Epilogue Noelle
Epilogue Noelle
It’s June 20 again, and I’m throwing a birthday dinner for Avery. Just us and a few other friends, including Avery’s new roommate and Veronica. I reserved a table for six at a new restaurant downtown, and we’ve also pooled some money to buy the designer purse that Avery has been coveting.
This is, sadly, a lot more than Joe ever did for her birthday.
After we finish our meals, the waitress brings out the cake that I arranged to be served: a salted caramel chocolate cake from a nearby bakery. On top of the cake is a single candle.
I admit I was a bit nervous as this date approached. It’s not like I truly expect it to trigger another time loop, but still.
June 20 will always have extra significance for me.
Avery squeals with delight when she opens her gift. She thanks us effusively; I’m just glad my friend got a proper celebration in her honor without having to relive the day.
After leaving the restaurant, we all head to the subway together, and as Avery hugs me goodbye, she whispers, “Text me first thing in the morning, okay?”
“I will,” I promise.
Because I’ve never lived this particular June 20 before, I’m unable to predict the downpour that happens as soon as I exit the bus near Cam’s apartment. By the time I arrive at his place, I’m soaked.
“Oh no,” Cam says as he opens the door. “I knew it was supposed to rain, but I didn’t realize it would be that heavy.”
“Neither did I.” And I’m rather miserable about it, but I remind myself that once upon a time, rain on June 20 was a novelty.
Besides, I still get to spend the rest of the evening with Cam. We’ve been together for more than four months now. Well, it depends on how you count things, but that’s what we tell everyone when they ask.
Giving your heart to someone is always a risk. It means being vulnerable—and I certainly felt very vulnerable when I told him the truth about what had happened to me.
But completely avoiding anything that makes you vulnerable? It’s a difficult way to live. In fact, I’d say it makes you vulnerable in a different way, if that makes sense.
“Let’s get you warmed up,” Cam says.
He grabs the extra clothes I keep at his place while I head to the washroom and jump into the shower. Once I’m dressed, I walk to the kitchen, where I discover that he’s made blueberry tea.
I smile as I reach for the mug. “How did you know this was just what I needed?”
“Lucky guess.”
I sigh in contentment as I sip the spiked tea, and we head to the living room. When we sit down on the couch, he puts his arm around me. This casual intimacy is so natural now.
I met his parents last weekend. I felt like I didn’t quite meet their standards, but I think that’s just the way they are, and he assured me it went reasonably well. Tomorrow, he’s going to meet my parents. I also called Judith to tell her what happened, and she laughed. She believes it’s entirely possible her mother had a strong sense that Cam and I were right for each other, just from seeing me briefly. When I meet her one day with the rest of Cam’s family, I’ll pretend I’m meeting her for the first time—we have no plans to tell Cam’s mom and dad exactly what happened.
At least, not yet, though Cam might ask his father about his time-loop experience one day. He thinks it explains the tension between his father and grandma. According to Judith, Cam’s father also worried that his eldest son had inherited some of his grandmother’s powers, especially when Cam strayed from what was expected of him. But Cam—so far as he knows—is unable to manipulate time. However, we do wonder if his déjà vu is evidence of some unusual abilities, though we figure it’s more likely a sign of our connection.
Whether or not I’d told him the truth first, I assume he would have uncovered the memories when he ate the dumplings, but I can’t say for sure. When I was stuck on June 20, I could try different things under the same conditions, like it was a science experiment, but I can’t do that now, and that’s okay.
I’m glad I told him, and I’m glad he believed me.
“Are you worried about Monday?” Cam asks.
“A little, but I still feel good about it.”
Monday is when I start my new job, which I’m happy to say pays me more than the last one. Trying something new is scary; sticking with what I know is more comfortable. But despite my nerves, I’m excited. I hope this will be a better fit for me. After months of looking and a few interviews, I practically squealed when I got the offer.
I finish the blueberry tea and set the mug down on the coffee table. When I turn back to Cam, he has two wrapped gifts in his lap.
“Where did those come from?” I ask.
“Magic,” he says, and I laugh.
I think there’s more magic in the world than I believed before, but in this case, I suspect he had them stashed beside the couch and I just didn’t notice.
“It’s sort of our anniversary,” he explains.
“That’s true.”
He hands me the larger package first. It’s a bit bigger than my hand. I tear open the floral paper to reveal a framed photo of the two of us. I think it’s one that Justin took last month.
“I thought you could put it on your desk when you start your new job,” he says. “Or leave it at home. Whatever you like.”
I run my finger over the edge of the frame and think about the fact that we have no photos of all the times we saw each other last June 20, even though we share the memories.
The next box contains a pair of delicate gold earrings.
“If you don’t like them—”
“No, no, they’re perfect,” I assure him, and it’s true: they’re exactly my style. “I’ll wear them on Monday. Thank you so much.” I press my lips to his.
And then he takes me to bed and does some things that make it a very, very good June 20.
I wake up without an alarm at 7:55 a.m., Cam asleep next to me.
My phone is on the bedside table. When I pick it up, I see a text.
AVERY: It’s June 21!
ME: It is!!
After all this time, I’ve finally made it to June 21, and I couldn’t be happier.
There’s something amazing about the passage of time. When I first saw my parents after the loop, I thought my mother’s hair had more gray in it, and that tiny difference caused some complicated feelings. I don’t like thinking about my parents’ mortality, but I appreciate that each day is different from the one before it. The most ordinary experiences feel miraculous now.
I don’t feel as if I’m held together by duct tape anymore. I know things won’t always be easy; I know bad times will happen. But I have an inner strength I didn’t have before, and with that—as well as the great people around me—I can make the most of my life.
I never expected a fairy tale of my own, but I feel like I got one nonetheless.