Epilogue
Cienna
One Year Later
“It’s going to be the most splendorous day,” a little voice sang from down the hall. “Splendorful and splendidly and magicaaaaaaal.”
As I passed her room, Abigail was dancing around, twirling, falling dramatically against furniture, and curtsying toward her vanity.
Stifling a laugh as I slid by to the bathroom, I applied my raspberry lipstick with a pucker and a smack at my reflection in the mirror.
Her happiness had always been contagious.
Glancing back down the hallway, I smiled harder as she spun around with her fox in her arms, humming happily. A princess could only sing for so long before adding her animal sidekick.
I turned back to the mirror, adjusting my straps and doing a final smoothing of my hair, when the familiar spring of the bed and plop sounded from Abi’s room, and her sweet voice picked up again.
“Okay, Cheeto, today is a really big day. There will be dresses and dancing and cake and all of my special people.”
Abigail’s grief therapist told us that a lot of children expressed their feelings through special loveys or imaginary friends. Cheeto had become Abi’s confidant, and I’d heard many beautiful conversations between her and her favorite little critter.
“Do you like my dress, Cheeto?” The shuffling of tulle reached my ears through the thin walls.
“Cici and I went to the fancy store, and I picked it out. I even went into the sparkly dressing room and got to spin in the mirror like a real princess.” She let out a happy sigh, and I matched it with my own, remembering our day at Lovely Ladies.
My steps were quiet back down the hallway, not wanting to disturb her if she was still finishing her conversation, but she had set Cheeto down beside her.
Her dress spread out around her, the poor fox nearly buried in the cushions of her mother’s old bed, the main piece of furniture we kept when Abi asked to move into her mother’s old room.
At first, we struggled with what to do with all of Caroline’s belongings. We replaced most of the furniture, donating the old pieces to the local Women in Crisis center, but Abigail insisted we keep the vanity and the hope chest, and, of course, the bed full of pillows.
With the addition of her stuffed animals and pillow pets, it was hard to find space when we tucked her in at night. Reed grumbled, but I knew deep down he was happy to see Caroline’s throw pillows among all of Abi’s favorite comfort items.
Several boxes of Caroline’s belongings remained in the closet for Abigail to occasionally dig through for treasures and memories, but the room was mostly filled with Abigail’s touches, like unicorns, pandas, and kitties wearing capes.
Abi caught me sneaking peeks and gasped, bouncing off her bed to usher me in. “You look so beautiful!” Her enthusiasm carried me away as we joined hands, twirling and dancing on our toes. “We are the most loveliest princesses in all the land,” Abi declared.
I nodded in agreement, then pointed at her feet. “Did you pick out your shoes?”
She darted to her closet and pulled out her pink-and-blue checkered Converse sneakers.
“That’s quite a fashion statement. I love it.
” This girl had been paving her own way through first grade in true Abigail style since day one.
Her eyes grew big, and she gasped, “Wait! There’s more!
” She dug in her dresser, the top drawer dedicated completely to socks, pulled out her pandas-with-bow-ties socks, and held them up proudly.
“Perfect pairing.” I applauded and then checked my watch.
“Okay, sweet pea, what are we doing with your hair? Are you going full-on hot mess express, or did you want me to braid it?”
Her grin was infectious as she zipped to her vanity and picked up the finishing piece of her ensemble. She turned, her eyes bright and cheeks bubbly, as she placed a sparkly tiara on her frizzled red hair. “Ta-da,” she sang with a curtsy, and I curtsied back, making her giggle.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she shouted over her shoulder, running to the door. I walked out to the living room in time to see Abi opening the door, letting Bethany in. Bethany gave me a quick wave and then gushed effusively over Abigail’s dress, as any grandmother would.
After receiving hugs and curtsies, Bethany approached me with a cursory hug.
Reed slowly welcoming her back into his life, Abi’s life, had done wonders for our little bubble, expanding the village a little bit as we navigated the parenting thing.
“Where’s my ornery son?” she asked, looking around the room.
“Ahem.”
I turned to find the most delectable view. Reed stood, unknowingly doing the sexy doorframe lean right in front of his mother, nearly melting my insides. I must have sucked in an audible breath because Bethany patted my shoulder.
