Epilogue
Kaleb
“ Thank you, everyone, for gathering here today.”
A sharp-suited rep from the Oregon Department of Transportation holds up a huge pair of scissors. Two other guys dressed in ODOT shirts stretch a ribbon across the new walkway.
It’s a rare sunny day on the Oregon Coast, and blue-gray waves lap the seawall below. A seagull swoops from the cliffs to a tree, but it doesn’t poop on anyone.
Seems like a good sign to me.
“Now,” says the guy in the suit, “it’s our honor to invite America’s best-known advice expert, Brooke Braham, to cut the ribbon on the new Grace Braham Safety Zone.”
My beautiful girlfriend strides up to the team, her glossy dark hair stirred by the breeze. A car whizzes past and honks in support. Or maybe it’s someone who noticed the world’s most stunning woman on the side of this desolate stretch of coastal road.
I survey the crowd as Brooke and the ODOT team mess with the mic. There’s some kind of tech trouble, and I’m fighting the urge to go fix it.
But they’ve got it handled. She gives me a smile like she knows it’s taking a lot for me to stay put. This is Brooke’s show. And she looks like she’s glad for a moment to gather her bearings.
I sit tight and survey the crowd. Lucy’s here with Harper, and Cassidy, too. Zoe and Jake had to work, but there’s Mason with Annabelle Hanlon, the vet. They’ve got Ribsy beside them, wearing an orange polka-dot bowtie. Her tail thrashes sideways, sending a small pile of pebbles skittering.
“Good girl,” I tell her, as Mason stoops down to scratch her ears. “Way to keep the ground swept.”
“I taught her that one.” He’s such a damn smart-ass. “We’re working on vacuuming next.”
“Nice.” I keep scanning the crowd, waving to Brooke’s parents. Her brothers came, too, and one of their wives moves to fix Brooke’s hair as the ODOT guy wrangles the mic.
There’s Maxine and Sam, off to the side by the guardrail. They’re chatting with Parker and his girlfriend, who came all the way here from Alaska.
A few yards from them, Erika stands with her tall Navy boyfriend. He keeps checking his watch, which is par for the course for that guy. I’ve never been a fan.
But they’re here. All of them, here, in this place that’s so bittersweet for Brooke. There’s so much damn love on the side of this desolate road.
Mom nibbles her lip as another ODOT guy steps up to tinker with the mic cord.
“Should we help?” she whispers. “I hate watching them struggle.”
“Nah.” I’ll jump in if Brooke signals for help. “She told me last night it’s important to stand on her own for this.”
Mom smiles. “You two are so good at communicating.”
We’re getting there. It’s taken a lot of work. Both of us had to learn when to rush in and help or ask for a hand when we need it. It’s a fine line to walk, but we’re walking together. Learning and growing and all that great shit Brooke describes in her books.
“Thanks, everyone.” Brooke speaks into the mic, which seems to be working now. She’s holding the super-huge scissors in one hand. “It’s so great to see all these familiar faces.”
Cassidy smiles as Hazel offers an encouraging nod. Everyone’s rapt with attention.
Everyone’s here for my girl. She’s one of us now, part of the Cherry Blossom Lake world.
“I’m so grateful to all of you for being here today.” She nods to the stiff guys in suits. “And to the Department of Transportation for all your hard work establishing this new safety zone.”
She doesn’t mention the part where her two-million-dollar donation paid for a feasibility study on blasting back part of the cliff. She made it contingent on preserving the natural landscape and ensuring no wildlife was harmed or displaced. Sam helped with that part, while Peter pulled a few legal strings.
The result is a much wider road here at Obliot Cape. There’s a platform for viewing the ocean and room for eight cars to park safely. A new bike lane stretches from Kneef’s Lighthouse to town, and there’s even a cell tower a mile up the road.
Max uses it now to stream video. She still works for Brooke, which got much easier once they both moved to Oregon.
“As most of you know,” Brooke continues, “this project was named for my sister, Grace Braham.” Her eyes start to shimmer, but she doesn’t blink back the tears. One starts to roll, and she just lets it flow. “She lost her life in a tragic accident in this very spot. But today, we’re here to celebrate her and honor the work we’ve all put into making the Grace Braham Safety Zone a reality.” That’s her cue to cut the ribbon, which she does with the absurdly huge scissors.
We all applaud and Brooke hands them back to the guy in the suit. “Join me now,” she says, “in honoring Grace by tossing flowers to the sea.”
We practiced this earlier, all of us shuffling to a big copper bucket brimming with bright blooms. There’s gladioli to signify remembrance and strength of character. Bright orange bird of paradise represents Grace’s adventurous spirit, with the bonus of being her favorite color.
Mom helped us choose, since knowing the meanings of flowers falls right in her wheelhouse. We’ve forged a new path, Mom and I. Less co-dependent and more like a healthy mother and son.
It’s a work in progress, just like we all are.
Brooke launches a long stem of pink flowers, flinging it straight like an arrow. It spears through a wave, setting off squawks from a pack of pissed-off seagulls.
“What a beautiful day,” Mom murmurs. “Doesn’t get much better than this.”
