41. Epilogue
Epilogue
One Year Later
It’s July in North Carolina again, which is another way of saying it’s hot as hell. Even so, the parking lot of the Wilsons’ store is full of cars and people, all of them gathered near the wooden, open-front enclosure with plants spilling out and a purple awning that reads Nina Lynn’s .
Early this spring, I approached Theo with the idea of creating a retail nursery under the umbrella of Hoyt Landscaping. My vision was to put it on the same lot as his office, but we ultimately decided that would be too out of the way. We scouted out a few more locations in the area, and although I would have liked an excuse to work near him, the right fit wasn't there.
Then, while setting up the first spring flowers on the crammed sidewalk outside the Wilsons’ front door, I had an idea. I took it home to Theo to talk over; the next day, we came in together with a proposal for Judith. She took it to her family, and now we’re about to officially open for business.
A pair of strong arms encircle me from behind, and I crane my head back to look at Theo, grinning. “Are they almost ready?”
“Almost,” he says. “You need to get up there.”
“ We need to get up there,” I tell him. “This is ours. I still think it should have your name on it instead of mine—you're funding it.”
Squeezing me tighter, he presses a kiss to the back of my head. “Nah, Sass. This was all you.”
I relax my body into his and give myself permission to be proud. It’s something I’m still working on, but getting better at all the time.
Sage and Quinton walk up, hand-in-hand. “Hey,” Sage tells me. “Judith is ready.”
Reluctantly, I disentangle myself from Theo, glancing toward the crowd we’re about to wade into. “Guess it's time."
The four of us move across the lot toward the nursery. We’re stopped several times by people wanting to chat and congratulate us. Cecil and Randi are in the crowd; they take turns hugging Theo and me hard, as if we weren’t just at their house for dinner three nights ago.
“Did you hear from your mom?” Randi asks quietly in my ear.
I swallow, my good mood deflating the slightest bit. I’ve been in occasional contact with my family over the past year, and I invited all three of them to the opening today. Dad and Brock sent their congratulations, but couldn’t (or didn’t want to) travel. Mom never responded to the text I sent two weeks ago. Part of me thinks that this—me opening my own business in Amity, securing my roots here and, in her eyes, repeating all of her mistakes—might be the final straw for our relationship.
We’ll see.
“No,” I tell Randi, trying not to sound too despondent.
She draws back and chucks my chin, the same way Theo has since we were kids. “Well, I’m proud of you,” she says fiercely. “For this, and for getting your GED, and for so many other things, Nina Lynn.”
I nod, ducking my head to hide any emotions that might be betrayed in my expression. One thing I’m crystal-clear on these days is who has been there for me, and who hasn’t. Who’s worth my energy, and who isn’t.
When we get to the front, we find Judith and Mrs. Wilson standing to the left of the entrance, which is blocked off by a giant red ribbon. Mrs. Wilson beams as she hands me a huge pair of scissors.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I’m ready now.”
Mrs. Wilson makes a motion to Theo. He winks at me, then puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. The conversations around us fade out, and the crowd begins to turn toward us. “Hey, y’all,” Theo yells once he has everyone’s attention. “We’re ready to get started here.”
Mrs. Wilson takes over. Her voice doesn’t carry as well as his, but everyone is quiet, reverent, as she talks about her late husband’s great-great-grandfather starting the general store at the turn of the twentieth century. It’s the oldest business still open in Amity, and she receives a round of applause when she thanks everybody for making that happen.
“And now,” she says, switching gears, “we’re proud to partner with Nina Lynn Sullivan--”
She is cut off by loud applause. Sage, Quinton, Randi, and Cecil are in the front row, hooting and clapping their hands over their heads. Theo touches the small of my back, and I move closer to him—a little embarrassed by the attention, but trying not to be.
When everyone is quiet once again, Mrs. Wilson continues: “We’re proud to partner with Nina, and Hoyt Landscaping, to bring you beautiful, seasonal plants year-round.” She moves aside and smiles at me, gesturing toward the entrance. “Let’s get in there.”
I look over at Theo and hold up the scissors. “Come on.”
“Honey,” he says quietly, so only I can hear. “This is yours.”
I grab his hand with my free hand. Someone near us makes an aww sound. I move us toward the center of the entrance, scissors poised over the ribbon."This life," I remind him, "is ours."
Theo grins. Gently, he holds onto my scissors-wielding hand, keeping it in place as he leans in and kisses me. Cheers rise up around us, and I internally roll my eyes. We've lived together for a year. We go to The Hutch with Sage and Quinton every Thursday night. Last weekend, we went to a jeweler in Goldsboro to look at rings; while there, we ran into our high school classmate Amy Baird, who still lives in town. It's not like the two of us being an item is news to anybody here.
But I also don't take it for granted that we have people who are pulling for us, so I take my time kissing him, and then I turn back to the entrance of our—my—nursery.
With one hand, I hold onto Theo’s.
With the other, I cut the ribbon.
And right now, everything feels absolutely perfect.