“He’s always looked so handsome in a suit. I’ll show you pictures sometimes.”
He gave her a little smirk and a side hug. “Hey, Mom.” Then he turned to me. “And hello, gorgeous.”
The way he looked at me almost made me forget we weren’t alone. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in for a quick kiss, then turned all of his attention to the prettiest girl in the room.
Abi’s eyes twinkled as bright as her tiara as he scooped her up and spun her around.
With her still in his arms, he faced his mother and me. “I’m the luckiest guy ever. I get to dance with these perfect princesses tonight.”
This year, the special person’s dance, chaired by none other than Jill and Elaine, had a prince and princess ball theme.
Of course it did.
But when else were you going to find an excuse to wear a tiara as an adult? I didn’t hate it.
Reed, Abi, and Bethany opted to meet me at the venue since I had a few pre-dance duties to attend to.
And as people flooded through the doors, I looked for the flickers of bright red curls in the crowd but couldn’t find my people.
Jenn, however, sprung up to me in an oddly cheerful fashion, considering she despised these events. “You ready, boss lady?”
I nodded, disappointed I hadn’t spotted Reed yet, but followed her to the podium.
Jenn messed with the microphone, then waved me over before stepping to my side.
“Good evening, everyone,” I spoke into the mic.
“If you haven’t met me yet, I am Cienna Vilotta, your new school principal.
I am thrilled to get this wonderful night started, but first, I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the amazing women who planned all of this.
” I gestured around the room, a real and true smile on my face. “Jill, Elaine, come on up.”
They were close to the stage and met me at the top easily. “This event is becoming one of my favorite Aisling traditions, and I want to thank you both for an outstanding job.” The room lit up with cheers, nearly double the attendance from last year.
In perfect form, Jill eased herself in front of the mic, and I stood back. “Thank you, thank you.” She bowed graciously to her fans. “We’ve come a long way since last year.”
At her words, irritation zipped through me, but it dissipated quickly with the reminder that I may not have been on this stage tonight, starting off this event as the new school principal, if it wasn’t for the annoyingly persistent but very effective ways of Jill Trumaine.
Last year, at this same event, we’d come to some sort of understanding. She realized I’d been an advocate for her daughter’s love for reading, a love that helped her child through a tricky divorce, and from there on, I was off her shit list.
As obnoxious as it can be, feeling like reliving high school days all over again, trudging through the politics of parent-teacher relations, I had to admit that having Jill in my corner made all the difference in my career.
Jill single-handedly started a campaign in my favor for principal, including cute buttons for parents to wear to show their support, and a largely signed petition she presented to the board of trustees.
I chewed my cheek as Jill continued, “And we look forward to making this event better and bigger for the years to come.”
Elaine stepped up to the mic to say, “Let’s get this party started,” and the DJ queued up “Let’s Get It Started” by the Black Eyed Peas, a perfect segue into the evening.
Kids and parents danced all around me as I walked through the dance floor, the shortest route to the table of my friends in the back.
I parked myself in the seat between Lucy and Darcy, trying hard not to collapse in relief from my blip of public speaking.
The absolute only part of my new job that I loathed.
Lucy patted my knee and handed me a fizzy drink. “You did good, Principal Vilotta.” I went to roll my eyes at her but then remembered that wouldn’t be the most professional look as a role model. Instead, she got my side-eye and giggled into her own glass of what Jenn coined “fake-ass champagne.”
Darcy leaned in and whispered, “She’d be proud.”
I tilted my head into hers, then heard another voice in my other ear. “I agree.”
I swung around in my chair and nearly spilled out of it.
I hadn’t seen Karen in months, not since she retired and moved.
And gosh, was she a sight for sore eyes.
The last time I saw her, she was hugging me tight outside of the Aisling School’s Trustee Meeting, where she fought for me as her predecessor, not letting up, not taking no for an answer.
She held her granddaughter, decked out in the sweetest ruffly dress imaginable.
“You came!” I hugged her, trying not to squish the baby.
“Of course I came.” She squeezed me back. “I should hope I’m one of your special persons.”
“Very, very special.” I stepped back, a happy tear pooling in the corner of my eye. “Thank you.”
“Speaking of special people,” Darcy interrupted, “is that Abi’s grandma?”
