Epilogue
NEXT CHRISTMAS EVE
NATALIE
The sleigh skids a little on the compact snow as Frankie brings the donkey to a stop.
The short ride from around the corner where Dad and I got out of his fully heated car hasn’t been as chilly as I anticipated. The thick cream-colored velvet cloak over my dress and the long veil are warmer than I expected.
And thankfully Mabel didn’t fart once.
People had said Gabe and I were bonkers to plan an outdoor wedding on Christmas Eve, but so far, it’s worked out perfectly.
A snowstorm last night coated everything in a pristine white blanket that glitters under this afternoon’s bright, cloudless sky.
Before I’ve even gathered up my dress enough to set one foot out of the sleigh, Dad has already leapt out .
“I’m coming,” he says as he scurries around the back. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
He appears at my side, holding out his hand.
My gut had told me that I really wanted Aunt Lou to give me away since she’s probably been more of a parent to me than either of my actual parents, and I’m way closer to her.
But I don’t want to hurt anyone. And although I might have learned a whole load of lessons about easing off on the people pleasing, and worrying less about what anyone thinks of me, my parents would definitely have been hurt if I’d made that decision.
The last thing I want is for me or anyone else to have any bad memories of today. I want to be able to look back on this and know all the right choices were made, that everyone was happy and had the best time possible. And that the day was filled with nothing but love and joy.
Aunt Lou appears next to my dad in the beautiful deep red dress and warm, dark green wrap made by Elsie, the Senior Central resident who was one of Diane von Furstenberg’s tailors back in the day—she likes to keep her hand in.
This was the compromise I came up with to make sure we are all happy—Dad gives me away, Aunt Lou is my maid of honor. That way I get to have them both walk up the aisle with me.
If you can call the path from the sidewalk to the bandstand that’s lined with the theater program kids an aisle.
“Changed your mind?” Dad asks, indicating his still outstretched hand that I’ve not yet taken.
“If you want to run away,” Aunt Lou adds, “we’ll get right back in that sleigh and take you wherever you like.” She tips her head. “I mean, I’d think you were nuts. But I’d go with you.”
“I don’t know about wherever you like ,” Frankie says, rubbing the donkey’s nose. “Mabel could only probably manage locations within a one-mile radius. She’s not a spring chicken anymore.”
“Just taking it all in for a second,” I explain.
Reaching for my dad’s hand, I step onto the red carpet that runs from the curb, across the sidewalk, and all the way along the path to the pond and the bandstand.
Once I’ve adjusted my dress and veil, Dad tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and stands at my side.
“There you go,” he says with a proud smile.
“And here you are.” Aunt Lou hands me my bouquet of white roses with sprigs of holly, red berries and fir. Getting married at Christmas, I figured we might as well go all in on the theme. Aunt Lou’s bouquet is the same but smaller. The Warm Springs florist, who’s been here for thirty-odd years, has just handed over the business to her granddaughter, and I couldn’t be more honored to be her first wedding.
Dad and I take a couple of steps along the carpet as Aunt Lou moves behind and straightens out the back of my dress and cloak.
I’m grateful to have this moment to take in the smiling faces of the theater program kids lining my route to the bandstand, where I can see the shape of the handsome man in the bottle-green velvet suit we picked out in New York together. Obviously it had to be made to measure, nothing off the rack is ever going to fit Gabe’s gorgeous frame. He towers over Cecil , the smaller shape in front of him. But he isn’t much bigger than Wyatt, his best man, standing by his side.
The rest of the small group of our friends and family all rise from their seats and turn to face in our direction.
“Okay,” Aunt Lou says, moving around in front of us and pulling the veil down over my face. “It’s now or never.”
She gives a thumbs-up toward the bandstand. With the flourish of a conductor cueing up a symphony orchestra, Cecil waves a hand at Grayson, who hits Play on the music, and the march from The Nutcracker flows from the speakers set up on the railing.
Just like that first morning, when I was baking cookies at Gabe’s house, it’s the only even remotely Christmas-related music he hasn’t vetoed.
Dad gives my hand an affectionate tap. “Just look at all of this,” he whispers. “How much care and love you’ve created here. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
His words bring a lump to my throat. I swallow hard past it because I can’t let myself cry before we’ve even started. Not least because Carly from the produce store, who’s also an artist, spent ages helping me with my makeup and I don’t want all her excellent work to get washed away.
The kids lining the path straighten their backs like an honor guard as we approach and offer wide, warm smiles as we pass them.
