Epilogue #2
Doris practically bounced beside me. “A real Hollywood party. It’s a fairy tale!”
“Do you have the address? Gotta get out the map,” Marge said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m putting it in my GPS. We are not going to try to use a paper map to find our way around LA. Especially in that.”
I pointed toward the parking lot where—impossible to miss—Bertha was.
Our massive, ridiculous, beloved RV sat gleaming under the parking lot lights.
“I’m driving,” Tom announced.
“The hell you are.” Marge marched toward the driver’s side. “I bought her. I own her. I drive her.”
I laughed, remembering how Marge couldn’t bring herself to return Bertha after our trip. She’d bought her outright and paid a man to drive her back to Wilder Lane, where Bertha now took up a truly absurd amount of space in Marge’s driveway.
We’d all piled into her for this trip—all four widows plus spouses crammed in like sardines, stopping at roadside attractions and campgrounds along the way. It had been chaotic and uncomfortable and absolutely wonderful. A trip I would never forget.
“Well, the party doesn’t start for an hour,” I said. “I guess we can just hang out here in Bertha for a bit. Don’t want to be the first ones there.”
“We are definitely arriving fashionably late,” Alice said.
As we reached Bertha, the spouses drifted off to give us space. They knew we needed this moment.
Just us.
The four of us slid into the seats around the table, and Alice produced a flask of whiskey.
“I’m so glad I can drink again. Those months of chemo and being dry were really the pits.” She took a swig, then slid it to me.
I did the same. “Well, it’s been a hell of a year. I can hardly believe how much has happened since we filmed those scenes. Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”
“Ten lifetimes.” Doris breathed out. Then her face softened. “But we are all here. Together. It’s a miracle.”
“I wouldn’t want to relive that year ever again,” Alice said.
“But I also will always look back on it, and instead of remembering the worst parts, I’ll remember you three and how you took care of me.
You got me through this. Every single day of it.
When I wanted to quit, you wouldn’t let me.
When I was too tired to fight, you fought for me.
When I forgot why I was doing this...” She paused, her voice catching slightly. “You reminded me.”
Doris’s eyes filled immediately.
“We’re family,” I said simply. “That’s what we do.”
“I know.” Alice smiled, and it was real and whole and hers. “And I’m going to be here for a long time to keep doing it with you.”
We all reached forward, gripping each other’s hands.
“So,” Marge said, clearing her throat and breaking the emotional tension.
“Now that that crap year is behind us and Alice is done trying to die on us, what do you think? When we get back, we’ve still got those wishes from last year to pull out of the freezer.
Are we ready to go on our next adventure? ”
“Maybe give it another month,” Alice said, lightly touching her wig. “Let my hair grow back a bit more. Our wishes can get a little wild, and I don’t want to be hanging on to my wig while we’re doing them.”
I laughed, an image flashing into my mind of Alice soaring over a volcano, screaming that she was losing her wig.
“Another month sounds perfect,” Doris agreed.
Marge gave a sharp nod. “One month. Then we start it all over again.”
I looked at the three of them—my widows, my warriors, my family—and felt the weight of the year settle and lift at the same time.
We all took turns sipping the whiskey, laughing as we regaled each other with our adventures in Bertha.
“Well, should we head off to the party?” I asked, pushing up from my seat. “Could take us awhile to get there with traffic and the fact we’re driving a house.”
“Yeah, we should go.” Alice rose after me.
The four of us stood on the printed carpet of that RV that had carried us through everything, and my insides swelled.
“I love you, ladies,” I said simply.
“We love you too,” Doris said, reaching out to touch my hand.
Alice did the same, her smile saying the words for her.
“Well, I love you all a lot, but most importantly, so does Buck!”
Marge grabbed a squealing Alice, pulling her into a hug that lifted her off her feet. Then Doris crashed into them, and then I did, the four of us tangled together in an enormous RV that had become a permanent fixture in our lives.
When we finally pulled apart, Marge propped her hands on her replica Colts. “Alright, enough of this mushy crap. We’ve got a party to go to, autographs to sign, and then when we get home, wishes to plan.”
“Just nothing that’s going to kill me,” Alice said. “I didn’t survive everything I survived this year just to die in the dirt in the middle of nowhere during one of your harebrained wishes.”
Marge grinned. “No promises. You’d better grow some hair fast. I’m itching for more adventure.”
Alice glared at her. Then her face lit up like a bulb had appeared over her head. “You want a little more adventure?”
Marge scoffed. “Have you met me?”
A smile tipped Alice’s lips. “What if I offer you a compromise? We hold off on the big wishes another month or two, but you promise not to do anything life-threatening.”
Marge rubbed her chin. “What’s in it for me?”
“Instead of heading back to Wilder Lane after tonight, we road-trip back to Louisiana.”
Marge’s eyes lit up. “I’m listening.”
Alice looked at us. “If everyone is open to the detour, I’d like to go visit Rip. Get some of those 3D nipples tattooed on now that my implants have settled. You girls in?”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Marge pumped a fist. “In!”
Doris and I nodded enthusiastically.
“We’re in!” I said.
“And the spouses? Think they’ll mind?” Alice asked, peering out the window at the four of them laughing about something, probably us, as they often did.
Marge grinned devilishly. “They’re in. They aren’t gonna say no to this plan, because…” She waited, and we all laughed.
“Because I have the cancer card.” Alice tapped the corner of her head and burst into more laughter.
“Powerful business!” Marge grinned back. “Now let’s go tell them we’re heading to Louisiana after this! Gotta get me some more grits and then get some nips! And I need another tat!”
We opened the door and called in the spouses. Tom raced to the driver’s seat despite Marge’s protests, and all of us piled into the familiar space. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I looked around at my people.
My husband. My best friends. My ridiculous, beautiful, impossible life.
We’d survived another year. Another adventure.
And we were ready for the next one.
Together.
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