Across the room, Bethany found a seat near the dance floor. She placed her clutch on the table and sipped her drink like royalty. “Yeah, that’s her.” I shrugged, curious why she was sitting alone. “Have you guys seen Reed or Abi?”
Darcy gave Lucy a weird look. “I think he said the pizza was here and he was grabbing it.”
What the fuck? Pizza?
“Wait, we didn’t order pizza.”
Jill would never allow that. I had to stop her from having the event catered by Four Seasons. I panicked. Just when I thought the night would be flawless, I had to deal with this crisis before it got out of hand. No queen-bee tantrums on my watch.
I turned and swiped my head back and forth, no longer looking for my people, but seeking out Jill before it was too late. That was when I saw the flash of auburn.
The two most favorite people in my world stood on the empty dance floor, pizza boxes in hand. My tummy fluttered, and not because it was hungry for pizza.
Reed’s eyes glinted with love and mischief and something more… nerves? Next to him, Abigail nearly wiggled out of her stance, her eyes wide like she had a secret that would burst through her at any moment if she didn’t get it out.
As I approached, Reed mouthed, “I love you,” and I realized then that there were hundreds of people surrounding us, most watching us. But when I said the words back to him, there was no one but the three of us.
Reed nodded to a note on the pizza box. “Read it.”
I grabbed the folded paper and took in the words.
My Cienna,
I know you hate big, public attention. But Darcy threatened my life with a variety of sharp objects if I didn’t plan a grand gesture.
I giggled, peering over at the table where Darcy sat.
My best friends and my mentor sat with hearts in their eyes, watching me closely.
I figured if I have to humiliate you, you might as well get pizza out of it. I know the saying, “Feed me and tell me I’m pretty.”
I glanced up at him. The shining in his eyes turned to gleams, and I had to look back down not to get choked up seeing him so earnest.
From the moment I met you, I knew you were someone special, someone I needed in my life, someone to keep. We’ve already survived so much together—parasailing, a custody battle, big promotions, grief.
I wiped a lone tear.
You have shown me so much love, bravery, fun, and all of the sweet things I didn’t know I was missing. You, my love, are the pineapple on my pizza. The tangy, sweet fruit that fits perfectly with my cheesiness. I love you.
I looked up to Reed, the tears in his eyes matching mine. He mouthed the word “Open.”
I tucked the note in my dress pocket to keep forever before stepping forward and opening the box slowly, the smell of yummy, gooey deliciousness wafting over me.
Sure enough, there was pineapple on it. Little bits forming the letters that took my breath away. “Marry me?”
I covered my wet face, nodding and jumping into Reed’s arms. Bethany stepped up from behind me and grabbed the box of pizza so he could sweep me off my feet and spin.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I repeated quietly in his ear.
The space around us started to make its way back into my reality.
There was clapping and cheering and a short stint of “Rienna” chanting from my girl gang.
Reed placed me back on my feet, and I held his face.
I needed just one semiprofessional, PG-friendly kiss.
It was quick, no nibbles, no tongue, but when our eyes met, there was a promise behind them for more to come.
A little tug on my dress drew my attention from Reed, and I knelt to hug Abi.
Rather than leap into my arms to celebrate, she held out a pink confectioners’ box.
“Open this one,” she squealed, ready to pop any second.
I opened it slowly, Abi peeking over and into it, her fuzzy curls tickling my forehead. Inside was an Abberloni, and plopped on top, secured in the chubby donut ball, was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen: a rose-gold fleurette with a band encased in tiny diamonds.
Abi squealed, “It’s so pretty, wear it!”
I took the box from her before it flew out of her hands. Ignoring the stickiness of the icing as I picked it up, I slid it on my finger.
Then I grabbed my girl, picked her up, squeezed her, and spun her around, exactly like her uncle had just done to me.
Reed scooped the two of us into his arms, music began to play, and our little bubble swayed together.
Somehow, the pastry box ended up in Reed’s free hand, and before I knew it, a dollop of frosting was booped on my nose.
Abi giggled as I shot daggers at Reed. Then, with a shrug of finality, I blew him a kiss and whispered in his ear, “Just wait until I get my hands on the wedding cake.”
The End.