Epilogue #2
I know most people don’t have my insane meticulousness, but this is the one party we are throwing for our best friend. I want to tell them to suck it up, but I smile instead.
“We’re so close, y’all. This looks amazing. Seriously. Just a few more touches and we can call it. Deal?”
Vic, our most dramatic male friend in our group, groans from the bar as he swipes his hat on the bar. “Why does that sound exactly like what you said an hour ago? Is this some Severance nightmare?”
Charity laughs. “God, I’m obsessed with that show. The goats still haunt me.”
"Right? And Milchick? I swear he's way more involved than we know."
“I’m counting down the days to the next drop,” Charity says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Obsessed doesn’t even cover it.”
“What are y’all talking about?” I eye the runner on the table, half interested.
“ Severance, Apple TV+,” Sophie jumps in. “Elle, don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”
“Who has time for TV? Y’all need to get a life,” I chortle. “After you fix that light strand, of course. Chop-chop.”
Vic grunts. “She wouldn’t like it anyway. Too much mystery. Not enough dolphins. ”
Sophie raises that one eyebrow she’s so good at doing as she nudges one of the big planters. “I don’t know. I think Elle might love it. Endless rules. Color-coded departments. You’d have that place running smoother than Lumon’s creepy wellness floor.”
I act like I’m considering what they are talking about, but my eyes are already moving. I can’t help it.
“Vic, the lights. See that strand by the fence? It’s sagging at the end. Can you pull it tighter? It’ll balance the whole thing.”
He mutters something under his breath, but he’s already reaching for the ladder. Such a good boy!
“Charity, love of my life and table-setter extraordinaire…”
“You know just how to butter me up.”
“The runner’s bunched on the buffet corner. It’ll show in pictures.”
Charity groans but smooths it out. “You’re lucky I love you. And fine, you're right. Barely.”
“I do appreciate it.”
“And Sophie, the pot by the far corner. You did amazing with those, by the way. They frame the patio like they were created for this exact purpose.”
“My specialty!”
“The one with the ivy needs to shift it toward the post just a bit, right? Or am I imagining things? From here, it doesn’t look like it’s lined up with the other one.”
Sophie gives me a long look, but there’s a smile at the edge of it. “You missed your calling. You should’ve been an event planner.”
I shrug, wiping my hands on my shorts. “I’d work myself into an early grave if I did this for a living. It’s never done. Never perfect enough. I need order I can actually control. ”
Sophie drags a chair across the patio, loud on the herringbone brick. “Jury’s still out. You may just get yourself that if you don’t chill soon.”
“So melodramatic.”
I nudge the napkin stack on the buffet table into alignment as Charity gives me the side eye. I blow her a kiss.
I scan the setup again. The candles on the mantle aren’t evenly spaced, and the bow on the left side of the mantel is cattywampus. God, how did I miss that? That was my specific job!
Charity dumps a box of tea lights onto the table. “Elle, thank you for being so on this. As much as we complain, we need your attention to detail. The set-up is stunning, and it is going to be the party of the year. You really did make this yard perfect.”
I bite back the urge to grab the ladder right then. The yard looks beautiful. I can fix the mantel in a minute.
“It’s Izzy’s night. It’s got to be?—”
“Magnificent?” Vic blurts as he tightens the light strand, muttering under his breath about slave labor.
“Yes,” I reply, lighting up. “Good word choice, Vic. She’s landed the love of her life. Now we get to celebrate. We should all be so lucky.”
Lucile, always in her Southern maxi dress, even in this weather, appears at the fence. Ice clinks in the full glass pitcher she’s carrying. “Lord, Elle, you’re gonna work yourself to death out here. Y’all need a staff. Brought some fresh iced tea for everyone.”
She sets the pitcher down on the silver-plated coaster on the table. I glance at the pitcher, willing it not to drip condensation onto the white tablecloth. That coaster is beautiful, but it will do nothing to protect it.
“She has a staff,” Vic quips. “We are the staff.”
Sophie stands from and brushes off her hands into the pot, eyeing me like she’s debating knocking me flat. “Elle. Have some tea.” She grabs a red Solo cup and fills it from the pitcher. “You’re overheating.”
She hands me the cup.
I take a sip, mostly to appease her. The sweet, sharp taste hits my tongue, cold for half a second before the heat swallows it up. I set the cup down on the brick ledge, already reaching to straighten a chair leg that’s shifted on the brick.
Charity laughs. “Remember Izzy’s birthday cake in college? When she tried to bake it herself and nearly set the dorm kitchen on fire?”
Vic snorts. “And Elle made a posterboard with oven temperatures and cook times to hang on the wall in the kitchen after that? It survived two years up there.”
“It was helpful,” I protest, stretching out my legs and finally allowing myself to relax. “We never had any more cooking catastrophes, did we?”
