Epilogue
Five Years Later - Ara
A MORE PERFECT morning couldn’t exist. Contentment falls over me as I take in the way the early morning sun shines off the snow, evergreen trees sagging with the weight of the most recent fall. We’d spent all night playing in the freezing cold, watching our breath puff out while we sipped on hot chocolate.
You’d think we were all ten years old in the way we frolicked, diving into mounds of snow and sledding down the nearby hill. But what else could you expect from a group of Floridians visiting a snowy state during Christmas?
We came—the whole lot of us—to celebrate Christmas and Theo’s birthday, surrounded by the white heaven. Half of us had never seen it, let alone felt it, even though a few of us have crossed the threshold into our thirties (I choke on the word).
Lou and I found this log cabin on Airbnb and knew it’d be perfect. Secluded, almost no cell reception, surrounded by forest and snow this time of year. Somewhere we could all recharge. Evie, Brooke, and I never get off our phones, managing all the moving parts of our endeavors. Theo needed a break from checking Goodreads, though I don’t know why he bothers. I can’t remember the last time his books weren’t on one bestseller list or another.
And nobody will recognize Ryder and Connor. I roll my eyes, recalling the smug look on Connor’s face when we couldn’t get through the Tampa Airport yesterday without someone squealing. Thankfully, none of that will happen all the way out here.
Pretty soon the others will wake up, and if we’re lucky, Brooke will make us pancakes before we head outside for another day in the snow.
Something about it feels…happy.
The envelope is soft in my hands as I trace the familiar handwriting, the letter which was written for my happiest of days. There’s been so many of them these past few years, I’ve almost opened it more times than I can count. The small rip on the left-hand corner is proof from the last time I’d gotten close. Resting a hand over my navel, I wait for a second opinion, smiling when the little bump happens from my growing belly.
Open it , he seems to say.
Today is a day where I can’t imagine life getting any better than it already is.
Glancing at Theo from where he sleeps off last night’s festivities, AKA getting shitfaced and playing Cards Against Humanity until the wee hours of the morning, I decide that now is the perfect time. Carefully sliding my finger under the seal, tears form at the backs of my eyes as the letter slides free.
If you’ve never lost someone you love, I’d consider you lucky, because you wouldn’t understand how the smallest of things, such as how a slight curl to the letter ‘y’—unique to their handwriting—can hollow out your chest.
You wouldn’t understand how seeing silver party streamers at a party can remind you so thoroughly of what you lost. You wouldn’t understand how a silly little birthday card can become one of your most prized possessions. You wouldn’t have to replay a video of their laugh over and over, because it’s as close as you can get to the real one, and it’s one that you never want to forget.
Wiping away my already flowing tears, I unfold the letter, careful to keep it out of the splash zone.
Dear Ara,
If you’re opening this letter, it means you’re happy. Happier than ever. I’m not sure what your life is going to look like by now, but I know it’s beautiful.
The thing about happy days is you’re never going to know which one will be the best day of your life until you reach the end of it. By then, you forget the little details that made it so. You’ll remember being happy, that’s no doubt. But you’ll likely forget exactly how the warm breeze felt on your skin, or how the cupcake crumbled when you bit into it, or how your tummy ached when you laughed.
So, on this happiest of days, I want you to look around, and take in the smallest of details. Commit this wonderful time to memory, because it could be the best day of your life. As always, it’s hard for me to consider that I might not be there on the one you’d believe to be yours, but I want you to know that you were there for mine.
Thankfully, I still remember how the chlorine smelled as we played in the pool, eating watermelon between games. How you’d stand on my back and pretend I was a surfboard, carrying you through the ocean. How you’d scream in the little blow-up canoe and pretend you were adventuring through white water rapids as I tossed it around the pool.
You convinced me that I could do anything that day.
And that memory is what carried me through my worst ones.
I’ve written a letter for that day, too, but hopefully you never have to open it.
So go out there, focus on those joyous details and remember them, if not to outweigh the bad ones, to tell me all about them someday. When we meet again.
I love you, Ara.
I miss you so much it hurts.
Love, Dad
Ugly sobs break down the door in my mind and escape from my body. The sort of noises you’d expect from an overheated French bulldog is as close as I can get to describe the shit I’m going through right now, effectively waking up Theo. A hand goes straight to his head as he sits up, the poor dude totally hungover, waking up to my swollen face, covered in snot.
Marriage is not for the weak.
“Did you watch another one of those animal rescue videos?” His voice is gravelly with sleep, and I sympathize with the man, having to deal with this before he gets the chance to fully wake up. “Pregnancy hormones? Need nachos?”
His sleepy rambles make me laugh. “Not this time.”
I hold up the letter.
Theo’s lips tug to the side, giving me the slightly sadder version of my favorite half smile before he opens his arms and I curl up next to him. Theo rubs my back as he waits for my sniffles to subside. “What’d it say?”
I pass the letter to him, and while keeping an arm wrapped around me, he reads the letter out loud. By the end, his throat threatens to close, gripped by emotion. Theo is the only other person who truly understands what cancer stole from this world when it took my dad.
