind my chair for the wrapped gift behind it. She takes the floral-wrapped rectangle, eyeing it with giddy curiosity before ripping it open.
She runs her fingers over the leather notebook, smiling as she reads the words, “Travel journal” on the front. “It’s beautiful.”
“Look inside.”
The pages flip in her hands until she lands on the first page, where I’ve handwritten our itinerary for our trip to England.
She gasps, her eyes flipping from me to the extensive list.
“Best practice that terrible British accent of yours, darling,” I tell her as she laughs.
“Righty-oh! I’m chuffed, Grady! We’re going to England?”
“Two weeks of castles, pubs, cozy villages, and riding the Tube. Whatever you want. Oh, and we’re meeting with the game company that’s buying Tickety-Boo .”
“Eep!” She slides off the railing and hops into my lap, kissing me all over my face. “I love it! I can’t wait. When are we leaving?”
“Tuesday. I checked your calendar—it’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I know it will be! I’ll make sure. That gives me two full days to pack and?—”
I kiss her lips to stop her talking. “Tomorrow. Let’s worry about it tomorrow.”
“Not worried. Just excited,” she corrects, nibbling my bottom lip, “but you’re right. You’re welcome to get me out of my dress now.”
“Yes, wife. I’d love to.”