“It did come in handy,” Lucile adds. “And so Elle.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling.
These people. Even when they're roasting me, I can't help but feel the love. We’ve known each other since college, and while we’re all spread out and adulting in our own lives, we’ve stayed close all these years.
Vic fans himself with a paper plate. “If it hadn’t been Fourth of July weekend, we could have found someone to do this. I’m certain of it.”
“That was never the plan, Vic. We were always going to do this.”
Charity taps her chin and looks up, as if she’s thinking hard. “Did Justin say he had a cousin or something that does this? I swear I remember that being floated when we first started planning this engagement party.”
The name catches for a second. Not painful, but it gets me right in the gut. I nod lightly as I imagine how different it might be if he were here. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in letting someone else take all of the credit?. I like it this way.”
“I’m not going to lie. I would have zero problem letting someone else do all of this. But now I have pride in how it looks, so I guess it worked out. Plus, we survived.”
“Agreed. Cheers,” Sophie says as she raises her red cup.
We all follow suit. A job well done.
“Well?” Vic asks with his crooked grin. “Can we stop now, boss?”
I beam proudly at our work. It looks like a picture out of Southern Living .
It is beautiful.
I exhale dramatically. I really think we’re there.
“Yeah. I think we are amazing worker bees.” I sweep around the yard one more time, and can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across my face.
“Y’all killed it. Izzy’s gonna lose her mind when she sees this.”
Charity bumps my shoulder. “We’re pretty good under your rule.”
“Dictatorship,” Vic corrects. “Let’s call it what it is.”
I laugh. “I’ll allow it. We busted our asses, and look what we have to show for it.”
I point toward the little wooden stage Mark and his brothers slapped together at the far end of the yard. “I can’t wait to hear Cat Daddy and the Heartbreakers play tonight.”
Sophie groans. “Oh God, Elle. Please tell me you’ll play the air keytar like you did at our graduation party.”
“My air keytar playing might be behind me, but if they play Bette Davis Eyes, I can’t promise I won’t get a little jiggy. Just saying . ”
Vic smirks. “Noted. 80s cover bands, not tequila, make Elle go wild.”
We all settle onto the low brick ledge that borders the patio, tucked into the shade. The breeze filters through the moss, cooler now, carrying the smell of fresh-cut grass and honeysuckle.
For a minute, everything is still. My body aches in the best way, and for once, my hands stay steady. My shoulders drop. I look at my friends, all of them exhausted, but pleased, too, and I beam. Pride. Real and earned.
I take another sip of tea, close my eyes, and let it wash over me. “Now what are we going to do with ourselves?”
“Nap, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going back to the hotel, cracking the AC as cold as it will go, and lying naked on my bed.”
“Nice visual,” Charity says, swatting him with the rag on her shoulder.
When I open my eyes again, they land on the mantel. The bow is crooked, and the fucking candles are off-center. Shit. I meant to circle back to that.
I push up before I even think about it. “I’ll be right back.”
Sophie groans. “Elle, what are you doing?”
“Just one thing. I can’t leave it like that. It’ll drive me insane all night.”
“Yes, you can. Sit your ass down. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it.”
“I swear. Last thing. Promise.”
“Elle, no.”
Before anyone can argue, I’m already dragging the ladder from where Vic left it, leaning against the fence. The metal scrapes faintly against the brick as I haul it over, setting it in front of the fireplace.
I test the feet on the uneven pavers, adjusting them until they feel steady enough. My hands are slick with sweat again, but I wipe them on my shorts.
“Elle,” Vic warns, watching me. “Let me do it.”
“It’s mine. I’ll be two seconds. Seriously. Go get naked in your hotel room.”
I climb. Sophie and Vic’s voices blur behind me. I lean in, adjusting it ever so slightly.
And then the ladder shifts.
My sneaker scrapes the rung. The metal wobbles where it meets the brick. My stomach flips as the world tilts.
I grab for the mantel. My fingers scrape rough brick, but my hand closes on the vase instead.
It’s cold.
Heavy.
Useless.
My shoulder hits with a thud, and heat blasts through my side. The sting of sweat blinds me for a second, and the air leaves my lungs so fast it’s like I never had any.
Glass shatters. The ladder crashes down on my legs.
I lie there stunned for a moment, then shove the ladder off. My hand slips on something, maybe sweat, or the water from the vase.
I try to push up, but my hand is oddly limp and won’t cooperate.
Then I see it. Blood pooling fast, spreading bright across the patio.
My friends shout as they circle above me. I turn my face away.
“Don't—” I try to wave them off with my other hand. “Just give me a second to?— ”
But the blood keeps coming. The yard sways. My breath won’t come. The red spreads.
And then everything goes black.