40. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
ETHAN
S ix months later.
“Pass the oysters this way,” Jill yells out over my loudmouth brothers, who can’t decide between the lobster bisque and the salmon chowder for their grand opening next weekend.
It’s lunchtime, and we’re crowded around a long high-top table in the center of the newly renovated Four Oysters in Charleston.
“Why can’t you do both?” Andy asks, passing the oyster tray to Jill.
“They can have both, but there needs to be a special of some kind, at least for the first few weeks. Something on brand,” Kinzie pipes in, taking a seat between Andy and me. Her cream-colored dress is wrinkled, but nobody seems to notice. Nobody but me, and that’s only because I may or may not have pulled it off her and balled it up into my fist an hour before we arrived. It wasn’t my first attempt at using my wounded shoulder, but it was definitely the first in which it didn’t give me pain.
“On brand? Then shouldn’t they go with something more like Oyster stew?”
“Oysters would be overkill,” she replies. “But I like the idea of a stew rather than a heavy chowder.”
Logan and Carter look from Kinzie to each other, and in unison, they say, “Salmon.”
“Oh, thank God. Now that we’ve got that settled,” my mom says, rolling her eyes, “have the two of you chosen a date?” She’s talking to Tessa and Derrick, who are sitting near Jill. She knows better than to ask us. Kinzie wants to finish the renovations at the farm before we start talking about our own wedding. She’s always dreamed of having her wedding there, so I’ll remain as patient as I can while secretly pushing our contractors to quicken their pace.
Tessa beams. “Not a specific date, but we’re aiming for late summer. I have a few projects to finish up, and then we’ll take an extended honeymoon.”
My mom coos, and Kinzie’s mom joins in from where she’s sitting between Tessa and Ramon.
“Do you have a venue? We can do it here,” Ramon says, his eyes lighting up “Think twinkling lights under the moon, with the water lapping against the dock. Jill and I can create the perfect drink menu.”
Kamilla laughs. “Don’t get him started. The whole thing will be planned out by the end of the night.”
Over the next several hours, conversation continues, and we eat to our hearts’ content and our stomachs are full.
When Beckett, who’s been giving Carter the cold shoulder since she arrived, gets up to use the washroom, Carter conveniently disappears, making it pretty clear that there’s something going on between them.
Logan converses with Kamilla, and for a few brief moments, my brother smiles.
Jill fills us all in on Peter’s legal troubles. He pled guilty to pandering when her lawyer and the district attorney came together and threatened to chop off his political balls.
“What does that even mean?” Andy asks.
“It means they promised not to attack his character in front of the cameras in return for his testimony.”
“I still don’t understand how he got himself caught up in all that.” He grimaces.
“Money. It always boils down to money.”
The conversation eventually turns to Mateo Hernandez. Derrick, we’ve learned, is from Texas— not Seattle—where that last warehouse fire took so many lives.
“I couldn’t say no to Mateo, or he’d kill me,” he says. “So I agreed, though I’d already garnered support from the Department of Justice.” He smiles at Kinzie’s mom, who smiles right back at him.
Derrick met Kinzie’s mom five years ago, when she booked a therapy appointment with him. She told him right from the start that she worked for the Department of Justice. That she’d been surveying Mateo and his movements for the last several years and that intel had gotten to her that he was looking for a therapist. That the name Oliver Newman appeared on Mateo’s calendar and that he’d better be prepared for his visit.
“You have to earn his trust. Build a relationship with him. And then we can start recording his visits.” She promised she’d do everything in her power to keep him safe as long as he did exactly what he was told. They worked together for two years before the warehouse went into flames.
Derrick grasps Tessa’s hand. “The first time I met Tessa, after Audra suggested a fake marriage. I thought, This isn’t going to be fake. I’m really going to marry her one day .”
The women around the table ooh and aah, even Kinzie, who’s probably heard the story more times than I have.
When my phone buzzes, alerting me of the time—yes, I set my alarm—Kinzie turns to me.
“We should say our goodbyes if we want to see Maggie,” I say, dragging the pad of my thumb over the smooth skin of her arm.
Kinzie drops her attention to the phone and nods.
When we enter Sunny Meadows, Connie, Kinzie’s favorite nurse, rushes over and hugs her. “I hear congratulations are in order.” She gushes over the pink sapphire ring on Kinzie’s finger. “Did you take pictures? I hope you took pictures.”
Kinzie’s eyes sparkle. “We have pictures. Lots of pictures.”
They laugh and giggle and scroll through a few dozen pictures of our three-week boat trip up the East Coast and back, where I finally popped the question.
But by the time we make it to Maggie’s room, the mood shifts.
Kinzie braces herself when we step into the room. She does this every time we visit. Sometimes Maggie is happy to see us, even though she has no clue who we are. Other times, the confusion is too much, and she gets upset, demanding we leave her alone.
Kinzie doesn’t allow this to prevent her from visiting anymore. She understands the need for love and affection, and she knows that not every visit will look the same.
“Ezra,” Maggie says, looking straight past Kinzie. She’s sitting in a wheelchair next to her bed, the black and white photo sitting on her lap.
I arch my brows and point at myself.
Maggie takes in a deep breath and reaches out to me.
Without thinking twice, I go to her and clasp her hand. If I have to be Ezra for the night, then I’ll be the best damn Ezra I can be.