When we get to the end, Abigail breaks free from the line and runs behind to help Aunt Lou lift my dress up the bandstand steps. I’d have loved to have Abigail as a flower girl, but it didn’t seem fair to single her out from all the other kids for a special role, but I did sneak in this one extra little duty for her.
And in true Abigail style she took on the responsibility with the application and precision of a heart surgeon. She had us out here for a practice run with an old curtain yesterday.
My fluttering heart almost comes to a stop the moment my eyes lock with Gabe’s. He spent last night at Aunt Lou’s—turns out he’s old-fashioned about not sleeping with his fiancée the night before the wedding—so I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon. And it looks like he’s spent the whole of that time trimming his beard. It’s neater than I’ve ever seen it. And the smile that radiates through it makes my heart soar.
Sometimes in life you make a decision and you’re absolutely certain it’s the right one. Marrying Gabe is one of those.
Dad pats my hand again. “I’ll be right over here if you need me,” he says softly, and moves to stand next to my mom, who’s already dabbing her eyes.
Aunt Lou takes my bouquet from me and steps to the side.
I’m just wondering what to do with my awkwardly unoccupied hands when Gabe takes them.
He leans in and whispers into my ear on the side that’s away from the guests. “You look absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
A shiver runs through me from the touch of his warm breath and the smell of that delicious orange-clove spice that I now know is from his body wash.
Cecil coughs. “I heard that.”
The guests chuckle, probably thinking it was something way dirtier.
“Okay, let’s get this ceremony started,” Cecil says.
“And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for.” Cecil looks beyond us to our gathered friends and family. “The vows.” He nods at me. “You first, Natalie.”
I squeeze Gabe’s hands and look deep into his eyes. I’m not sure I can actually speak. This is the part I’ve been most nervous about. It’s all fine being an actor and playing a part. But this is me standing up here, baring my heart to my soulmate and everyone in the world who’s important to me. It’s the most terrifying stage of all.
“I, Natalie Bourne.” My voice cracks, so I pause to clear my throat. “Take you, Gabriel Woods, as my husband. I promise to love you for the rest of my life. To lift your spirits when things don’t go your way. To place an ice pack on every injury. To yell ‘asshole!’ at every opponent who makes a good pass.” That gets the snicker I was hoping for, including from Gabe.
“And to really try to learn the nuances of the trapezoid rule.” That gets a louder laugh from some, shrugs and puzzled looks from others, and a never-in-a-million-years shake of the head from Gabe.
“I promise to put up only a moderate amount of Christmas decorations.” I turn slightly to the guests and wink with the eye Gabe can’t see. “And to be by your side for every documentary about capybaras that is screened in our lifetime.”
I inhale a deep breath that trembles as it fills my chest. “But above all, I promise to love you more than I ever thought possible. To accept more love from you than I ever thought possible. And to build a life with you that is happier and more fulfilled than either of us ever thought possible.”
And now emotion swells inside me, constricting my breath so much that I have to grip his hands extra hard to get out the last few all-important words. “I love you, Gabe Woods.”
His name cracks in my throat as he tips his head to the side and sucks in his lips, looking at me with soft, glossy green eyes. The thought that my hockey tough guy might be on the verge of a tear sends a couple of my own spilling down my cheeks.
Around us, there’s a smattering of gentle applause, a few ah s and a couple of sniffs.
“Gabe,” Cecil says.
The fairy lights wrapped around the uprights of the bandstand make the sheen in Gabe’s eyes shimmer.
He clears his throat and stands a little straighter, as if getting an internal grip.
“I, Gabriel Woods, take you, Natalie Bourne, as my wife.”
There’s a hushed “Yay” from Aunt Lou behind me.
Gabe looks at the floor for a moment. “I’m not good with words the way you are, Nat. I could never write a play. I’m not good with people the way you are. When I came here I planned to spend all my time alone in my house on the hill. And I’m not a constant ball of cheery energy the way you are. I was perfectly happy to crawl into my grumpy shell and retreat from the world.”
He lifts one of my hands and kisses it. “But falling in love with you has changed every part of my existence. And it’s changed me. You came crashing into my life one year and two weeks ago as a giant bunny I thought was mugging me, covered it in more Christmas decorations than Macy’s has ever seen, shook it up like a snow globe, and turned it into a magical wonderland of love and bliss and mutual respect.”
He looks at me for a second, eyes scanning my face, and takes a deep breath that expands his broad chest.
