Epilogue
Paige
D ear Rhodes,
I know I haven’t written in this journal in a while—okay, six months. But a lot has happened since then, and I need to tell someone, but it can’t be the real you because you already know all of it. Most of it.
So, I guess in my weird way, I just need to write everything down to be remembered for all eternity. And because you're currently at pickleball practice, and I'm bored.
First, thank you for temporarily moving to Thirst Trapp Farms for a month with Cleo and me almost immediately after the road trip last summer. And then the fall and winter it turned into. This job has been everything I hoped it would be.
I get to hug cows while also expanding the assorted activities available to guests and the local community. Snowshoeing around the property, towel origami classes, Sip and Sew lessons for beginner sewers, and my personal favorite…book club!
Second, thank you for humoring me with short trips in Vincent VanGo. My favorite times are when we drive him to a remote part of the farm, throw him in park, and crawl up to the roof with a mattress pad and blankets to watch the many flickering stars in the sky. I still get excited about the shooting ones, wishing upon them like I believe in their magic. And maybe I do since I always wish for the same thing: love.
The magic is working.
The Itch hasn't bothered me in months, and I think it's because I know you aren't going anywhere.
Third, thank you again for entertaining my family when they visited last month. I know it wasn’t easy when Mom and Dad wouldn’t shut up about the first plane ride they’d taken in over a decade. Or when Constance renamed all of the animals to cuts of meat—Drumstick (a.k.a. Amelia Egghart) has truly never been the same since—but you handled it all like you usually do with a smile and easy demeanor that is hard not to love.
Fourth, I think we should continue doing Sexy Saturdays. That is all.
Fifth and lastly, I would like the record to state that I did not, in fact, eat your leftovers like you claimed I did. It was Cleo. And yes, I know what you’re thinking: how could a cat eat pad thai with her paws ?
Great question.
It’s because it was actually me like you thought. But for good reason! You’re just going to have to wait to find out why later tonight when you get home from your cute little work trip doing your cute little videos. I packaged it up with a pretty bow and promise I wiped any residual pee off the stick.
We didn’t plan it this way. We actually didn’t plan this at all. But here we are, adding to the love we have. The kind that only fades a smidge when you leave your wet towel on the ground but is still stronger than I ever thought possible.
I don’t want to do this with anyone else but you.
Annnnnnnd now I’m crying.
Damn these hormones! I blame you and Sexy Saturdays.
Yours Forever,
Paige