Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
LAYLA
Christmas Eve dinner is fantastic. Sausages, sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, and hard rolls from the German bakery, all of it smothered in curry gravy. It’s filled with memories, and I can’t help but smile at every bite. Nana would love this is the only thought that dims my joy.
As delicious as the food is, the company is better.
Owen and I are back in York, Maine, staying with Miles’ parents in the house Rheta gifted them for their many years of service. It’s the house Rheta received as a wedding present from her parents. She kept it even after her husband built the big house closer to town.
It’s large, but homie, unlike the gargantuan castle where Rheta still lives. Rheta invited us to stay with her, but Marianne and Miles were married last month and they asked us to stay with them, Brady, and Miles’ two daughters and their husbands here at the cottage .
They were all kind to allow for my German Christmas Eve dinner traditions. It’s honestly been the most fulfilling family Christmas I could ever wish for, and it isn’t over yet. We still have the nativity and carol singing. Tomorrow we’ll head up to Rheta’s cabin for a Christmas party.
Rheta invited all of her family for Christmas, but we were the only ones to come. Tori is stuck in New York because she doesn’t want to be far away from Sadie, who is spending the holiday with her ex and his new wife.
Spencer is in a new relationship with an oncologist who is on call this week. From what he’s said in the few texts we’ve exchanged, things are going well with her. How well things can go when they both work sixty-hour weeks is hard to determine, but he’s happy, and that’s all I want for him.
Miles stands to clear the table of dishes, but both Owen and I insist he sit down. The man should have at least one day off from taking care of everybody else. Owen and I carry the dishes to the kitchen ourselves. He rinses and packs the dishwasher while I put away the food.
“Has Christmas Eve been everything you wished for?” he asks.
“It exceeded expectations.” My smile falters for a second. “I miss Nana.”
Her dementia has grown worse, and she seldom recognizes me, but she’s well taken care of. Under the circumstances, it’s the best I can hope for.
Owen comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. I lean back against him. No matter where we are, his arms feel like home. His beard rubs against my cheek as he kisses the corner of my lips .
“We’ll visit Nana as soon as we get back and bring her sausage.”
“It’s called blutwurst.”
“I know. I just like hearing you say the name. It’s sexy.”
“Only because you don’t know the ingredients.”
He nibbles at my ear. We might never leave this kitchen if he keeps carrying on like this. I push him away with my elbow. “Get back to work.”
He plants a kiss on my lips before returning to the sink. “Did you notice how many applications were submitted yesterday?”
“I haven’t looked since we arrived. How many?”
“Nine. Your foundation is doing good work.”
“Our foundation,” I remind him. The foundation we set up with his inheritance from Rheta and a chunk of money he made from selling Boudron. Its purpose is to help those who struggle to financially support family members living in residential care. Every month when we disburse payments, I’m giddy with joy. We are doing good things.
Owen is on the board, but he has also begun practicing law with a non-profit part time. It gives his life purpose to help others, and he enjoys lawyering more when the goal isn’t to make rich men richer.
When the kitchen is clean, we meet back in the living room for carols. The family is talking and laughing. It’s everything I imagined a family Christmas to be. And we are family. Owen’s step-sisters have been welcoming to Marianne and her sons. Susan and Malcolm treat me like their granddaughter. Before dinner, we took a family picture with all of us in our matching pajama bottoms. I picked the pattern this year: cows wearing Santa hats. Sadie would love them, which is why I sent a pair to her and Tori in New York.
I’m about to sit at the piano when Owen takes my hand and stops me.
“Before we sing carols,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. They quiet in record time. “It’s time for our annual pickle finding competition.”
“Really?” This is news to me.
“It’s not annual if we’ve never done it before,” Brady points out.
“Our first annual pickle finding competition,” Owen amends.
“What’s the prize for finding it?” Brady asks.
Owen winks at me. “A kiss.”
“Eww.” Brady’s face scrunches with disgust as only a fifteen-year-old’s face can. “That’s not motivating.”
Owen shrugs. “Then you get the satisfaction of knowing you have the best eyesight of everyone here.”
Brady frowns. “Also not motivating.”
“Is it a real pickle or an ornament?” I ask.
“An ornament. No using your nose to sniff it out this year.”
I slap his stomach with my hand. Mmm. He’s warm and solid, and I keep my palm exactly where it is. “I didn’t use my nose last year.”
He smiles. “Prove it.” Once everyone has gathered around the tree, he calls out, “Go!”
Regretfully, I drop my hand from his abs and begin my search. I’m one hundred percent focused on winning that pickle prize. No one will steal my kiss.
Something sparkles in the tree, reflecting the shine of the white Christmas lights, and draws my eye. And there, next to the sparkle, is the green pickle camouflaged by tree boughs.
“I found it!” I call out as I grab the ornament. The something sparkly comes with the pickle. They seem to be tied together.
It takes a second for what I’m seeing to make sense. It’s a ring. A white gold solitaire diamond engagement ring. Simple but beautiful. My mouth drops open. I turn to see everyone has disappeared into the kitchen, but for Owen. He’s down on one knee.
“Layla, I love you. More than I ever imagined was possible. You bring a joy and purpose to my life I didn’t know was missing until I found you. Will you go through this life with me by your side, be the mother of our children, the person who I wake up next to every morning and kiss every night? No matter what comes in our future, I promise I will never leave you. I will never take your love for granted. I will always see you, cherish you, love you.”
I remember the wish I made last Christmas the night Spencer proposed his crazy plan.
I wish to be happy in my marriage.
I know I will be. Mom and Opa are looking down from heaven, so happy for us, as I take Owen’s hand and pull him to his feet. I see our lives together stretching out before us, our good times out weighing the bad, because we have each other.
“Yes.”
I kiss him with all the love and devotion I feel, and those feelings are reflected back as he kisses me. We don’t pull away until family applause breaks through our happy haze.
I lay my head on his shoulder. “I love you. ”
“I love you. Merry Christmas.”
If you’re wondering if Tori has a happy-ever-after, then you are in luck!
Thank you for reading Her Counterfeit Christmas ! I hope you enjoyed Layla and Owen’s love story!