“Even standing here now, it’s hard to believe that you want me. But as long as you’re not about to realize this has all been a terrible mistake, I promise that me and my crusty heart will take care of you until the end of time. And I promise that, henceforth, you can put up as many Christmas decorations as you like, wherever you like, and I will enjoy them.”
He swallows hard. “But above all.” The blood flow to my fingers is suddenly cut off by his tight squeeze. “I will love you for the rest of my life.”
His last few words come out as a whisper that rocks my chest and sends a couple more tears spilling from my eyes.
“Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Cecil says. “And so, it is with the power vested in me by the town of Warm Springs that I now proclaim you husband and wife. You may kiss.” He flings an arm into the air right on the beat of the word “kiss.”
Our friends and family break into applause and cheers and whistles while Gabe gathers me into his arms and presses his loving, pillowy mouth against mine, the sounds of our loved ones fading into the background as I melt into him.
“I hate to interrupt,” Cecil says, doing exactly that. “But there’s just one more thing.”
Gabe and I pull apart and look at him. In the rehearsal there was nothing after the kiss.
“The theater kids have a little something for you,” Cecil says, turning around to face the frozen pond behind him, where Abigail and Grayson are skating out. Grayson is wearing Sir Percival’s cloak over his parka, and Abigail has somehow managed to slip away during the vows to put jeans on under her dress and don her penguin hat with Wendolyn’s veil attached to it.
The music from the speakers switches to a baroque-style orchestra as the two of them come to a perfectly synchronized stop and spin around to face us.
The guests leave their seats and gather around me, Gabe, Cecil, and Aunt Lou for the perfect view.
“We have the performance of this year’s official Christmas play tonight after the wedding reception,” Abigail says.
“But,” Grayson adds, “we have our own short interpretation of it for you right now.”
Behind them, a couple of the other kids push some familiar-looking scenery onto the ice. It’s the front of the mayor’s house from last year’s play that has now been covered in fairy lights and has Christmas ornaments stuck all over it.
Where on earth were they hiding that?
Abigail puts a rabbit ear headband on top of the veil and gets an immediate laugh. Then Grayson pulls a fake beard from his pocket and sticks it to his face. It’s a bit wonky and gets an even bigger laugh as we all see where this is going.
Abigail skates a couple of steps forward to address us. “’Twas two weeks afore Christmas Eve, not twelve months since, when Lord Gabe of the Woods journeyed through the snow to his new home in Warm Springs.”
Grayson makes like he’s trudging wearily through heavy snow up to the mayor’s house. When he gets there, he slams his hands on his hips and stares at it.
“What is this I see before me? Someone has done much decking of the halls. My house be festooned with myriad ornaments. I care not for festive festoonment. Therefore I am yet more grumpy than I was afore.”
Gabe puts his arm around me and lets out a belly laugh.
Grayson stomps to the side of the house, slamming his skates on the ice. “I shall gather my belongings from my chariot and enter the abode to lay my head. And on the morrow, I shall seek out the scoundrel who has committed such festoonery.”
Abigail glides silently up behind him and jumps on his back.
“Ah,” Grayson cries. “I am attacked. Attacked, I declare.”
He leans sideways to drop Abigail gently to lie on her back on the ice, then stands over her.
“Who are ye who seeks to mug me in my own driveway and rob me of my riches?” he pulls off her rabbit ears and tosses them aside.
Abigail clutches her face. “It is all a mistake, O lord. I knew not that you are the new owner.” She gestures to the mayor’s house. “But these decorations shall bring you much merriment.”
“Oh no, they shall not.” Grayson slumps his shoulders. “For I am a lifelong grump who shall never be changed. I wish only to sit in my unfestooned house on Fool’s Hill and educate myself on the ways of the world’s fauna with ne’er any a human with whom to communicate. Merriment shall not be had.”
Oh my God, a laugh so forceful that it bends me in half rolls out of me.
Abigail gets to her feet and limps. “Oh no, I am hurt.”
Kristopher appears from the side, sliding out one of the trees that Gabe painted for last year’s play. When it gets close to the action, he stops and pushes it over.
Grayson stamps his foot and slams his fists on his hips, his face contorted into an extreme frown and pout. “Not only do you festoon my house, but now you must be my human company, for the road is blocked and you are ailing and cannot leave.”
He stomps off. “I do not desire human company. I require only solitary misery. On the morrow you shall be gone.” He flings his arm to emphasize her banishment from his presence.
There’s a momentary pause in proceedings while Kristopher removes the fallen tree and Prema pushes out a large cutout of a decorated pig.
