Epilogue Harriet
Epilogue
Harriet
A tree twinkles in the corner of Nic’s parents’ living room, casting low light across the crocheted stocking hanging from the fireplace mantel. Under it sits a small pile of wrapped presents Nic and Sara brought for their parents to open later. The room is small, but there’s real love here.
From the kitchen comes the sounds of arguing—Sara and her mom, bickering about how to best prepare the lobster for the Feast of the Seven Fishes.
“Hey.” Nic comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses my cheek, and my heart tugs, as it always does for him.
“Hey,” I say softly. I sink into him and nuzzle my nose into his neck.
“Gogo and Vicky should be here soon. And”—he hesitates—“your mom.”
I stiffen. My mother and I haven’t spoken much since Sara’s release; I moved out about a week after and in with Vicky and Gogo. Partly because I want to be able to spend however much time Gogo has left with her. But if I’m being honest, I also want to keep an eye on Vicky.
She’s still talking about turning herself in—telling me after one too many drinks that she can’t live with the knowledge that an innocent man is in jail in her place.
I keep reminding her that Luke Dalio is decidedly not innocent. He was going to spend the rest of his life in prison anyway for murdering poor Barbara Patterson, who was only trying to do the right thing.
But it doesn’t seem to help. I’m hoping with enough time, her guilt will fade, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
I spin so I’m nose-to-nose with Nic. “Why is she coming?”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Harriet. She’s your mom.”
“In name only,” I mutter.
When I told her I was moving out, she didn’t understand. In fact, she totally lost it. We ended up in a huge fight, me finally saying all the things I’d never said. About my lonely childhood. About how she always made me feel like I didn’t matter.
We haven’t spoken since.
“You’re the only family she has,” Nic says. “Otherwise, she was going to spend tonight alone.”
What he says reminds me of Ruth Carter, all alone in her big house at the edge of the ocean. Spying on the neighbors. Lonely and bitter.
Is that how I want my mom’s life to turn out?
“I guess,” I say. Nic’s taught me so much about forgiveness and family, but he also doesn’t understand how complicated it is with my mother. Not really.
Sara walks up to us with two glasses of white wine.
“You want?” she asks with a shy smile. Since getting out of jail, she’s taken over most of Nic’s responsibilities at the catering company, which has allowed him to enroll in some classes online at the Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts.
He’s currently taking a couple courses on sustainable culinary practices, and he loves it.
I take a glass. “Thanks.”
There’s a knock on the front door, and Sara’s head jerks up.
“I’ll get it,” she says, hurrying to answer.
Steven, Martin, and Maggie are on the other side. Maggie’s holding a bouquet of flowers. She smiles at Sara.
“I brought these for you,” she says. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
Sara’s cheeks flush red. She seems to have developed a bit of a crush on my friend.
I suspect it’s mutual.
They all come inside, talking over one another as they settle around the room.
My mom, Gogo, and Vicky arrive a short while later, Gogo clutching Vicky’s hand like a life raft.
Her memory has been slipping even faster these past few weeks.
Now, there are times she’ll forget bigger things: names, places, how to get home from the supermarket.
It’s breaking my heart apart piece by piece, but I am so grateful to be here with her.
And I am so glad I didn’t pursue that job with Humans.
I’m still trying to figure out that part of my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to journalism. If I do, it won’t be at a place like that.
In the meantime, I’ve been working part-time at the library, and believe it or not, I sort of love it?
I don’t know if I’ll stay there forever, but for the time being, it’s perfect.
Mindy and I have become great friends. I was there for her when things turned sour with the hot doctor she met during her hospital stay.
I know she’ll find the right person someday soon. There’s no one who deserves it more.
I manage to avoid my mother until we’re about to sit down for dinner.
She catches me on my way out of the bathroom. “Harriet,” she says. “Hello.”
I don’t want to do this now. Or ever. The only thing I’ve ever wanted from her was to love me, and that was always too much to ask of her.
“Mother,” I say, wondering if I can edge around her and escape.
She looks down at her feet. “I…I wanted to say I am sorry.”
I must have misheard. “Excuse me?” I ask.
Her mouth dips into a frown, but it disappears quickly. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I… My therapist—”
I blink. “Excuse me,” I say again. “Your what?”
