Epilogue
The Happily Ever After (HEA)—a core tenet of the romance genre. The reader can be assured that no matter how difficult the journey is, the protagonists end up together.
Everything is pink.
The balloons that are fashioned in an arc over the pool, the wild, flowery scene projected onto the dive-in movie screen, the plastic flamingos placed around the lawn, and my dress.
When Nathan and I decided to get married, we knew it had to be here.
When, after reading his very first romance novel (not mine) and weeping like a child, Albert offered to marry us, I knew it had to be him.
Though, when he’d told us he was an officiant, I’d said, “You’re never beating those on-the-run-from-the-law allegations, Albert.”
Everything is pink, and more importantly, everyone is here.
Rancho Encanto is blooming. The apartments have been rebuilt, better than they were before. Businesses have been reconstructed, and the new elementary school, with its glorious library donated by Nathan’s publisher, is amazing.
My town has healed, and I’m in love.
Elise is my maid of honor, her own engagement ring sparkling on her finger.
An old friend of Nathan’s came from Washington. His agent is here, which is hilarious. He’s very New York in this overly bright setting.
I like him, but I’m happy with the woman I found to represent me, and even happier with the book deal she got me. If the book, about a woman starting over and finding everything she ever needed, is a little autobiographical, I’m not sorry.
Emma is my flower girl, and as pink as everything else.
Then there are my ladies. Gladys, Ruth, Lydia, Wilma, and my dear Alice. All in frothy pink dresses, with electric-pink lipstick.
“Amelia, if you need to talk before your wedding night, we’re here for you,” Wilma says, rubbing my hand.
I look up at Alice, too stunned to speak.
Alice laughs. “Haven’t you read her books yet, Wilma? I think she could teach you a few new tricks.”
“Oh, darlin’, I invented most of those tricks,” Wilma says, winking.
When it’s time for me to walk down the aisle, Wilma, Lydia, and Ruth take the train of my dress, and Gladys takes one arm, while Alice takes the other.
They walk me down the aisle toward Nathan, into the very brightest world.
We say our vows. I know he’s done this before, but he told me last night it feels like he hasn’t. Because these are new promises, from him to me. That means they’re brand new.
We promise each other our lives, our hopes. Our dreams.
When we kiss, a raucous cheer, led by Alice, goes up from the crowd.
Then we move all the chairs so we can dance.
As Nathan leads me to the dance floor, Gladys, Lydia, Wilma, Ruth, and Alice stop us. They’re all beaming.
“Beautiful,” Lydia says.
Gladys touches Nathan’s arm. His biceps, I’m pretty sure. “It’s a very nice suit,” she says. “Men should wear tuxedos more.”
“I think they’re pretty firmly for special occasions,” I say.
“If they wanted an occasion to delight me, I’d find that special,” she says.
Nathan looks at me, and I smile and nod just slightly.
“Do you want to dance, Gladys?” he asks.
“Oh, no! Your first dance has to be with your wife.” She’s so happy she’s glowing, though. “After that, come find me on the dance floor.”
Nathan takes me to the middle of the grass and spins me around, drawing me in close.
“Did you want a kiss? Or were you just looking for a power strip?”
“Definitely the power strip,” he says.
But he kisses me until I’m dizzy.
When we part, I realize all my ladies, and everyone else, have joined us on the grass, dancing right along with us.
I wrap my arms around Nathan’s neck and sway in time to the music.
“I know how I would write this,” I whisper against his mouth.
“How?”
“Just like this.”