Epilogue
JOAN
September
The cabin smelled like popcorn and butter, and there’d never been so many people crammed in the living room.
My family was spread out around the large sectional we’d bought a few months ago.
Brady and Mac were sharing a box of Milk Duds.
My parents sat opposite them with their own snacks in hand.
Mercer was in the rocking chair, two-week-old Charlie asleep on his chest. Candace slouched next to me on the couch, but I knew she’d be unconscious as soon as we dimmed the lights.
Ian placed the final bowl of popcorn on my lap, and I hit play on the remote.
Della Stewart had sent over an early cut of the film. It was missing the score and a few digital effects that would be added later, but she’d wanted our family to see it first, to see the land and what she’d created. And she’d wanted us to be able to experience it with Ian.
He was leaving in two days for Ireland, and I was mostly okay about it.
The orchard was busy. It was apple season, but we were also experiencing the Dorian Masters effect.
Both Judd’s and Grandpappy’s had seen a huge uptick in visitors.
The Kirby Falls Business Owners’ Association had reported an increase in tourism since Ian’s interview had aired all those months ago.
So, I had plenty to keep me busy while Ian filmed his next project. Plus, it was only three months. We could manage.
Sophia would be around to help with George. We’d call and video chat. And Ian would be back in time for Christmas. We could do this.
But we’d gathered tonight as a little send-off and to watch the film that had brought Ian and George into our lives.
The film opened with a man and a woman hiking in the woods. The brother-and-sister duo bantered a bit, their accents subtle and not overly done. Eventually, the pair stumbled upon a body near a creek bed. It was just shy of gruesome, but in a way that felt realistic.
At one point, Ian’s character shoved his sleeves back to remove something he’d found beneath the body. When he did so, I noticed a dark circle around his wrist. It looked kind of like a bracelet, but familiar and worn. Sort of like a . . .
Ten minutes later, Ian got slapped in handcuffs on the screen, and I could no longer focus on the story or the beautiful way Della had framed the landscape.
The metal cuffs circled his arm and, again, the black band came into view.
I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward to see better.
The item encircling Ian’s wrist showed up three more times in the next half hour, and by the fourth sighting, I was already reaching for the remote.
I thought I’d seen—
“What’s wrong?” Ian asked as I rewound the film.
“There,” I said, pausing the image. But I’d gone a bit too far.
“Joanie, what are you doing?” Brady called.
“Trying to see something,” I replied absently.
I alternately tapped play and then pause until I got the correct frame on the screen. As the image froze, I could just barely make out what I thought I’d noticed, and confusion washed over me.
“Joan, come on,” Brady complained. “We want to watch.”
Ignoring my brother, I hit play and reached for Ian’s wrist.
I unbuttoned the cuffs of his flannel on one arm and then the other. And there, around his left wrist, was what I’d seen on the screen. A black band. A hair tie stretched to within an inch of its life, as a bit of white elastic peeked through.
My hair band.
I’d dropped it during one of our earliest runs, after I’d discovered Ian was actually Dorian Masters. I’d been angry and irritated, and when he’d retrieved the elastic and held it out to me, I’d ignored him.
That had been ten months ago.
“Ian,” I wheezed, gripping his wrist. “Is this mine?”
He grinned at me like I was being weird.
I felt weird. I felt like my heart was turning inside out.
“Do you finally want it back?” he offered, removing the hair tie and holding it out to me.
“Have you—have you been wearing it this whole time?”
Only then did a wash of color flood his cheeks. I could see the blush on his skin even in the dim glow from the television. “I, uh, guess I have.”
“Why haven’t I noticed it before?” I asked, incredulous.
Ian’s fingers nervously twisted the elastic as he spoke, “Sometimes I keep it in my pocket. But I always have it with me. I liked having something of yours, even if it was small and insignificant. Is that—I mean, are you upset?”
“No, I’m—I’m—”
All of a sudden, I was aware of Candace snoring softly beside me and my mother gazing at me in concern. Mac was eating popcorn and watching Ian and me, not the movie on the screen.
Overcome, I stood on shaky legs and made my way outside, dropping heavily onto the top step of the back porch. I didn’t know why this was hitting me so hard. Ian’s love and devotion weren’t a secret. We were making a life together. I knew he was it for me.
But there was just something about seeing something of mine, from before—before we’d been anything to one another. A piece of me I didn’t even know I’d lost, that he’d kept this whole time, as a memento.
Less than a minute later, the back door opened and closed quietly. I knew it was Ian. I recognized the sound of his bare feet on the wooden planks. For some reason, that knowledge made me want to cry.
“I’m not upset,” I said before he’d settled fully beside me. “I just had to leave. My feelings were too big for that couch, that room, and all those people in it.”
I reached for Ian’s hand and laced our fingers together. “It’s just . . . all this time?”
He smiled, shy and a little embarrassed, then confirmed, “All this time.”
“I was so mean to you,” I groaned, burying my face in our joined hands.
Ian laughed. “You weren’t . . . mean. You had high expectations. And you weren’t impressed by me.” He tried to steal his hand back and peel the fingers away from my eyes. Laughing harder now, he said, “I had to grow on you. It’s not your fault I fell in love with you right off the bat.”
“Oh my God, Ian. I feel like such an asshole.” Mortification threatened to swallow me whole. I’d given this man such a hard time. I’d questioned his motives again and again. When all along—
“Stop,” he coaxed, both dimples on full display.
“Remember when I told you, I’d rather have one person who really knew me than have all the fans in the world just assume they did.
All I’ve ever wanted was a love that developed over time, something meaningful, something true.
And that’s what we have. You grew to love me, and I know it’s real. I know I earned it.”
To him, it was that simple. And I guess it was. He didn’t want the easy way. He never had.
“I’m going to miss you so much when you leave,” I confessed, my voice just loud enough to get the words out. Any louder and my throat would have closed up.
“I know,” he said, smiling gently. “I’m going to miss you, too.
But I’m coming back. I’ll keep coming back.
And, if it works out with the farm and your family, you can come with me the next time I go.
And then one day, I won’t leave anymore.
You’ll be my wife, and I’ll be your husband.
Georgie will still be ours, and we’ll be home. For good.”
I nodded. The tears that had been swimming in my eyes since I’d stepped outside finally fell. Ian leaned in, kissing them away.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He grinned. “I love you, too. Now, can we go back inside and watch my movie so you can tell me how great it is and what a gifted actor I am?”
I laughed. “Okay. Okay. Sorry.”
Ian stood and held out a hand to help me up.
My eyes fell briefly to the elastic hair tie on Ian’s wrist. Warmth filled me up, the knowledge that I’d found something special. A love I’d almost missed, out of sheer stubbornness.
Grateful, I slipped my hand into Ian’s waiting one, then yelped happily as he tugged me into his arms.
I’d spend the rest of my life working to let Ian know he’d found a family in me. I’d make sure he never questioned where he belonged. And if he ever lost his way, all he needed to do was follow the path home.