I chuck my own stem of blooms into the ocean. “Thanks for finding the flowers.” The bird of paradise wasn’t easy to track down. “It means a lot to Brooke.”
“Of course, honey.” Mom squeezes my hand. “I’m just happy to be part of this.”
We’re lined up at the rock wall, all of our eyes fixed on the sea. Brooke’s with her family, saying goodbye in a way they didn’t get to before. I’m giving them space to do that, grateful to see they’re all smiling. The grief isn’t raw anymore. There’s laughter and love to soften its edges.
Mom and I watch as Cassidy, Zoe, and Hazel take turns hugging Brooke. Lucy goes next, then Erika, Hayley, and Brooke’s friend Camille from LA.
“My sisters,” she called them last night when we talked through how today’s service would go.
I’m so glad she has them, this powerful pack of women she sees as her family.
And if the next ten minutes unfold like I’m hoping, some of them might become family in other ways, too.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Did I tell you Lucy asked me to do flowers for their wedding?” Mom smiles like they’ve given her a Nobel prize. “It’s going to be so pretty.”
“Maybe Jake and Cass can get in on that, too.” I watch as Brooke’s mother serves another bright bundle of flowers to the sea. “Did they tell you they’re scheduling the ceremonies close together?”
“It makes sense,” Mom murmurs. “Noah and Parker can only get back here so often. Might as well make it a wedding bonanza.”
I smile at the thought of that. Maxine and Sam got engaged as well, and they’re planning a service at Sam’s wildlife sanctuary. Parker hasn’t proposed to his girlfriend yet, but something tells me it’s on the horizon.
Maybe mine won’t be far off.
Mom squeezes my arm. “Nervous?”
“No.” Watching Brooke toss her final stem, I can’t help smiling. “Just excited.”
And ready to give this a shot.
Brooke reclaims the mic and thanks us for coming. I know what comes next, and I watch as the suit-clad ODOT guy steps up to address us again. “Before we let all of you go, there’s someone else who’d like to say a few words.” He catches my eye and I take my cue, drawing a breath as Mom touches my arm.
“You’ve got this,” she whispers as I stride to the front of the group.
“Kaleb.” Brooke blinks in surprise as I approach. “What’s all this?”
But my girl’s intuitive. Deep down, she knows. It’s not like we haven’t discussed this before. I’d never co-opt an event like this if I wasn’t damn sure she’d want it.
“Brooke Avery Braham,” I say, and her smile spreads like warm honey. “You are the most compassionate, brilliant, kind-hearted human I’ve ever met.” Taking her hand, I look deep in her eyes and watch as they start to fill. “I thank God every day that you fell in the lake and needed my help with your keys. But our partnership works because we both need each other—that’s the real key, I think.”
I hope I’m getting this right. I rehearsed with my therapist, wanting to do this the best way I could.
The love in Brooke’s eyes tells me I’m doing just fine.
“I’m not perfect,” I continue, prompting a laugh from my girl. “And as much as I believe with my whole heart that you are, I know you’d be the first to list each of your flaws in alphabetical order. Your ability to do that is what makes me feel safe to let down my own guard. To accept it’s okay not to be okay sometimes. And if I look out for you, and you look out for me, somewhere in between, it all balances out.”
“That’s beautiful,” she says, squeezing my hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” And I’m happy we’re building a home and a life together. One month from now, our place on the ridge should be done.
It’s my hope I’ll move in with my new bride-to-be by my side.
“Brooke.” Fishing one hand in my pocket, I pull out the ring I had specially made. She gasps as I flash it, holding it up to the light. “The most stunning woman I’ve ever met once pointed out I have a thing for pretty stones.”
This one’s a beauty at nearly a carat. Brooke’s heard the story of how Mom hid a brooch that belonged to our grandma. An heirloom piece with a diamond for each Spencer-King kid.
“I love you so much,” I continue, getting down on one knee. There’s no trace of puddles, now that the ground’s been repaved with new storm drains installed. “You make me the very best version of myself. Will you also make me the happiest man on earth by marrying me?”
“Yes.” Laughing, she puts out her hand and I slide the ring onto her finger. “Oh my God, Kaleb—it’s so beautiful.”
It’s the first time she’s seeing the ring, a custom design made by one of her sister’s art school friends. There’s the stone in the middle, of course. But it’s flanked by small gems that all have a meaning.
There’s bright green emerald for growth and renewal.
Deep black onyx for strength and protection.
Warm peachy morganite for love and emotional healing.
Mom helped me pick, smiling with pride when I showed her the finished product. “She’ll love it,” Mom promised. “Even if it wasn’t gorgeous, she’d love that it comes from your heart.”
With the ring on her finger, Brooke grabs my arms and drags me to my feet. “Kiss me,” she says, and why would I argue?
“I love you, Brooke.”
“I love you so much.”
As our family applauds, I pull my new fiancée into my arms. I kiss her slowly and deep as my family claps, along with three strangers from ODOT.
Who says romance is dead?
“Thank you for being mine,” I whisper. “Always and forever.”
“Thank you .” Brooke draws back and her eyes lock with mine. “For being my rock for the rest of our lives.”
She’s got that right. “Always,” I say, as I kiss her again, and the ocean applauds as it splashes to shore.
***