Epilogue
I wake up alone in my bed and for exactly three seconds, I panic.
Today is the day I marry Vincenza Sorrentino.
The panic quickly transforms into something else entirely when I remember with relief that I’m not on call.
Nothing is going to interrupt our wedding.
I feel a mixture of anticipation, disbelief, and the kind of certainty that only comes from knowing I’ve found the person who will soon make my minimalist house feel like home.
I sit up, running a hand through my hair, and look around my bedroom. Still sparse. Still practical.
Still mine. But after today, it becomes ours.
The thought makes me grin like a love-sick fool.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Austin: You better not be getting cold feet.
Me: I’m a firefighter. My feet are always warm.
Austin: That’s the worst joke you’ve ever made.
Me: Winnie thinks I’m funny.
Austin: Winnie thinks you’re funny-looking. Get to the station by 8. The guys are making breakfast.
Me: I can make my own breakfast.
Austin: Not on your wedding day, you can’t.
I shake my head, smiling. The crew has been unbearable for the past two weeks—hovering, planning, and making sure every detail is perfect because apparently, I can’t be trusted to help organize my own wedding.
Winnie finds it hilarious.
In reality, it’s both annoying and deeply touching, but I’ll never admit that out loud.
I dress in jeans and a flannel—the suit comes later—and head to the station.
On my way there, I drive past the cemetery and pay my respects.
“Today’s the day, Dad. Wish you were here.”
But he’s not and he won’t be. At last, I’ve made peace with that.
When I arrive at the station, I’m immediately ambushed by the smell of bacon and the sound of Hayes singing off-key in the kitchen.
“Is that supposed to be the wedding march?” I ask, dropping my garment bag on a chair.
Handsome spins around, spatula in hand. “It’s my interpretation. You like it?”
“It’s terrible.”
He presses his hand to his chest. “You wound me, Maverick.”
Austin appears with coffee, already dressed except for his jacket. “Morning, groom. How’d you sleep?”
“Fine.”
“Liar. I texted you at two a.m. and you responded immediately.”
I take the coffee, refusing to dignify that with a response.
Scotty emerges from the equipment room with Oreo, wearing a bow tie that matches the wedding colors—silver and navy blue. “The dog is part of the ceremony. Winnie’s idea,” Scotty explains in his usual gruff manner, before I can ask.
“Ring bearer,” James adds, appearing with a plate of eggs. “Though we’re concerned about the logistics. What if he eats the rings?”
“He won’t eat the rings.”
“He ate an entire Crush Cake last week.”
“He has good taste.”
We eat breakfast together like it’s any other day—the crew, Captain Leyton, who drove out from Carson City, and Oreo, who definitely gets more bacon than he should. The conversation flows easily with the kind of ribbing that comes from years of running into fires together.
“You nervous?” James asks, likely recalling his wedding day.
“Nope.”
They all stare at me.
“I’m serious. Why would I be nervous?”
“Because you’re getting married,” Hayes says. “That’s literally the most nerve-wracking thing a person can do.”
I squint in his direction. “More nerve-wracking than the warehouse fire last month?”
“Way more. In a fire, you know what to do. In marriage—?” He shakes his head. “Uncharted territory.”
“You’re twenty-four and single,” James points out. “What do you know about marriage?”
“I watch a lot of movies.”
Scotty grunts, which I’ve learned to interpret as, Hayes is an idiot, but we tolerate him.
Several hours later, we’re all in suits, and I have to admit—we clean up pretty well.
Austin straightens his tie in the mirror. “You have the rings, right, James?”
James pats his pocket. “Got them.”
“Third time you’ve asked,” I mutter.
“Fourth, actually. You asked twice at breakfast.”
“Did I?”
“You’re more nervous than you’re letting on,” Austin observes.
Maybe I am. Not about marrying Winnie—that’s the easiest decision I’ve ever made. But about everything else. The vows. Making sure today is perfect for her. Not crying in front of the entire town when she walks down the aisle.
“Speech ready?” Hayes asks.
“I’m winging it.”
They all look horrified.
I grin. “Kidding. I have notes.”
“You wrote notes for your wedding vows?” Austin’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Winnie makes lists. I make notes. We’re perfect for each other.”
“That’s actually kind of romantic,” Hayes admits.
“Don’t get used to it.”
I put on my suit jacket—navy blue, perfectly tailored, the same color as my dress uniform but civilian. Winnie helped me pick it out two months ago, insisting I needed something that made me look less like I was about to attack a fire and more like I was about to get married.
I think it’s the same thing, honestly. Both require courage, commitment, and the willingness to jump into something bigger than myself.
