Elsie
Epilogue
Someday came sooner than I would’ve expected.
“Elspeth,” Will chimed in. “Her name is Elspeth.”
“I hate you,” I mouthed.
“What? Just trying to make sure everything is accurate and entirely legally binding.”
“Do you, Elspeth Cameron, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Uh, duh,” I said, because who in the world wouldn’t want to marry this man? But the officiant, I guess, didn’t accept that answer.
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I do.”
“And do you, William Hughes, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Absolutely, I do.”
“Then, by the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You can now—”
Will had me in his arms before the poor guy could even finish his sentence.
“…kiss the bride.”
It was odd, sitting in an old beat-up pickup truck, in a poofy skirted wedding dress. It felt both entirely out of place and entirely fitting, all at the same time.
We were driving home, both of us agreeing that we weren’t in any mood to board a flight after our wedding and could leave for a honeymoon a few days later.
We didn’t mind. We always had plenty of fun, wherever we were, anyway.
Who needed Oregon? We had lakes here. Trees.
But most of all, a home of our own.
Even though we weren’t leaving just yet, we both took time off work. Ava and Theo were running the café starting tomorrow.
Today it was closed on account of everyone in town being invited to the wedding and nearly all of them actually showing up.
I was taking time off from the paper, too, because I had successfully gotten that started up. It was just me, the head article writer, and a team of mostly retired townies who had that same longing for upholding the written word of their youth that I had.
It wasn’t the New York Times or anything, but I was proud of it. And I think a lot of people in town got a lot of joy in reading this little paper we threw together for them.
Plus, we even got a few of the local kids to agree to be delivery boys. All in all, the project had been a major success.
And my manuscript writing? Well, I shelved the one I’d been writing when I first came to town. It felt personal, almost. Like it should only ever be meant for Will and I.
But I started another one soon after, and while it had promise, I was currently in the third round of editing, with another couple dozen rounds in the foreseeable future.
But even that would wait until after the honeymoon.
For now, our time was going to be dedicated to just simply enjoying each other’s company. Which isn’t too different from what we did every day, only now there were no other distractions.
I was both thrilled and terrified to see how sickeningly lovey-dovey we’d find ourselves at the end of the two weeks with my husband
Husband, the word echoed in my mind.
Will Hughes was my husband.
I didn’t know anything could feel so right.
“Wait, I just thought of something,” I said as the truck jostled down the dirt road toward our house. “Now that I’m a Hughes, does that mean I get free coffee for life?”
“Elsie, baby, listen,” he said slowly, as if about to break some terrible news. “You have never, not once in your entire life, ever paid for coffee at my establishment. You do know that, right?”
I sighed happily.
“Ah, my husband owning a coffee shop,” I mused contentedly. “It’s one of the top reasons I married you, you know.”
“I know, Els.” He laughed, pulling us down the road that led toward home. “I know.”