Theo drops his hand, tracing over my tattoo with his fingers. “Just think, when you see him again, you’re going to have so many stories to tell.”
The thought warms my heart, despite its aching. “I’m going to tell him the story about how you got in the wrong Uber and ended up in New Jersey instead of the book signing in Times Square.”
“Okay but what were the odds that there was another Theo getting picked up a little ways farther down the street!?”
“High. You were in New York with like a billion other people.” I smile, remembering the call I received, the one and only time I’ve had the pleasure to witness Theo freak the fuck out. “But I’ll also tell him that I found the courage he knew was there all along. I’ll tell him that I chased after my dreams.”
Theo nudges me. “And you succeeded .”
We sit there a minute, letting our thoughts wander to the man who, even after death, helped us find our happiness. Find each other.
“What do you say we go downstairs and notice all the details?”
“What a day to do so.” I giggle, knowing Theo won’t be the only one hunting for fast-acting Advil.
In fact, I might be the only one who isn’t sporting a vicious migraine. Well, besides Willow, Evie and Ryder’s little girl. The only thing she and I got white-girl-wasted on was hot choccy.
Theo helps me out of bed, throws on a shirt, and leads me to the stairs. With every step, I take in every single detail, starting with how Theo’s hand feels in mine.
Brooke
My phone vibrates, a smile forming on my face as I take in the selfie my mom sent from New York. Her partner, Jeff, surprised her with a trip to celebrate their two-year anniversary early, so they could still catch the cold weather and the buzz of New Year’s Eve.
Jeff had visited the diner she worked at every week for a year, before he finally got the courage to ask her out. Mom had thought he just loved the pie, but turns out, he loved her. He’s a good man. Successful. Kind. And he makes her laugh.
Seeing her happy again…I shake my head, clearing the emotion out of my throat.
“Is that another selfie from your mom?” Connor’s voice is hoarse from the laughter of last night.
Another smile creeps onto my face at the memory of how we all drank, even me, and let our hair down. “Yeah. She sent a picture of her with the breakfast buffet in the background—again—because she wasn’t sure we could see all the different types of croissants last time.”
Connor chuckles. “I’m glad they’re having a good time.”
“Me too.” I hadn’t wanted to leave my mom alone on Christmas, so when Ara and Lou first pitched this trip, I wasn’t sure we’d make it. But then Jeff ran the New York trip by me, and I thought it couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Want to know what I brought for the Christmas Potluck?”
“Ara banned you.” I frown. “You know you’re not allowed to participate.”
“And you aren’t supposed to have your phone on this trip.” Connor winks. “But rules are meant to be broken.”
My heart skips a beat, unable to resist his antics any more now than I could six years ago when this idiot walked through Target with me.
“I have a proposal.”
I lift my brow, remembering exactly how our arrangements usually go. “Oh?”
“If you wrap up the gift I got and turn it in under your name, I won’t tell the girls that our room gets perfect cell service.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Connor grins. “I would .”
“You know that I need my phone in case Marcy needs me.” Evie lets me borrow her sometimes when we put on big community events at Ziggy’s Kids. The yearly Christmas celebration is one of those times, where we have a huge tree, music, cookie decorating, and presents for every child. Marcy is there now.
Ever since we received an anonymous donation five years ago, we’ve been able to help the community more than ever. I’d walked into my office one day to find stacks of duffel bags, filled with cash and no explanation. Because of that donation, we’re able to offer shelter, safety, and healing to children and teenagers who deserve a path that doesn’t lead to addiction.
“You don’t have to lose your phone…Lou and Ara never have to know.” Connor drops his mouth to mine, teasing and loving. “As long as you go along with the genius plan I’ve been concocting since I was banned.”
“Can I at least know what will be inside?”
He weighs it for a moment. “Yeah, nahr. That won’t be half as fun.”
Having no other choice, I concede. “Fine.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Connor grins, his wild joy bringing butterflies to my stomach. “Now, go take a look out the window. It’s bloody gorgeous out there.”
Moving to the window, I take in the beauty of the outdoors from the safety blanket of our cozy room. The others love the cold, but I’m partial to the warmth these days, the feeling of sunshine that reminds me of a certain little sister who was the bottled-up version of it.
As the rays bounce off the snow and warm my face, I close my eyes, feeling her presence here, even surrounded by the cold. She may be gone in the physical sense, but not a day goes by where I don’t feel her.
Genevieve would have loved it here. She would have loved this trip. And she would have loved these people. I know that she loves it for me, now, in the same way that she loves Jeff for our mom.
My phone vibrates again.
Melinda: Where the fuck are you, Mija? I need help in the kitchen.
Guess the cell service also reaches the kitchen just fine.
After two years of convincing, Melinda has finally agreed to overcome her aversion to people and meet my friends. Today is the day it happens, and she’s putting her best foot forward in the way of food, which just so happens to be the key to all of their hearts.
I snuck her in last night, after everyone was asleep, so she could scope it all out in that scrappy way of hers, before meeting them when they were still half drunk and barely awake, giving her the upper hand.
