Epilogue
Two Years Later
O n a beautiful day in early June, in the tiny riverside town of Little Falls, New York, Aggie watches from the front porch of our cute yellow bungalow while I roll a dolly stacked with boxes up a temporary ramp and past her, gradually unloading the U-Haul that contains all of my belongings, half of Everett’s belongings, and an egregiously large collection of dog toys and accoutrement.
We pulled in half an hour ago, eager to settle into the house we bought together.
It has a fenced yard for Aggie, lots of garden beds for Everett, an on-site washer and dryer for all of us, and no painfully slow elevator to get stuck in, though I suppose that has its drawbacks, too.
After countless applications and interviews, I’m joining a veterinary practice with two Cornell alums who were elated that I was interested in moving to New York’s second-smallest city, and that my partner could do most of his work remotely, making the two-hour drive to Ithaca as needed.
He’s keeping his apartment there, at least until we settle into a routine and he knows how often he’ll need to be in the office.
He told me to wait on unpacking while he picks up lunch—an errand he was weirdly insistent about since we had breakfast in Ithaca less than three hours ago—but I figured I might as well get started.
I pause after the tenth or twelfth load to sit by Aggie and give her floof a good scratch.
She was excited, as always, when we helped her into the station wagon, or as we’ve come to call it, the adventure box, since she never knows where she’s going so it’s always an adventure.
Now, she seems a little despondent, and probably not only because she’s watching for Everett.
“I know it’s a lot of change,” I tell her. “But we’ll have a good life here. We’ll make new friends, and explore new parks, and find a baker who bakes you dog cookies.”
She drops her head into my lap with a heavy sigh.
“I know,” I tell her again. “It’s a lot of change for me, too.”
I take a selfie and text it to the MLA6 group thread that includes everyone from the sixth floor of the Maple Lane Apartments, plus Hannah, who we admitted as an honorary member, even though she stayed in the UK, opting to finish her degree there before entering Cornell’s one-year LL.M.
program for graduates with non-US degrees.
She’ll be here in the fall and I can’t wait to have her closer.
Neither can Khalil, who’s already setting up their new place in a much nicer building and with a guest bedroom Aggie and I will see a lot of in the months to come.
As it turns out, Everett will be the last holdout at the Maple Lane Apartments.
Felicity left to room with her friend shortly before my third year started.
Regina and Tegan moved to New York City last summer when Regina’s latest line of sportswear took off.
Minh Ha got a tenure-track job at Brown that she started last fall.
Everyone has gone their separate ways, as I suppose happens, making me even more grateful that we all intersected when we did, and leaving me determined to hold on in whatever ways I can.
REGINA: #smalltownlife
MINH HA : I’m so happy for all three of you
FELICITY: How’s the closet space?
KHALIL: Can’t wait to visit!
HANNAH: Me first!
KHALIL: Pretty sure we can find a way to share
TEGAN: And you called US The Lovers!
CAMERON: It’s still apt. And broadly applicable
Tegan changes the name of the group thread to All Lovers All the Time.
Regina changes the name to My Girlfriend’s Niche Sense of Humor.
I change the name to My Ridiculous but Amazing Forever Friends.
No one alters it again.
My smile lingers as I pocket my phone and give Aggie another snuggle, both of us watching the road until Everett’s ancient station wagon rounds the corner and pulls up by the curb.
He gets out with a brown paper takeaway bag and wearing a sweater for some reason, even though it’s way too warm for one.
Maybe the sandwich place was overly air-conditioned?
Aggie’s tail thumps away but she waits with me, still not big on stairs.
“How are my girls?” Everett asks as he leans in for a kiss, thoughtfully allowing me the first go at it before Aggie gives him a much more vigorous greeting, sniffing and snuffling away.
“We’re good,” I say. “Though I’m missing my friends a little. I think Aggie is, too. She spent so much time with Pilot and Stoker. We’ll have to find someone new for her to play with.”
“Yeah, um, about that.” Everett sets down the bag and sits beside me with a hand pressed to his chest. “I thought that might be the case, and you’ll be at work full-time soon, and I’ll be going back and forth to Ithaca for a while, and I didn’t want either of you to get lonely, so—”
This is when I notice his sweater is wriggling.
His sweater. Is wriggling.
“Everett? What did you—”
Before I can finish, a scruffy black-and-tan head peeks out over his sweater collar, with a tiny black nose and tiny black-bead eyes, and tiny fold-over ears.
Aggie leans in, all joyful curiosity. I tear up. Everett helps the puppy emerge from his sweater and hands it off so I can press it—or rather, her—to my chest.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on the local shelter since we bought the house,” he says. “The whole litter was listed a week ago. I called and asked if they’d save one for us, preferably female. I figured, if two Goode Girls make me this happy, why not three?”
I shake my head at him, wondering how he does it.
Just when I think I have everything I want or need—a cute vintage home with the man I love in a tiny town I’m excited to call home, a funny and supportive group of friends only a text away, the best dog in the universe as my daily companion, and a new job in my dream career—he finds a way to make things even better.
Oh, what a year we have ahead of us.
I can’t wait to find out what’s in store.