Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER…
Joel
I swing the ax above my head and let it fall.
The log splits with a satisfying thunk. The temperature’s falling below freezing.
My breath is white on the wind but the work warms my muscles until I’m sweating and tempted to strip down to my shirt sleeves.
I’m almost done, and it’s a good thing—the clouds overhead tell me a blizzard’s on its way.
I hustle to chop the rest of the wood, setting aside the best pieces to sell online.
Turns out woodworkers will pay premium dollar for New Hampshire hardwood.
I spent the last year building up my online shop, finding the best wood and planting trees to replace what I've cut down. Between that and the jobs I get fixing cars, it's been a good year. I made enough to add a room to the cabin, and that’s a good thing too, because I’m not the only one living here now, and we need the room.
The snow’s starting to fall when the door swings open and Lainey steps out. The sight of her makes me catch my breath, the same as it always does. The same as it did years ago, when I came back to town and she greeted me with a shy, soft voice in the grocery store.
Her cheeks curve, pink where the cold nips them, and her smile lights up the gray day.
“There he is,” she coos to the little bundle in her arms. “There’s Daddy.”
“It's too cold to be outside.”
“He wants you,” she says, tipping the bundle to show me my son’s tiny face. He has blue eyes the exact color of mine, but his round cheeks and angelic smile are all Lainey.
“Go inside. I’m almost done.”
She obeys. The door shuts but I can still hear her talking to Joel Junior, singing a lullaby off-key.
I savor the sound. It’s been one year since she trekked up here to give me the most precious gift anyone’s ever given me.
A gift that keeps giving. Our son was born in September.
We got married in June, after Lainey graduated.
She got a part-time job in a nearby college town, and helps me with the store on the side.
Lainey thinks there’s magic on Christmas, but I have another theory. There’s nothing supernatural about my wife’s determination and a car that won't stop breaking down. It’s Lainey.
She’s the magic.
Thank you, I mouth to the frozen air. To whoever's listening: God or angels or just the snow-filled clouds in the sky. Thank you.
I set my ax under a tarp and head back inside to my home and my wife and my son. My angel, my redemption.
My miracle.
The End