Epilogue
EPILOGUE
AVERY
Two Years Later
“That was the last one.” I sit back on my heels and toss the packing tape on the ground.
Gabriel picks up the box and adds it to the stack on the table. Our dining room is unrecognizable. Every inch is piled with boxes.
“Are you sure you closed the store?” I ask, eyebrows raised. I want the holidays to be about us, not Gabriel’s business or my next book. Jill supports my holiday break, especially because I’m on deadline for the second of the three-book deal she secured for me eighteen months ago. She wants me to return from my break inspired and ready to write.
So do I. So does my publisher.
“It’s closed,” Gabriel reaffirms. “Mason changed it all earlier today. Every product says we’re not currently accepting orders, and there is a banner as soon as the page loads that announces we’re taking a break for the holidays.”
“Perfect.” I blow a stray hair from my face and hold out a hand. “I have to pee.”
Gabriel helps me up. “You went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago.”
“Feel free to have a talking-to with your son,” I call over my shoulder as I waddle from the room.
Six more weeks to go until delivery, and I’m huge. And I can’t find a comfortable position to sleep in. And I’m constantly being kicked from the inside.
I love every second of it.
Last year, Gabriel and I had a house built on the outskirts of Sugar Creek. We hosted a housewarming party and invited all our family and friends. Everyone was confused when the music switched from top hits to Canon in D Major. Gabriel and I walked from the house, him in a navy blue suit and me in a lemon yellow dress. Everyone swore they were shocked, except Camryn, who loudly announced she saw it coming a million miles away. That night, we said ‘I do’ a second time.
Our home has a large wood shop in the back, where Gabriel works. Joel retired from Intricate Wood Works, and Gabriel took over. Gabriel spends his days working with his hands, and creating. Mason runs his online store and social media. His wedding arches have become something of a wedding status symbol, but he is careful about how many orders he accepts. Gabriel is purposeful with how he spends his time. His priority is me, and this sweet boy I’m carrying.
My phone rings in my purse as I’m turning off the bathroom light. I lumber over to where I left it on the kitchen counter, nearly missing the call.
When I see it’s Jill, I glance at the time. It’s late for her to be calling.
“Hey, Jill,” I answer.
“Are you sitting down?” Her brisk voice thunders across the connection.
“Um, no. Why?” She sounds excited, so I don’t think the news is bad.
“I don’t want to be the reason you deliver that baby early. Maybe you should sit down.”
“Spit it out, Jill.” I’m pretty sure my smile comes through in my tone.
“I received an email from a production company. They want to know if the TV/Film rights are available for your book.”
“Wha— What?” I look around for a chair. I think I really do need to sit down.
Gabriel comes in from the backyard, feet stuffed in unlaced boots. He didn’t wear a coat, and now he’s rubbing the cold from his forearms. He stops when he sees whatever look is on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, hurrying to me.
“Jill.” I point at the phone. “TV. Film. Book.” I hold my hands out to steady myself. “Sweet Jesus. Oh my Lord.”
Gabriel grabs the only chair not loaded with packages and guides me to sit. He hits speaker on my phone.
“Jill, hi,” Gabriel says. “What’s going on?”
She repeats herself.
Gabriel’s eyes grow large and he mouths ‘ Are you flipping kidding me? ’
‘ I know! ’ I mouth back, arms slicing the air in tiny, chaotic movements.
“What do you think?” Jill asks, voice crisp. “Should I say yes?”
“Yeah. Yes.” My hands are at my mouth, fingers tapping my lips. “This is insane.”
Jill informs me she’ll write the person back right now, and get back to me with their response. She hangs up, and I stare at my phone. The baby kicks, and reflexively I reach down and press into the spot.
Gabriel lays his palm on mine. “On a scale of one to ten, how badly are you freaking out right now?”
“One thousand,” I reply.
Gabriel laughs. “Me too.”
I look up at him. It seems prudent to inject some cautious optimism into my thoughts. Just to hedge my bets. “This could be nothing, you know. They could decide it doesn’t translate from book to screen.”
Gabriel lowers himself so he’s balanced on the balls of his feet. He brushes hair from my face, his hand staying on the back of my neck. “Or, it could be something.”
I smile at him. My husband. “We’ll just see what Jill has to say and go from there.”
Gabriel offers me a hand and helps me stand. My belly bumps into the stack of packages closest to me, and the top three teeter and tumble down to the ground.
“I’m happy your talents are in such high demand, but I won’t be sorry when gift-giving season is over. I’m ready to have my home back.”
Gabriel is on the floor, retrieving the package that slid under the table. He hands it up to me. I’m placing it on the top of the stack when I see who it’s addressed to. Mr. & Mrs. Hudson Donahue. It’s a Phoenix address.
“Did you see this one?” I run a finger along the printed postage.
Gabriel reads where I’m pointing. “I didn’t notice it.”
“Me neither.” I’m the one who stuck the printed label on all these packages. I’d done so many I eventually stopped paying attention to names.
“How does that make you feel?” Gabriel wraps his arms around me and my belly.
I turn around. My stomach bumps against his. “Good. I want him to be happy.”
He brushes a kiss on my lips. “I want him to be happy too, as long as it’s not with my wife.”
I smile against his lips. “I love you.”
Gabriel carefully folds me into his arms. “I love you more than you will ever know.”
He’s wrong. I know how much he loves me.
How much we love each other.
Some people claim love makes a person weak, but I disagree. Real love forces a person to do the hard work. It will ask you to get uncomfortable, to expose the wound, to confront what hurts you most. That requires strength. Fortitude. And above all else, compassion.
I understand now why some marriages simply don’t make it. Living and loving through one another’s growing pains isn’t easy. It can seem insurmountable. It can be insurmountable.
But we did it. Through grace, or luck, or stubborn hearts, and maybe a little of all three, we wound up here.
Camryn recently asked me what I would do if I were handed a magic wand. Would I erase the fractured path Gabriel and I traveled to get to where we are today? The simple answer is, no. We may never have ended up in this place if we didn't go to war with our demons. I’ve embraced everything it took to get us here. So has Gabriel.
We are different the second time around. We are intentional. Careful. Considerate. Hard-won love is sweeter.
Gabriel leads me to our bed and tucks the extra pillow under my stomach. He climbs in behind me and kisses my shoulder.
Four weeks later, Nash Woodruff arrives quietly into the world. Corinne and Doug wait with my dad and Lara outside the delivery room, and Corinne sobs when we introduce her.
Later, when visiting hours are over and it’s dark outside, Gabriel climbs into the bed with me and the baby. The pad of his thumb rubs over the side of Nash’s tiny, dark head of hair.
“Thank you for naming him Nash,” Gabriel murmurs.
“There was no other name for him,” I whisper.
I close my eyes, and allow the happiness to seep into me. Life hasn’t been, and won’t be, perfect, but I’m going to hold on to the moments that are. I’m going to keep them close to my heart, where I can feel them always.
The End