The coffee twins from the Bearded Bean and Polly from the produce store follow her out and take up positions on either side of the pig. Where the hell did they come from?
“Since we are now friends,” Abigail says, linking arms with a scowling Grayson, “I shall make you familiar with our town and festive celebrations.”
“But what is this?” Grayson points and scoffs at the pig.
“It is the Warm Springs Christmas pig. We are a land of much tradition and local lore. It will open your heart. You shall see.”
“Never,” Grayson shouts, snatching himself from Abigail’s grip. He folds his arms across his chest with so much force one side of his beard peels off.
“My heart of stone shall remain locked forever,” Grayson declares, quickly pressing the beard back to his cheek. “I will have no feelings for anything other than the game we play on ice with sticks, and where we sometimes have fights because we are foolish men who know no better.”
Gabe’s laughter rings in my ears. And my side is now actually hurting and there’s no hope for my mascara.
“But look,” an extra smiley and super cheery Abigail says. “The men with hairy faces who make hot drinks.” The coffee twins each hold up a Bearded Bean take-out cup.
“The lady of the produce with snowmen crafted from vegetables.” Polly holds up a snowman in each hand. One is made from what looks like a squash and turnips. The other seems to be two white onions.
“And the pig itself.” Abigail makes a grand sweeping gesture at the centerpiece. “All a-glow with pinkness and tinsel and decorations charmed with memories.”
Grayson slowly skates away, shaking his head.
But Abigail follows, her hands pressed together in a pleading prayer position. “Surely thou shalt be changed by our small-town oddities.”
Grayson stops in his tracks and clutches his chest. “Oh, what is this?” He turns to stare at Abigail in shock. “Is this a cracking of my heart?”
The rest of the kids who were lining the path scurry out from behind the bandstand and skate out onto the ice, forming a little huddle. They’re now decked out with antlers, crowns, tinsel wrapped around their arms, and all manner of festive nonsense.
“And there’s the young townsfolk too,” Abigail says, indicating the new crowd, “they gather each year, all dressed to perform for everyone’s amusement.”
Grayson drops his chin, looking down at himself. “My chest,” he cries. “It is a-swelling. ”
I swear to God, the bandstand actually shakes with everyone’s laughter.
“This town fills everyone with love, Sir Gabriel.” Abigail skates in circles around him. “I knew it could work its magic on you too.”
“Indeed it has.” Grayson catches her hand and halts her circling. “For now I see your beauty and your intellect and your ability to prevail with a smile through all adversity. I feel, in fact, Miss Natalie of the Bourne… feelings .”
Oh my God, it’s just not possible to cry-laugh anymore.
“True feelings,” he says. “Feelings the like of which my chest has never felt before.”
Abigail affects a swoon.
“I believe this might be…” Grayson looks up at the bandstand. “Dare I say it?”
“Yes!” we all holler back.
Grayson turns back to Abigail. “I believe this might be what folks refer to as love.”
We all let out a loud yay .
“Indeed,” Grayson says. “This town has cracked open my cold, stony heart of grump and filled it instead with light and warmth and cheer. And now I know I am in the deepest of deep love with you, Miss Natalie of Bourne.”
Gabe pulls me to his side.
“I love you too, Lord Gabriel,” Abigail sighs.
“This love thing is the strangest of strange sensations,” Grayson says. “It fills me with an irrational desire to present you with a small animal.”
My cheeks hurt.
He reaches inside his cloak and produces one of the plush pigs from the pig tail game, exactly like the one Gabe gave to me in front of everyone exactly one year ago.
Abigail clutches it to her heart. “Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more, you gift me a poor orphaned piglet and I fall for you ever deeper.”
Grayson takes her hand and holds it aloft as they both turn to face us.
“We shall be man and wife this instant,” he proclaims.
“And they both lived happily ever after,” Abigail says as they take a deep bow.
The whole place erupts in applause and cheers—everyone in the bandstand, as well as everyone on the ice behind those two little stars, Grayson and Abigail.
Gabe dips his head to kiss my temple, sending a shimmy of pleasure down my side. “You have turned my life upside fucking down,” he says, cupping my cheek. “I will love you forever. And I can’t wait for our kids to be in one of your bonkers plays.”
Then he lowers his lips to mine.
And here we stand, kissing, surrounded by the joyous sounds of the people we love the most, of the town we love the most, and all I can think is that there’s even more joy and love for us to discover together that’s still to come.