Epilogue
Noah
Students will be able to make the right choices for the right reasons.
Next August
I dropped the papers on the kitchen table in front of Shay without explanation.
She didn’t glance away from her laptop which was not surprising seeing as she was sliding into back-to-school mode.
Though she didn’t admit it often, she was nervous about making the move to first grade permanent. “What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s a divorce filing.”
She snapped her head up. “A what ?”
I rested my hands on the back of the chair in front of me. “A divorce filing. Specifically, a filing to dissolve our marriage.”
Shay rested her chin on her upturned fist. Her hair was back to strawberry blonde after letting it fade through the winter and spring. I couldn’t explain why I liked the pale, subtle pink so much but every time I caught sight of it, I thought, There’s my girl.
“And why do you want to dissolve our marriage, husband?”
It didn’t matter how many times that word crossed her lips, it still hit me just as hard as the first time. “You don’t need to be married anymore.” I set another stack of documents on the table. “The title arrived yesterday. You’re the owner of the Thomas Twins Farm now.”
She paged through the documents. A grin pulled at her lips. Her face really was made for smiling. “I see.”
“We don’t need to keep doing this,” I said, “if you don’t want to.”
“Hmm.” She continued reading. “I know it sounds like you’re doing me a favor but I’m also wondering if you’re just itching to get my endless construction project off your books. Wash your hands of all things tulip and curse the day you attempted to bring my whimsical flower world under your reign?”
“If the past eight months have proven anything, it’s that the whimsical flower world belongs to you and I have the privilege of pouring money into it indefinitely.”
I couldn’t call progress on the wedding venue slow.
That would imply any amount of progress had occurred, and things hadn’t gotten moving until the middle of May due to Twin Tulip’s proximity to wetlands and new requirements for climatization and efficiency.
We were rolling along now but our timeline was all kinds of fucked.
We didn’t have a date for a grand opening or a soft launch.
We didn’t even have a date for when we could safely assume most of the work would be complete.
It was a lot more than we’d bargained for but the interest was already overwhelming.
The website for the Thomas House Gardens crashed the week we launched it.
The marketing crew were up to their elbows in media requests and brides begging for bookings.
We had to post signs at the turnoff for Twin Tulip announcing that the site wasn’t open to visitors yet.
It was a nightmare but it wasn’t a bad nightmare. Unsettling, maybe. Exhausting. Expensive . But it was the kind of nightmare that would work out for us in the end. If we could ever finish building the damn thing.
Gennie liked to refer to the project as a shitshow with flowers and I didn’t want her to be right about that.
She was doing better in school these days.
It was still tough and there were times when she fell into her crusty old pirate ways, but she was making good progress in therapy and getting more specialized support for her ADHD.
She was finally finding her way and it never stopped amazing me.
She gave field hockey a try this past spring. Who would’ve guessed she’d enjoy wielding a stick and running around in a mask while yelling her ass off? Shocking.
Gennie discovered a second passion in musical theater which also involved running around while yelling.
Shay liked to remind me that the yelling was actually singing though I was still attuning myself to the difference.
Gennie was a munchkin in the high school’s winter production of Wizard of Oz and then an orphan in a middle school’s spring production of Annie .
She’d offered to clean the chicken coops indefinitely if it meant she could attend two four-week-long theater day camp sessions this summer.
Last month, she was a stray dog in The Aristocats and tonight she was playing the role of a lifetime—one of Captain Hook’s pirates in Peter Pan .
This was the first time she had lines in addition to singing with the company, and she hadn’t stopped reciting them to herself for weeks.
Jaime, Grace, Emme, and Audrey—the unofficial aunties—were driving down from Boston to attend Gennie’s opening night.
“Then you figured this would be a good time to end it?” she asked. “Clean break? The girls can just pick me up and take me home with them?”
I watched as she turned another page and ran her index finger over the words as she read. The strap of her sundress lolled down her shoulder, just begging for me to fix it. Her earrings were in the shape of pickles and they were completely ridiculous. I loved everything about them.
“I want to give you a choice,” I said. “You didn’t really have one the first time around.”
“I had a choice,” she said, her gaze still locked on the documents.
“City hall without any of our friends or family present? If you had it to do all over again, you’d choose that? A twine ring and a high five to seal the deal?”
“I’d include Gennie,” she said. “I liked the ring. You know that.” She gave a single shake of her head as she turned to the next page. “The lunch we had afterward was amazing. I’d do that again.”
“I’ll take you to lunch any time you’d like,” I said. The school year was several weeks away and I already missed having her around during the day. “As I’m sure you’re aware, wife.”
“Bonus points if you wear a suit again. That did some nice things to me. It gave me some feelings.” She pointed a finger toward her lap. “Some spicy feelings.”
“Wearing a suit,” I said, “gave you spicy feelings.” I was half convinced she was fucking with me. She had to be fucking with me. There was nothing sexy—or spicy—about wearing a suit in the height of the summer heat. “I mean, if that’s what you want, I’ll do it but—”
“Noah.” She folded her hands on the documents and looked up at me, her teacher stare firmly in place.
“You could’ve told me to remove your tie with my teeth that day and I would’ve asked you where to put it when I was finished.
