Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Are you done?” I ask Ryan.
He rubs his temples. “No, I’ll never be finished. It’s hopeless. These revisions are killing me. How can I reduce my word count and also add in more emotion? I’m a writer, not a magician!”
He’s so cute, just shy of shaking his fist at the heavens.
“You always say that, baby.” I stand behind him, rubbing his tight shoulders.
Life is never smooth when Ryan is revising but we’ve devised a system.
It became necessary to implement one, since for the first few months we lived together in my she-shed.
We do love each other, intensely, but every writer needs elbow room.
Some days I write at the coffee shop, and other days Ryan does.
We have our established work hours and we’re strict about those.
If Ryan or I are having a tough time letting go of a scene, one of us will shout, “And…end scene!”
The agreement is we stop then, wherever we are in the manuscript.
It works because we both need balance and also it helps that we like each other…a lot.
Our days consist of the work that we love, eating takeout, going for long walks, reading books, watching movies, and hanging out with Sofia and her latest boyfriend.
Many nights we wind up at Abuelita’s for dinner with Eddie and my mother where we all watch telenovelas.
Ryan and I are both fascinated with the melodramatics and lie in bed many nights analyzing how we could layer in more emotion to our stories.
Oh, and the video of my mother’s purse smacking the man who insulted me?
It went viral. The podcaster got a lot of mileage out of that incident for which he is probably grateful even if he never had the grace to admit it.
Interestingly, enough people recognized my mother from her soap opera days that eventually a telenovela producer reached out, wanting to cast her.
Shocking everyone, including me, my mother said no, thank you. Her acting days are over.
My mother and Eddie married in a fairly elaborate Catholic ceremony and are living together in a cute single-story craftsman bungalow not far from Abuelita. They don’t have to worry about her since Ryan and I are still here. In the backyard.
We had a decision to make: pay a ridiculous price for an executive condo, move out of California, or stay where we are.
As writers, we both know the money won’t always be flowing.
And the truth of it is, we’d much rather give our regular donation to Elizabeth’s literacy foundation than buy a big house we can barely afford.
Abuelita was happy to let us break ground in her backyard.
We got a permit, and after combining our funds we bought the kit and materials.
In the place of the former she-shed is now an adorable tiny home.
It’s plenty of room for the two of us, and should we decide at some point to add to our family, we will reconsider.
You might wonder what ever happened to my fantasy time travel romance.
Ryan has encouraged me to write the project of my heart, and that first novel of mine is finally ready for prime time.
Now that I have a first-rate agent, there is plenty of interest in it, too, because of a new and popular genre they’re calling “romantasy.” I used to call it romantic fantasy. Go figure.
“Are we still having karaoke night?” Ryan asks.
“I’m afraid so.” I kiss him and crawl into his lap to make out for a few minutes.
Karaoke night is not his favorite, but there’s no way we can avoid it as it happens right outside our front door.
We wouldn’t want to, anyway, because it’s become a lot more fun since Eddie started sharing the spotlight.
It turns out my mother has a lovely singing voice.
And one night, pumped with spiked horchata, and high on being short-listed for a major literary award, plus an offer to teach at the local university, we even got Ryan behind the mike.
I joined him and together we sang, “I Got You, Babe.” A classic.
“Don’t quit your day job!” Diego laughed and took the mike back.
Okay, so we’re not very good.
We eat a quick dinner now before the family descends and spills out into the backyard for Friday night Santana family karaoke.
Eddie greets us. “Are you two going to sing tonight?”
I hear Ryan groan behind me as he lowers his head to my shoulder and tightens his arms around my waist. My cue to save him.
“Well, Ryan’s been editing today, so…”
“Ah, say no more, my friend!” Eddie claps his hands. “It sounds like it’s just me and my Geneva tonight. We’ve been working on a selection from the musical Cats.”
Ryan gives me a horrified look and I’ll be honest, I’m scared too. Still, this is my family, good or bad. Most of it is good, except for karaoke night.
Ryan has slipped into my family with a kind of easy acceptance and instant connection.
And speaking of family, I’m likely the best thing to happen to the Brady one, if I do say so myself.
Ryan’s mother came to visit us after he permanently moved to Seven Trees.
She’s a gentle woman with eyes the same dark blue color as Ryan’s.
It might take time, but I know eventually we will reconcile Ryan with the rest of his family.
His honoring of Elizabeth by creating a foundation in her name went a long way, but there’s still healing to be done.
I’ve discovered something on this journey that began on the day my wedding was canceled. There are many kinds of love stories. They are all around us every day. From the older couple who has waited a long time to be together, to the couple who jumps right in. With love, anything is possible.
I love Ryan with all my heart, and he’s my true love.
But my family is the love of my life.