She ignores this. “My therapist and I agreed that I owe you an apology. So I am sorry. I should have been…” Her fingers tremble as she fidgets with the collar on her oxford shirt. “Better. To you. So I’m sorry.”
I’m silent.
“Okay?” she asks impatiently.
“Sure?” I say, not sure how much I mean it.
She winces. “I’m not good at this. But if you’re ever willing to sit down and talk about things, maybe with my therapist there too, I would be very grateful. For the opportunity.”
I’m at a loss for words.
“Please, Harriet?” she whispers. She looks so small, so sad. My heart pulls.
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah, we can do that.”
Her face relaxes. “Thank you. I… I’ll see you at the table.” She hurries into the bathroom and slams the door, leaving me to stare at it with wonder.
We’re almost through dinner when there’s a knock on the front door.
“Are we expecting more guests?” Mrs. Allbright asks from the head of the table. “I thought we were all accounted for, but…”
Nic’s on his feet. “I’ll get it.” He disappears into the living room.
A minute ticks by, then another.
“Where is he?” Sara asks finally.
I shrug. “I’ll go see.”
Steven and Martin exchange a small smile. “We’ll come too,” says Steven, throwing down his napkin on the table.
“Me too!” Maggie says with a level of enthusiasm I don’t quite understand.
“I can handle it, you guys,” I tell them.
“I’ll come too,” Sara says, standing with a smirk.
I blink at them. “What—” I shake my head. “Okay? Sure.”
I’m halfway out of the room when the scrape of chairs against the hardwood floor stops me. A backward glance tells me that now everyone is up and out of their seats.
They’re following me.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask Maggie. She’s paused next to me, wearing a giant grin.
“Nothing,” she says, and Steven elbows her. “Just go, Harriet!”
I give her a weird look. “Fine,” I say and walk into the living room.
Nic’s standing by the open front door. Next to him are Mindy and my dad and Cindy.
Nic smiles. “Harriet.” He licks his lips. “Hey.”
“Hey?” I say, wary all of a sudden. Why is Mindy here? Why is my dad? I don’t care if it is Christmas, Nic should know better than to gather my parents under one roof. Especially now that Cindy is (shudder) pregnant.
“Hey,” he says again, glancing around at the crowd. “I…actually, um. Would you be up for going on a little walk with me?”
“But we’re in the middle of dinner?”
Maggie nudges me. “Harriet!” she hisses.
“What?”
She motions with her chin to Nic. “He has something he wants to ask you,” she says, widening her eyes.
Something he wants to ask—oh.
Ohmygod.
My heartbeat kicks up. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
Is he…
“Harriet?” Nic asks.
“Um, right. Sure. Yes. Of course.”
Maggie squeezes my arm, and I walk over to Nic. The room is quiet, so quiet, like everyone’s holding their collective breath, like they all know what’s about to happen.
“We’ll be right back,” Nic says.
As soon as we’re through the door, I hear the room break out into loud whispers.
Nic quickly shuts it and turns to me. “I thought we could walk down to the beach?”
“Okay.” My voice sounds shaky. He takes my hand, and I realize it’s slick with sweat.
I don’t want to get my hopes up about what’s happening.
Maybe he just needs some fresh air. Maybe he wants to watch the sunset.
Maybe he suddenly decided he wanted to feel the sand under his toes.
Maybe my dad showing up was random, and he’s giving me an escape from whatever the hell my parents are about to get into.
That would be just like him, so sweet and thoughtful and kind.
I could be wrong about what I’m thinking, I could be, and if I am, that’s okay.
It really is. I know it would be fast. Hell, if Maggie or Steven told me they were engaged to their partner after only three months of dating, I’d tell them they’d lost their shit.
But everything about us has been fast. Fast and amazing and so, so right.
Sometimes you just know. And man, do I know.
Even though I’m technically living with Vicky and Gogo right now, I spend almost every night with Nic, and waking up next to him has quickly become my favorite thing.
Seeing him in those early morning hours, studying his face, listening to his soft breath.
I’ve fallen so deeply in love with him, in a way I never really knew existed outside of rom-coms and fairy tales.