You are devastating in a suit. Even more than you are in rolled-up sleeves and jeans that make me want to bite your bum. ”
I could feel the heat crawling up my neck and into my ears. I pointed at the document. “Decide if I’m divorcing you today. Okay? Thank you. We’ll talk about what you can take off with your teeth later.”
“Will I be doing it later or only talking about it?” She shrugged. “I just want to plan accordingly.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “What do you need to plan?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced to her phone. “Are you aiming for before Gennie gets home from camp or after her show tonight? Or in between? Do we need to sneak off somewhere? Will I need to protect my knees? Will I have to cover up beard rash later? These are the things I need to prepare for.”
I shoved both hands through my hair. This wasn’t going as I’d intended. “Read,” I said, motioning to the document again.
“Someone has his bossypants on,” she said under her breath.
“Shut up, Shay,” I snapped.
“All right, all right.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she read.
A couple of months ago, her silence would’ve rattled me. I would’ve interpreted it as true consideration of the document I’d drawn up. But now I knew she was mine.
Strange, beaded earrings could be found on nearly every surface of our room, and her toys—plus a few additions—were housed in the middle drawer of my nightstand.
We shared a home and a bed, and along with Gennie we learned how to be a family every day.
I didn’t believe I’d ever feel prepared to parent my niece to the level she required but now I didn’t feel alone in that struggle.
As per Gennie’s request, Shay and I went on dates just about every week though we didn’t get too far.
Thomas House had the exact number of beds we required and the ideal amount of privacy too.
The complete lack of children down the hall was a powerful aphrodisiac.
I couldn’t think of any better date than allowing my wife to be as loud as she wanted and then taking her to the oyster bar for a drink and as many tiny appetizers as she could eat.
“I don’t want another wedding,” she said eventually. She turned over the final page and gathered the papers, tapping them against the table. “It wasn’t perfect by any classical definition but it was perfect for us.”
“Even the high five?”
She nodded. “I planned the perfect wedding once. I did everything right. Every last inch of it. But a perfect wedding does not translate to a perfect marriage—or even a good, healthy marriage.” She pushed the divorce papers across the table.
“Sorry, Noah. You’re stuck with the high-five and twine-ring version of me. No divorces, no do-overs.”
“Well, shit.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and glanced around the kitchen. “What the hell am I going to do with this?” I set the small box on top of the divorce papers. “Since I’m not allowed a do-over.”
She stared at the box for a long moment. “Noah,” she whispered.
“Tell me, Shay. What should I do with it?”
Shocking the absolute fuck out of me, Shay stood up and walked out of the kitchen.
This time, I was rattled. I didn’t know where I’d made a wrong turn.
I thought we were teasing each other, just snipping and poking the way we always did.
But she’d left . Was I supposed to follow her?
And say what— Sorry about trying to replace the twine with a precious metal ? I didn’t see how that was right.
As quickly as she’d exited, she was back—and she set a velvet box on the table beside the one I’d presented. “If I had it to do over again, I would’ve thought to bring something for you,” she said. “I felt terrible that I didn’t.”
I brought a hand to the back of my neck. “You don’t need to worry about—”
“But I do,” she said. “That’s my part of this deal. I’m the one who thinks about what you need while you’re busy thinking about what everyone else needs.” She nudged the box toward me. “Open it.”
“You first,” I said, nudging the other in response. “I’m not negotiating with you on that. Do it or I’ll hold you down and do it for you.”
“While that is a compelling offer—” The hinge creaked as she pushed back the lid. “Noah, how did you—” She glanced up at me. “How is this real?”
It was a slender bow of platinum studded with tiny diamonds. Though it wasn’t an exact replica of the twine ring, it came damn close. “A local artist designed it from a photo I took of the original.”
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I love it. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
I plucked the dainty ring from its box and slid it down her fourth finger. “It’s only partially for you. I was tired of everyone in town asking when I was going to get you a ring.”
“Anything to get the villagers off your back,” she teased, reaching for the other box.
My stomach hit the floor. She ran her thumb over the velvet before meeting my gaze.
“I never expected this crazy plan of ours to go anywhere but I should’ve.
I should’ve known from the start that it was the furthest thing in the world from fake.
I’m so thankful that my life fell apart and sent me back here to get it right.
To get you for good this time. So.” She pried open the box, revealing a thick band with a thin rope detail around the middle.
Just like twine. “I was going to give you this on our anniversary but since you want to divorce me—”
“All I want is for this to be your choice,” I said.
I grabbed her by the waist and sat her on the table, stepping between her legs.
“I intend to keep you for all of your tomorrows but I don’t want to keep this marriage unless it’s the one you want.
We can do it all over. Throw a party and invite all of our people.
Or invite no one at all. We can end this and start fresh without the pressure of the estate and—and everything else that you went through.
I want our marriage to be your choice and not a last resort. ”
She reached for my hand and settled the ring onto my finger. “You were never a last resort.” She traced a finger over the band and a smile pushed at her lips. “Jaime would’ve been my last resort.”
I dropped my head to her shoulder as laughter shook through me. “I love you so fucking much, wife.”
“And I love you so fucking much, husband.”
* * *
Thank you for reading!