Epilogue
Christina
? March as an ally in a Pride parade
One month later
I twist in the tiny airplane seat to peek at Trish and Jim sitting in the row behind us.
They are both already wearing the custom shirts that Ally had made for them: rainbow tie-dye with Pride New York in bold lettering on the front, and then Mama Trish and Papa Jim written across their backs like jerseys.
They quickly became parents to the whole Sloppy Bitch gang, insisting on flying us to New York so we could all do Pride together, the very last Jezebel List item—the one that seemed too late, but now reminds Danny and me that there will never be a too late between us again.
The Jezebel List blew up. It rapidly became one of Danny’s most viewed videos, and several short clips went viral.
This mini New York vacation is borderline necessary given how ragged we’ve been run the past month managing the response and accepting invitations to be guest speakers on podcasts and other channels to increase exposure.
Well, we’re also ragged because of all the sex. But we’re not taking a vacation from that.
Some of Danny’s prior collaborators were initially surprised by his smoldering intensity since he’s dropped his easygoing mask completely, but they adjusted quickly to the two of us as a team, especially because I seem to absorb Danny’s energy and reflect it back in ways that people can appreciate.
Both the best and most difficult response has been from women, especially women in ministry or other pastor’s daughters like me, reaching out to thank me or to share their own stories.
Several of the viral clips jump-started social media trends: one of women adding their own experiences from the Evangelical church; one of people explaining their choice to cut ties with their parents; another of women purchasing their first vibrators.
I share and like and respond to as many as I can from our Sweet & UNsweet Tea account.
Danny rummages in his backpack to retrieve the books we selected for the flight. He hands mine over with a furrowed brow. “We’ve already read this, baby.”
“You know I love a reread. Plus, I still hear it in your voice in my head.” I tilt my face up to capture his lips with mine. He melts into me, and my fingers snake into his hair just as my tongue nudges—
“Hey.”
I break off to see Charlie’s reprimanding face leaning around Danny’s other side. “What did I say about making out on the plane?”
“Um.” I scratch my head. “To do it?”
Danny laughs.
“I knew I should have chosen a different row,” Charlie grumbles, but his lips twitch indulgently.
“Oh, by the way, what if we have two selfie sticks going through the parade?” I ask him. “We can trade off throughout, but we’re such a big group and the parade will be so chaotic that I think we might need more coverage.”
We’ll be filming this last TJL item as a short coda to be released in the next month. We want to synthesize a lot of the response, highlight some other women’s stories, and tease out the various conversations the doc has sparked.
Charlie nods. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“Of course it is,” Danny mutters, burning me with his stare. I catch a faint but obviously exasperated “Jesus Christ” from Charlie’s direction.
I snort and whisper to Danny, “I still think a Reeves Boys podcast would make a killing.”
“Throw Mama Trish and Papa Jim in and we’ve got a hit. We could probably just record all of us at family dinner, to be honest.”
“Ooh,” I squeal. “We’re gonna have to really think about this title. Friday Night Family Time. Or maybe D&D&D—dinner, decaf, and dessert?”
Danny chuckles. “The Reeves Crew Goes High and Low.”
I frown. “I’m not a Reeves.”
He slips a hand onto my thigh but says nothing.
“Hey, Danny?
“Yes, Christina?”
“I would really, really like to be a Reeves.”
Because just like the girlfriend label, this last name is descriptive, not prescriptive. Becoming Christina Reeves isn’t dictating any role to perform—and it’s definitely not a nonsense submissive thing. Swapping Edmondson for Reeves simply reflects the life I’m already living. My real family.
Possibilities.
The quiet crinkles appear next to Danny’s scorching eyes, and I’m powerless to do anything but press my thumb there. “You just say the word, sweetheart. We can change your name the minute we get back if you want.”
“Oh, right.” I hum, thinking. “I guess getting married isn’t actually a requirement for a name change.”
Now his mouth closes quick enough for his teeth to snap. “Is … is marriage something you’re interested in?”
I raise my eyebrows.
He tucks his hair behind his ear with his free hand and shifts his eyes to his lap. “Down the line, I mean. Years from now. Decades from now. On our death bed, even.”
He’s so fucking cute, I might die.
I trace over his nervous hair tuck with a comforting one, then trail my hand down to his chin to gently tap up twice. Look at me.
His big eyes shift back on mine, fire blazing.
“Honestly?” I ask.
A flicker of a smile. “Always.”
“Only if you marry me on a Sunday.”
His slow, lopsided smile unfurls, and my heart’s pounding so wildly that he ends up smirking because he can hear it.
For Charlie’s benefit, we refrain from kissing the remainder of the flight—although it’s really for our benefit because we never can tell when an innocent kiss will kick into a high-gear, point-of-no-return zone.
We land and ride the subway to our hotel. As soon as the sliding glass doors to the lobby open, squeals and hollers overwhelm me.
Runzhou reaches me first and snatches me up in a backbreaking hug. Then Ally attacks from the side, and I assume the other two thumps against me are Reese and K piling on. We end up jumping and yelling in our little suffocating huddle, but I can still hear Danny laughing and reveling in our joy.
Mama Trish and Papa Jim eventually pry us apart so they can get their hugs in and show off their shirts.
Reese and Danny slap hands and bump shoulders, both of them immediately and animatedly launching into a serious discussion about some recent Supreme Court ruling that I know they’ve already been texting about nonstop.
“Oh my god,” Ally whispers as her eyes dart between them.
I snuggle into her with my arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “What?”
“Do you think it’s possible that Danny and Reese are soulmates??”
K gasps and slaps a hand on their forehead. “Holy shit, yes! We didn’t recognize it because they express it like the straight white boys they are.”
We gape at the two men coming alive for one another for a full minute before we collapse into a giggle fit. Runzhou quietly takes in this rapturous group of people.
When Jim, Trish, and Charlie head up to their rooms, we drag Reese and Danny back to our huddle.
“So I say we always do Pride here in New York,” Runzhou proposes. “Every year.”
K nods. “Fitting.”
“Reese and I call Thanksgiving in D.C.,” Ally squeals.
I bounce on my heels. “That means Danny and I will be hosting Christmas through New Year’s in Chattanooga.”
“All agreed?” Reese asks.
“Agreed,” I pipe.
“Agreed.” Ally.
“Agreed.” Runzhou.
“Agreed.” K.
The overwhelming warmth and belonging in my chest are reflected on Danny’s beautiful face when he unfurls his most ravishing smile yet. “Agreed.”