I would give anything to spend the rest of my life with him. Wake up next to him every single day. Have kids with him—
“Harriet?”
His voice cuts into my rolling thoughts. He stops. We’ve reached the stairs up to the path that runs parallel to the dunes. Beyond them is the ocean.
“Are you okay? You’re being awful quiet.”
I nod, but I am so, so not okay.
If he doesn’t ask me tonight, I’m going to ask him. I’m not waiting because of some antiquated patriarchal rule. I’m a human person! I can take charge.
“Are you good to go out to the beach?”
“Sure,” I manage, my voice awfully small for someone raging about feminism inside her head.
The sun dips low into the sky as we hit the sand, painting the sky with reds, oranges, and deep burgundy. Nic’s hand is warm in mine.
“Do you wan—” I start to say but cut off when he stops abruptly.
And then he sinks down to one knee.
Holy shit. I was right. This is happening.
This is happening.
“Harriet Baker,” he says. “You are the most frustrating, stubborn, opinionated woman I have ever met. But you’re also deeply loyal, incredibly intelligent, and funny as hell.
I love you. I love you so much that I can’t imagine my life without you in it.
I know it’s only been a few months since everything that happened, but here I am…
” He swallows. “So here I am, wondering. Harriet, will you be my wife?”
In his outstretched hand is a little blue box.
Everything about this moment is perfect: the roar of the ocean behind me, the cool wind brushing against my cheeks, the man in front of me.
Especially the man in front of me. He’s seen me at my most stubborn, frustrating self and loved me for it instead of despite it. He’s given me a place that really feels like home for the first time in my entire life.
I’ve never loved someone more.
“Yes.” I manage to get the word through the thickness in my throat and out into the salty air. “Of course I will.” I tug him back to his feet.
He rises, reaching down to brush off his pants, but as he does, I launch myself at him.
“I love you!” I say as we tumble to the ground together, landing in a pile of limbs. I straddle him, peppering his face with kisses. “I love you I love you I love you.”
He’s laughing, his arms wrapped around me. “I love you too. Do you want your ring now?”
“No.”
His face falls. “No?”
“No, I mean, yes. I do. But I want to say something first, if that’s okay?”
He nods.
“Nicolas Allbright, you are by far the best person I’ve ever known. You make me want to be a better person. I was a fool back in high school not to immediately lock you down, and I’m lucky that you stayed single long enough for me to realize my mistake.”
“I stayed single because I compared everyone to you.” He says it quickly, like he’s embarrassed by his admission. His admission that just might be the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me.
I can’t help it; I’m crying now. “See?” I wipe at my nose. “This is what I was talking about. You’re amazing. Also, I will have you know that on the way here, I decided I was going to ask you to marry me if you didn’t do it first.”
He laughs. “Well, I’m glad we were on the same page.”
“We were. We are. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
” I lean down and kiss him, our mouths meeting, his tongue pushing into mine.
A moment ticks by and then another as our kiss deepens, my roaming hands finding his waist, ducking under the hem of his shirt to his bare chest. I press myself down against him, my fiancé, my future husband, the man of my fucking dreams—god, do I want him—
Then, to my great disappointment, Nic pulls back, clearing his throat. “Uh, Harriet, as much as I love what we’re doing right now, there are children”—he gestures down the beach—“watching. Can we put this on hold until later tonight?”
“I suppose,” I grumble, but I’m smiling down at him.
“Good.” He kisses me one last time, and then I climb off him.
He doesn’t move.
“What are you doing?”
He pulls himself up to his knees. “The first time around, I didn’t get to put the ring on your finger properly…so here we go again.” He opens the box. Inside is a ring, one that I recognize.
Gogo’s wedding ring. She doesn’t wear it anymore; it no longer fits over her aging knuckles, and honestly at this point, it’s probably for the best. There’s a high probability that she would lose it.
Tears build in the corners of my eyes. It’s a gorgeous piece of jewelry and one that’s so meaningful.
“Gogo wanted you to have it.” He slips it over my trembling ring finger. “She said she couldn’t think of a better place for it to end up.”
“You’re amazing,” I whisper.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Harriet Baker,” he says with a smile.
He wraps his arms around me, and suddenly, I’m home.
THE END