Epilogue
brUNO
Theo stands across the bench from me, and his sister, Willow, stands at the second bench, running the spectrograph data on her laptop. They came into my life through Kelsey, the way so many things have, lately.
“Second-pass surface density is up four points,” she says, not looking up. “You two are about to argue about the microns.”
“We already did,” Theo says.
She grins. “And?”
“Bruno’s updating his priors,” Theo says.
“I’m updating your priors,” I say.
“Hah,” Theo says. “Look, if we bring the temperature down two degrees on the second pass, we get better surface density without compromising the flex.”
“We lose three microns,” I say.
“We can afford three microns, now,” Theo says.
I take a look. “This is great news. We could have it on the next pass.”
Theo rubs his hands.
The thing I like about working with Theo and Willow is that they operate like scientists, changing their minds when the evidence changes, and we learn things from each other when we argue. I never saw the downside of working alone all these years. Of being alone.
But here I am, in my workshop with two other people who belong here.
“Hey!” Kelsey leans in the doorway. She’s wearing a crushed velvet minidress—deep orange—with her favorite boots.
Big silver earrings set off her dark curls.
Behind her, Mia has both hands braced on the doorframe overhead, doing a casual hang as if waiting for a bus.
Antonio is behind her, holding two glasses of champagne, apparently one of which is for himself.
“Nerds of the world,” Kelsey says. “I regret to inform you that you’re about to miss the cake.”
“Phillip made it,” Mia adds.
I can hear it now—the deck above us, voices, laughter. Annie’s voice carrying over someone else’s. I’ve had this yacht for eleven years. I can count on one hand the number of times the deck has sounded like that.
The three of us had come down here after a discussion over an hour ago. Our idea was just to test out a theory, but things evolved.
“Five minutes,” I say.
“You’ve been saying five minutes for forty minutes,” Kelsey says. She looks at Willow. “He doesn’t own a clock, which is ironic.”
“He owns hundreds of clocks,” Theo says. “Tiny clocks.”
“Ask him the difference between clocks and watches but wait until you’re both back down on deck eating cake.”
She gives me her best innocent face. I give her nothing back, which she’s long since learned to read as I see what you’re doing.
Her dimples deepen.
“Five minutes,” I say again. “Actually this time.”
The three of us make a plan to resume the project in the upcoming week.
That sort of thing is possible these days because my yacht is docked at Chelsea Piers Marina.
I spent eleven years as an island, but now I’m more like a peninsula jutting off the west side, being tied up here.
You can walk from the boat straight onto the street, and the view is great.
When I look east, there’s Manhattan rising up, all glass and steel.
On the other side is the Hudson River, with its expanse of water and sky, and New Jersey on the other side.
“They made it!” Kelsey jumps up from a lounger and comes to me as we step onto the brightly lit aft deck, where a full two-dozen friends are gathered across the seating areas that are in no way perpendicular to each other.
People have been laughing and talking and hanging out on this warm October night.
Even my brothers have shown up. There’s a whole spread of finger foods on the bar.
Phillip has absolutely outdone himself in terms of creativity.
It’s Kelsey’s and my four-month anniversary, “which is as good a reason as any for a party,” she said.
She sets me up with a cocktail, and suddenly McGillicuddy is coming out with a large rectangular cake.
“Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting,” McGillicuddy announces as she sets it down on the bar. Annie sets out plates and napkins.
People gather around. What’s remarkable about the cake is not the fact that it’s carrot cake, it’s the recreation—in frosting—of the HEART YOU, CHUMPYWUMPY banner, done in intricate detail.
“Phillip!” Kelsey screams. “What have you done?”
Phillip comes out looking sheepish and proud. “I took some creative liberties.”
I say, “Just so everyone knows, that isn’t what we call each other.”
“It’s not,” Kelsey says.
Not everybody knows the story behind it. It’s my brother Adrian’s favorite story to tell. He’s so deadpan and serious about it. He has everybody laughing. “My serious, lone-wolf brother suddenly decorating his yacht with banners and teddy bears,” he grumbles.
“I was like, mistakes were made, but we can sell this to Adrian,” Kelsey says.
I wrap an arm over her shoulder. “That was the first time I really understood how strong you are. What a warrior you are. And what it is like to have a partner to rely on.”
Annie and Phillip cut the cake. Kelsey eats her slice with the focused pleasure she brings to all food.
I stand next to her and think, I would have missed this.
Not the party. This whole new life. I was entirely prepared to miss all of it if I could just get the watches more accurate. As if that would be worth it.
I’ve never had so many people on the yacht. And that they are all more or less people that I could count on in a pinch. Kelsey’s world has a quality of abundance that still sometimes startles me.
Max, ever the entertainment entrepreneur, has been talking to my brothers about events out at the vineyard. Some of the guys have been wondering if we can fish from the boat. Lizzie has brought frosted yacht cookies.
At some point, Mia and Kelsey and Antonio hop up onto the bar and begin singing something from the show, Antonio doing something theatrical with his champagne glass as a prop. People clap along.
The festivities are winding down later. Kelsey’s friend Vicky with the dog named Smuckers asks if her family’s come to see the show yet.
“They came.” Kelsey settles back against the railing. “I saw them at intermission. It was—” A small pause. “It was...fine.”
The tiara secret unraveled a few weeks back, the way these things do when a private investigator has been asking questions.
Secrets began to slip out; time tends to loosen people’s lips far more than anything else.
Somebody mentioned something to the wrong person and the secret traveled the gossip chain to Kelsey’s mother.
Meredith had stripped the stones and sold them separately.
Her mother called a few weeks back. I wasn’t there, but I heard about it afterward, and I know what it costs a woman like Gabrielle Winters to make a call like that, and I know what it cost Kelsey to receive it with the grace she did. It was more than that woman deserved.
“They want me to come for Christmas.”
Vicky hands the little dog to her man, Henry. “And?”
Kelsey turns her champagne glass slowly.
The maraschino cherry rolls around at the bottom.
“Honestly, I’m not interested—not this year, at least. We’re going to Newport.
” Her eyes find mine. “Bruno’s mother, Loretta, is moving out there; she’s going to help Russell with the winery and the events.
First Christmas all together in forever. ”
“That’s the one you want to be at,” Vicky says simply.
People leave in groups.
Eventually the deck is quiet, the glasses cleared.
“Helipad?” Kelsey says.
I grab a blanket. I hand it to her when she reaches the top. We bundle up together.
The sun is setting over New Jersey, going orange and then red and then a dusky salmon gray. We huddle together watching. She leans back against me. I put my arm around her. I can feel her fingers on my forearm. They stop at the Roadrunner watch. “You don’t have to keep wearing this,” she says.
“Why not? I love how it baffles people. Especially in the watch world.”
She laughs and tips her head back. “You put it on as a reminder, but now we’re creating this life. I feel like the life all around us is the reminder, now. Plus, it’s mine, if you recall. I picked it out for myself. I mean, with this outfit?”
“I don’t want to ever forget to be like this, though,” I say.
“That’s what we have each other for.” She works at the buckle. “How wrong is this watch at this point?”
“So wrong.”
She puts it on her own wrist and holds it out. “Perfect.”
Heart-eyes ahoy! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed Bruno and Kelsey as much as I did.