“Melinda needs me in the kitchen.”
“We finally get to meet the elusive Melinda.”
I grin. “You might regret insisting she come.” But having her here, that huge part of me that belongs to my best friend in the world is what makes this trip complete.
“I know very well the kind of person it takes to win you over. I’m prepared.”
Glancing at the man in front of me, who I sometimes wonder whether he’s made of bottled sunshine too, I know he’s right.
It was Genevieve’s handiwork that put Melinda in my path. And then Connor, a man with a heart of gold, who was also stubborn and determined enough to melt the ice that’d solidified around mine. Who helped me find a sense of happiness and freedom I’d never known.
“You still make me crazy,” I tell him, the way I do every day.
Connor pulls me close. “You know I’ll never stop.”
Ryder
Ara and Theo are already in the living room lounging on the couch, Theo nursing a headache as Evie and I come down the stairs, Willow trailing behind us.
No sign of Lou yet, bringing a smug smile to my face. “Where are the others?”
“Brooke and Connor are in the kitchen with Brooke’s mystery guest.”
“Is that why it smells amazing down here?” Evie asks, taking a deep inhale.
“That’s what I’d guess, but I can’t confirm.” Ara sighs. “Brooke won’t let us in the kitchen yet. Something about the masterpiece not being complete.”
Evie snorts. “Has Lou come down yet?”
“Nope, but there’s no surprise there.” Ara smiles as she carefully looks at each one of us, memorizing the moment. I can’t help but do the same.
“She should have known I can still drink her under the table, even on school nights.”
After Willow went to sleep last night, the rest of us stayed up playing dumb ass card games before Lou got it into her head that fatherhood has dulled my edge.
Naturally, I had to prove her wrong.
It may be apple juice for the most part nowadays, but I can still knock back a knuckle of whiskey like no other, thanks to half a lifetime of conditioning. Ara watched on, the only sober one, catching way too much of our laughter on video. Tonight’s activity should be watching it back, though my stomach is still sore from one night of stupid laughter. I’m not sure it can take another.
We may be adults, but I think we’re aging backward.
Evie lifts Willow onto her hip, drawing my attention. We named her after the tree, a symbol of new life that can thrive even in the harshest of conditions. People say she looks like me with her almost black hair, but they don’t notice the hazel eyes and upturned nose that are all her mother. The way she can strip you down with words, even as a child, and leave you questioning things you’ve believed your whole life. She’s brilliant in ways I never expected a four-year-old could be. Evie nurtures that terrifyingly fiery side of our daughter so beautifully, and I thank God every day for the two girls who are my home.
Ara perks up as Connor and Brooke join us in the living room. “Do we finally get to meet this mysterious friend of yours?”
“Trust me, she’s not that mysterious, just paranoid and antisocial.” Brooke rolls her eyes. “But yeah, she’ll be out in a minute. We should move to the dining room.”
We do as she says, shuffling toward the great big wooden table at the center of the adjacent room. The walls are made of windows, letting us take in the full scope of the winter wonderland waiting just outside.
A moment later, a Latin American woman, carrying a dish that smells of heaven, joins us. “I hope you all like arroz con huevos. ”
Connor claps. “Finally, an addition to this group who can actually cook!”
“Excuse me.” Brooke smacks his shoulder. “My pancakes are renowned.”
“Yeahr, but you can only live off pancakes for so long…”
Their banter fades to the background as I become frozen in place. The woman sets the dish in the middle of the table, everyone throwing introductions and welcomes at her. She looks different now, fuller and healthier, hair much longer than the last time I’d seen her.
But I’d never forget her face.
It’s the one that still haunts me, despite the years of healing. I never learned her name, was never brave enough to ask for it. Walking over to her in a daze, I rest a hand on her shoulder and clutch my chest.
“Uhh… hola .” She awkwardly taps the back of my hand before looking to Brooke for help. The one thing I’ve never been able to forgive myself for is pushing the button that led to her losing her life. Yet here she stands.
Evie’s eyes fill with tears, the only one besides Brooke who pieces my reaction together. All this time, I’ve wondered how Brooke had forgiven me when I’d played a part in her best friend’s death. But now she’s here, alive and whole. And that last remaining piece of my soul that has been held hostage can finally be free.
“Sorry, I uh–” I shake my head, overcome by emotion.
“It’s okay, I remember you.” Recognition flares in her eyes as she holds out a hand. “But we should meet again, no?”
I nod, taking her hand in mine. “I’m Ryder.”
“ Mi nombre es Melinda .”
“Are pregnancy hormones contagious?” Connor whispers to Ara from somewhere behind me and I laugh, just as Lou’s sluggish steps warn us of her impending arrival.
“Is it just my hangover talking or does something smell divine ?” Lou steps into the dining room holding the glass of water and bottle of Advil I laid out for her. “And how’d y’all get Uber Eats to deliver all the way up–”
Lou drops her glass, letting it shatter across the floor, but she ignores the yelps and cries of surprise that go up around the room as her crystal blue eyes fall on the woman in front of me.
Melinda smirks, fire dancing in her gaze. “ Hola .”