My mother gave me my father’s watch and it hugs my wrist. I stand there for a moment, feeling the weight of it. I’ve grown accustomed to life without him, but I could use his steady presence today, of all days, even more so than when I graduated from the fire academy.
“Wish you were here, Dad,” I say quietly.
Austin appears behind me in the mirror. “He’d be proud. You know that, right?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Come on.” He claps my shoulder. “Time to go get married.”
The ceremony is at the small chapel in the village.
It’s been here since Huckleberry Hill was founded and the reception is at Crush Cakes, which the crew transformed yesterday while I was conveniently “distracted” by Austin insisting we needed to check on what turned out to be a non-existent equipment issue.
But first, being Maverick, I insist on sliding down the brass pole at the old firehouse one more time to check on the reception setup.
“You’re going to wrinkle your suit,” Austin protests.
“Then I’ll press it.”
“We don’t have time—”
But I’m already sliding down, landing in the main bay that’s been transformed into something out of one of Winnie’s Pinterest boards.
White lights are strung everywhere and flowers spill from elegant arrangements. Tables and centerpieces surround the dancefloor in the main bay. The dessert station features both grandmas’ brownies, displayed side by side in a permanent truce, along with Crush Cakes in the wedding theme colors.
But the head table stops me.
Captain Kendrick’s photo sits in a place of honor, framed in silver. Next to it, my father’s formal firefighter portrait. Both men in their dress uniforms, both smiling at the camera, both gone too soon.
“You guys did this?” I’m wrecked.
Scotty appears beside me. “Winnie’s orders. But yeah, we helped.”
I can’t speak. Can only stare at the photos of the two men who shaped my entire life.
“They’d want to be here,” Austin says quietly. “So we made sure they were.”
James hands me a handkerchief. “You’re going to need this later, anyway.”
“I’m not going to cry.”
“Sure you’re not.”
We drive to the chapel in the engine—also Winnie’s idea.
I should’ve seen it coming, but couldn’t be more pleased.
The whole town lines Main Street on this winter’s day, cheering as we pass.
Silver Sam and Buttercup, Lucky Donahoo wearing his dealer’s visor, Gail Clearwater waving sage (from a safe distance), families I’ve helped over the years, kids who came to the Fire & Ice Fest.
Our town.
The chapel is small, intimate, exactly what we wanted. LED candles twinkle in the windows, and I can see people already gathering inside.
My mother waits, and she immediately pulls me into a hug that threatens my composure.
“Your father would be so happy,” she whispers.
“I know, Mom.”
“Winnie is special. You take care of her. And let her take care of you.”
“I will. Promise.”
Inside, the wooden benches in the chapel fill up with friends and family.
The crew members who aren’t groomsmen arrive with their wives and dates.
Peony and James look happier than they have in months.
Good thing too, because they’re both in the wedding party.
Captain Leyton from Carson City. The town folks who’ve adopted Winnie and me as their own project, along with Silver Sam, Lucky, and Mayor Barbie, wearing something spectacularly sparkly.
Thomas from Parks & Rec stands by with Gus, aka Hayes, since Cody, the usual mascot, had a basketball game. Mindy flirts with Fabrizio, Winnie’s brother, who’s serving as a groomsman.
Pauline dabs at her eyes even though nothing has happened yet. Beside her, Geraldine from the library looks stern with tissues already in hand. In the front row, Judy Waples and Joyce sit side by side, friends for the day.
We take our positions at the front—me, Austin, Scotty, James, Reese, and Fabrizio, who keeps tugging at his collar.
“Relax,” I tell Winnie’s brother. “It’s just a wedding.”
“Just a wedding? My sister is marrying a firefighter who runs into burning buildings for fun. This is stressful.”
“I don’t do it for fun.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Reese leans over. “What if you mess up the vows?”
“He won’t,” Austin says firmly.
“What if he cries?”
James grins. “He will. It’s fine.”
“What if—?”
James says, “Breathe. She loves you. You love her.”
He’s right, but my stomach swoops like I crested a mountain switchback too fast.
“Maverick.” Scotty’s voice cuts through, reminding me who I am.
I nod, taking a breath, glancing at my father’s watch, the crew at my back. We’re a team. We’ve got this.
The music starts.
My heart stops.
The doors at the back of the chapel open, and Oreo trots down the aisle wearing his bow tie and carrying a small pillow with the rings tied to it.
He makes it halfway before getting distracted by Mayor Barbie’s sparkly dress, but Grandma Joyce redirects him with a treat, and he completes his mission.