27. Epilogue
Epilogue
2 years later
Brooke
"Dusty! Are you ready yet?" I yell out as I triple-check the flight info on my phone. I just finished washing up my baking trays. I don't sell my goods anymore, but the flow of baking a massive batch of cookies (or cupcakes) relaxes me. And Dustin adores reaping the benefits.
"No. Help." His voice echoes down the hall of what's now our condo. I roll my eyes and plod down to the bedroom where I find Huey sleeping peacefully on his lap. Dustin looks up at me with pleading eyes.
"What?" I ask as I pop out my hip.
"You know it's illegal to move a sleeping cat. Look at his little toes—they're so cute, they should be outlawed!" Dustin protests with a whisper-yell.
"He's just doing that because he can sense we're leaving. It'll be fine, babe. The house sitter is locked and loaded. She's gonna be here tonight—I left her a pile of chocolate chip cookies—and Huey will get the chance to wrap another human around his finger. Paw. Whatever," I chuckle. "Our flight's in two hours and you know security will be insane—we need to go!"
Dustin heaves a sigh, and I watch my husband gently remove the orange menace from his lap, then place him directly into the warm sunbeam on our bed. His gold wedding band glints in the light, and I stifle a smile.
"Alright, alright. Let's go. Bye, son!" Dustin lays a tiny kiss on Huey's little pink nose. Huey chirps in his sleep. I almost melt, and then we'd really be in trouble because I'm definitely more than three-point-four fluid ounces. TSA would never let me on the plane.
Dustin keeps his hand on my thigh the whole drive to O'Hare. I'm practically vibrating with excitement—we're flying to New York, then renting a car and driving down to the Jersey Shore. It's the first time we've both been able to take vacation days together since our wedding six months ago. I've really come into my own at Atmosphere, and now Dustin is an engineering manager at—funny enough—a new startup.
I've never seen him this happy, to be honest. And he's never once belittled my career ambitions, which I recognize is a low bar, but Calvin really did a number on me. I've started therapy as well, and my therapist is helping me work through my anxiety. Everything just feels right .
"You excited to see Janine?" Dustin asks as we stand in the security line .
"I'm going to gnaw a hole in my enclosure," I laugh back. "I've missed her so much. I badly need some bestie time."
"Do you really think she'd be interested in third-wheeling for sushi?" Dustin scrolls through the itinerary he wrote up on his phone.
"I'll drag her myself if she's not."
Pretty soon, it's time for us to board, and we settle into our seats. Dustin gripes about the paid in-flight WiFi, and I roll my eyes at him, but I secretly agree. It is a scam. Lucky for me, though, I've pre-downloaded a bunch of books on my e-reader. Assuming I can stay awake, that is. Something about flying makes me fall asleep every single time.
I was right. I conked out almost immediately. The jolt of the plane touching down in New York rouses me from my slumber. Dustin's kept his hand on my leg the whole flight (I assume). It's such a little thing, but I like it. I love my husband.
Janine and I were both worried I'd have debilitating anxiety about getting married again. My therapist told me that situational anxiety is within the realm of normal. She then asked what, specifically, made me nervous about marrying Dustin? That's when I realized I wasn't worried about marrying Dustin . It was a general fear of failing a second marriage. So, she asked me to invite Dustin to our next session. He listened, he asked insightful questions, and by the time we left?
I wasn't anxious anymore. Our wedding day was the best day of my life.
By the time we reach Janine's stop on the train, I'm almost lost in my thoughts. The energy of the city floods through me as we emerge from the station and I breathe in a deep breath—then cough it out, because someone's definitely pissed behind the subway sign. Ah, New York. Never change.
Janine waits at the stoop of her building and pops up like a jack-in-the-box when she sees us down the sidewalk.
"You bitch!" she shrieks, barreling towards me. "How dare you take this long to come see me?"
"Good to see you, Janine," Dustin laughs as she tackles me.
"Mmf," I sputter into Janine's shoulder. She's pretty much choking me.
"Not sorry. This is what you deserve," she taunts.
"I can't buy you sushi if you strangle me!" I gasp. That gets her attention, and she releases me from her hold.
"Oh, well. In that case, let's boogie. "
Moments later, we gorge ourselves on the finest sushi her neighborhood has to offer. Salmon, tuna, yellowtail, inari, eel, and my personal favorite: shrimp tempura. I'm a simple woman; I like fried shrimp. She tells me everything that's been going on in her life—her new job, the latest antics of her bonkers downstairs neighbors—and is oddly cagey about her dating life.
Our dinner is too short, but we have to get on the road to New Jersey. She strangles me with another hug before Dustin and I head to the rental car place. She promises she'll visit Chicago soon. I'll hold her to that. Dustin leans his head on my shoulder during the train ride, nearly falling asleep. He's so cute when he relaxes. Well, that's a lie. He's cute all the time.
Yep, I'm a lucky gal.