Epilogue
Evan
I ’ve forgone my usual walk today, but it’s for a good reason: I had to pick up a birthday cake before the bakery closed.
As I drive toward our house, I pass the community mailbox. It occurs to me that I ought to check the mail, just in case, even though I did it yesterday. When I find an envelope for Jane, I’m very glad I stopped.
I arrive home a couple of minutes later. Skylar is attempting to roll a snowball in the small amount of snow we got last night—our first of the season. I wave at her before heading inside my and Jane’s house. After taking off my winter clothes, I walk to the kitchen, where my wife is drinking a cup of water. She’s wearing yoga pants and a cozy sweater, and she looks utterly lovely. I set the bakery box on the counter and give her a quick kiss.
“You can take that scarf off now,” she teases.
I made sure I wore a scarf during my earlier Zoom meeting and when I went to the bakery, but she’s right: I don’t need to hide my hickey when it’s just the two of us. I unwind the scarf from my neck, and I groan as she brushes her fingers over the small mark.
I can’t let myself get too distracted, however. I still have a dinner to cook, but first, I go to the next room and tie the scarf around Watson’s neck. It sort of clashes with his party hat, but I have a feeling he doesn’t mind. Besides, it has the desired effect of making Jane chuckle, and that’s the most important thing.
When I return to the kitchen, she opens the box. Like the one I got her exactly a year ago, it has words written in chocolate, but this time, they say, “Happy Birthday.”
“Is it the same as the bottom tier of our wedding cake?”
“Since your birthday is also the anniversary of our engagement—and you really like this cake—I thought it was appropriate. More appropriate and elegant than, I don’t know, a cake that looks like a hamburger.” I pull her close. “Happy thirty-fourth birthday, Jane.”
I’ve already wished her that more than once, but she deserves to hear it again.
The past couple of months have been wonderful, to put it mildly. I’d originally expected our marriage to be comfortable and convenient, but it’s so much more than that. Jane and I go to sleep in the same bed every night now, our favorite wedding picture hanging on the wall opposite the bed. I hope that one day, her old room will be our child’s room.
I pull out the envelope from under the cake box. “I checked the mail on the way home.”
“It’s from Peyton.” Jane opens the envelope and smiles as she shows me a birthday card.
My wife hasn’t spoken to her father since his visit in September, but she’s been keeping in touch with Peyton, and she took her out for dinner when she went to B.C. last month.
I didn’t go on that trip with her, but we did manage a trip together in October. We went to a resort up north and spent three nights in a honeymoon suite. It was lots of fun. We spent a fair bit of time in bed and in the tub, but we also enjoyed the leaves. I appreciate that she doesn’t doubt my passion for her, even if I’m not always trying to jump her.
Her phone buzzes. She takes a quick look, then shows me the screen. It’s a text from my mother, wishing her a happy birthday. The other day, my mom suggested that she and my dad could take us out for dinner today if Jane wanted, but I consulted with my wife, and we agreed to do it some other time. I’m glad I can share my family with Jane, but I’m also glad she’s become closer with Peyton.
She deserves to have as many loving people in her life as she can.
That Sunday, we go to my parents’ house for dinner. My parents have put up their Christmas tree, and maybe that’s why I can’t help thinking of last Christmas’s family gathering as Jane and I sit on the couch in the living room.
How much difference a year can make.
Leo and Yvonne are in the kitchen with my father. My mother and Jon are in the living room, but Max and Kim still aren’t here yet, which is odd. Max is rarely the last to arrive.
A moment later, I hear the front door open, and while everyone else stays seated, I go to greet my brother. He’s whispering something to Kim and doesn’t immediately see me. Her cheeks are pink. Whether it’s from the December cold or another reason, I’m not sure.
I suddenly have a feeling that Max did what he told me he was going to do. When I notice Kim is keeping her left hand in her pocket, my suspicion is confirmed.
“Congratulations,” I murmur, holding him back as Kim enters the living room.
His lips quirk up.
I hope he’ll be as happy in marriage as I am, but I’ll save any further words for the official announcement, which I assume will be in the next few minutes.
As I reenter the living room, I can’t help looking at Jon. Everyone is coupled up aside from him. He acts like he’s content with hookups, but he did have a girlfriend, once upon a time, and I wonder if that will ever happen again.
I return to my seat next to Jane and run my thumb over her wedding band.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the future brings.
Thank you for reading Two Friends in Marriage !