Epilogue
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Iunlock the door, turn on the lights, and walk to the back of the store with steps that now feel familiar, immediately switching on the coffee machine before even taking off my coat.
First things first. I pause for a moment in front of the picture of my mom and Liz next to the coffee machine, smiling.
The spliff photo. It was the first thing I brought here.
I drink the first cup in front of the computer, answering emails, then the second while packing new orders from the online store.
It’s one of my favorite moments of the day—one of many—placing a handwritten note to each and every customer, thanking them for shopping at Liz and June.
Another favorite is wrapping their order in silk paper and sealing it with a Liz and June sticker.
Like most days, it goes by fast, and I’m tired but happy when I wave the last customer goodbye.
I can’t wait to be back, but now Christmas is waiting, which means a couple of days off.
I’ll miss the store, but the thought of celebrating my first Christmas with Benjamin is making me happy in a way I’ve never been before.
I feel like a child again, counting down the days to Christmas. It’s a wonderful feeling.
Mom and Clara will fly in the day after tomorrow, and I can’t wait.
It’ll be their first time here, and I’ll finally get to show them Pearlband Beach.
I love this town in summer, but let’s just say it doesn’t disappoint in winter either.
The first snow has fallen and tucked the small town under a white blanket, and Main Street is decorated with holiday lights.
I soak in the beautiful sight for a minute before I walk to my car.
I stop on the porch when I hear the muffled sound of Frank Sinatra’s “The First Noel”.
A warmth rushes through me even though it’s a cold December evening, and I watch the door for a moment.
On the other side is the man I love more than anything in this world, making me dinner and voluntarily listening to Christmas music for the first time in his adult life.
In less than three days, we’ll be spending our first Christmas together. The first of many, I hope.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Benjamin: Are you standing on the porch again?
Me: Maybe . . .
Benjamin: There are s’mores inside . . .
I yank open the door, and a warm brush of air hits me filled with the smell from something stomach-fluttering delicious.
“You made a beef stew?”
Benjamin emerges from the kitchen with a dishcloth thrown over one shoulder and a look on his face I can only describe as a look of affection.
How is it possible that I evoke that look on him?
The chilliness on my skin from outside disappears immediately when he cups my face and kisses me like we haven’t seen each other for years. God, I love this man.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my hair.
“I’ve missed you,” I murmur back as goosebumps erupt all over my arms. “You really have s’mores?”
“Yes. I’ve made a fire.”
“I need to text Clara.”
“I’ve already done that.”
I love how much my boyfriend and my sister have come to like each other. “What did she say?”
I hear the smile in his voice. “She demanded we do it again the moment she gets here.” I chuckle. Yeah, that sounds like my sister. Then I realize something and look around. It’s weirdly quiet.
“Where are the dogs?”
Benjamin pulls back reluctantly. “At Margot’s.”
“Was she fine with that?”
“Over the moon, actually. She was the one requesting it. To be exact, she asked for two dogs and a bag of cronuts. Apparently, she’s binge watching the last season of Sons of Anarchy tonight.”
“Huh.” I think for a moment. “So that means we’re alone tonight?”
“It does.”
I can’t hold back my smile. “Well, then I have an idea for what I want for starters,” I say as I slowly back for the bedroom.
A small smile tugs at his lips while his eyes are pinned on me. “I hope it’s not garlic bread.”
I laugh when he scoops me up from the floor and marches us to my bedroom.
Several hours later, when we’ve finished his amazing dinner and are seated on the couch in front of the fireplace—me busy stuffing my mouth with s’mores—he turns to me.
“I have something I want to ask you.”
I swallow. “You have?”
He nods, looking nervous all of a sudden. I frown. “What is it?”
“I want to ask you to move in with me.”
My head whips around. “What?”
“I know you love this house, and I think you should keep it. You’ve done beautiful things to it.
You can use it when you feel tired of me or when you need some time alone, but the thought of waking up together every day in our bed, in our house is just .
. . I don’t know, a Christmas dream? I would really like to share a home with you. ” He gives me a bashful look.
I consider his words. We’ve spent every single night with each other since we left New York together, except for two nights when he was taking his dad to the doctor. I know I won’t get tired of him. I want to spend every second of my day with him.
I look around the small living room. This is the place that took care of me when I needed it the most, the place where I felt safe when my life was upside down, the place that offered me a home.
And as if he can read my mind, he says, “I understand that it’s not an easy decision.
I know you love this house. We really don’t have to rush anything. ”
I nod slowly. “Yes, I love this house, and I’m so thankful for everything it’s done for me but .
. . the thought of sharing a home with you, having my name next to yours on the mailbox is .
. .” I take a deep breath, blinking away some heat behind my eyes.
“It exceeds every expectation I ever had in life.”
A surprised smile on his face makes my heart feel like it’s about to explode. “So, it’s a yes?”
I return his smile with one of my own. Maybe my biggest one yet. “It’s a yes.”
We beam at each other to the sound from the crackling fire, me and my person. Me and my home.