Epilogue
ROBYN
Robyn stood in the doorway for a moment before she went in, breathing it all in. The smell of roasting turkey, butter, and sage curling out into the air like a fall hug. Laughter ricocheted from room to room. Someone calling, with true urgency, for a missing serving spoon.
This, this was how Thanksgiving was supposed to sound.
Growing up, her parents’ version of the holiday usually involved reservations, a private dining room, and a staff member quietly appearing when a glass needed refilling.
If they stayed home, it was their private chef in their kitchen, not friends and family.
Not the chaotic energy of teamwork and everyone bringing a dish to pass.
Not someone yelling, “Where did the gravy boat go?”
She stepped into the kitchen and immediately had to dodge Emma, who was standing on a stool at the counter with her sleeves pushed up, whip-mixing mashed potatoes with Tyler’s mom, Nana Mary.
She’d spoken to Nana Mary twice on the phone.
Once, when Tyler and Emma had been video chatting and Robyn had dropped by.
The second time when Mary had called specifically to ask whether Robyn had any dietary restrictions, and had then kept her on the line for forty-five minutes talking about Tyler as a little boy.
Robyn had stored every detail. She’d been looking forward to this more than she’d admitted to anyone, including herself.
Tyler’s dad was at the oven, basting the turkey. He kept peeking through the glass door as if the bird might make a break for it.
“It’s fine, Dad,” Tyler said, leaning against the counter with a dish towel in his hand. “It’s not going to dry out in ten minutes.”
His father didn’t even look up. “You can’t be too careful,” he said, squeezing the baster with absolute conviction. “This turkey is the centerpiece of the meal.”
Robyn smiled, then felt her chest tighten at how perfect the day was. The kitchen was crowded and messy and loud, and somehow it made her feel more at home than any polished dinner party ever had.
Her parents arrived shortly after, dressed as if they’d accidentally wandered into the wrong event.
Her mother wore dress slacks and a blazer with a pearl necklace that looked like it belonged in a board meeting.
Her father had gone full suit, as if he might be called into court at any moment.
They held themselves with that careful, composed posture of people who usually did not enter someone else’s kitchen and offer to help.
But they were trying.
Robyn’s mother had already asked twice, in a slightly strained voice, if there was anything she could do, and Nana Mary had handed her a bowl of green beans and told her to snap the ends off. Robyn’s mother eyed the green beans as if she was sorry she’d asked.
Robyn should have been embarrassed, but instead she felt proud. Proud that her parents had shown up.
It wasn’t easy; she knew they didn’t understand their daughter’s decision, but it wasn’t theirs to make. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d given it all up.
She’d be teaching her Yale classes online next week—still Professor Robyn Valente, still discussing literature and craft and running seminars from her laptop, but she’d be doing it from Maple Falls.
From above the bookstore. On her terms. Visiting Yale as needed.
The thought still didn’t feel entirely real.
But it felt right.
The back door swung open and a gust of cold air rolled in along with Emily, cheeks pink from the cold and arms stacked with pie boxes.
“I come bearing dessert,” Emily announced triumphantly.
The smell hit a second later—pumpkin, pecan, apple—warm spices and browned butter and sugar, rich enough to make Robyn’s stomach growl.
“You’re a hero,” Nana Mary said without hesitation.
“I know,” Emily replied, completely unbothered.
“Kit’s on her way, too,” Emily added, tugging off her gloves. “She said she has some fancy artichoke appetizer she wants you all to try. Oh, and Madison and Zach said they’d stop by after dinner.”
Robyn smiled, thinking about how easily Tyler and her family and friends had blended. It was seamless, really.
Robyn was just turning back toward the table to set the place cards and napkins when she heard it.
A faint hiss.
Then that unmistakable smell of something starting to burn.
Robyn’s head snapped toward the stove at the exact moment a thin puff of smoke curled up from the pan Tyler had been “keeping an eye on.”
Tyler moved quickly. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”
The smoke doubled, a small haze moving through the air.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Dad, that’s not fine.”
“It’s okay,” Tyler said, coughing a little. “I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure?” Robyn asked sweetly, then angled the last part toward Emily, because she couldn’t help herself. “I can always call the fire department.”
It didn’t disappoint. Emily glared at her friend as if to say, Don’t you dare.
Robyn only smiled back, because if she hadn’t been sure before, she was now.
Her best friend had just met her match.
And whatever story was about to spark between Emily and Maple Falls’s newest firefighter… it was going to be explosive.
Later, after everyone had arrived, including Walt and Alice with their homemade biscuits and honey, Robyn stood back, watching them all.
Tyler joined her, slipping his arm around her waist.
Robyn rested her head on his chest. “You know, out of all the stories, ours is my favorite.”
She tilted her chin up to look at him.
Tyler smiled. “Mine too. And it’s only just beginning.”
* * *
If you loved Robyn and Tyler’s cozy fall love story, don’t miss The Sugar and Spice Kitchen!
This festive holiday romance is packed with spicy enemies-to-lovers chemistry and plenty of Christmas magic.
When a hot firefighter and a very feisty baker find themselves snowed in together, sparks are sure to fly…