20. Epilogue - Lily
Two months later - Christmas Tree Lighting
“Higher, Mario! I can’t see!” Olivia commanded from her perch on Mario’s shoulders, pointing imperiously at the still-dark tree in the town square.
“Any higher and you’ll be the star on top of the tree,” he said, but adjusted his grip so she could see better.
I watched them, my heart doing that stupid, wonderful flip it had been doing for months now.
More than a month of real dating, real feelings, real everything.
It hadn’t been perfect—Mario still struggled with emotional conversations, I still panicked sometimes about him leaving, and June’s Facebook group had documented every single moment—but it had been ours.
“Lily!” My mother appeared with a tray of hot chocolate, my father trailing behind with cookies. “Doesn’t Olivia look adorable up there?”
“Like a Christmas elf who’s had too much sugar,” I said, accepting a mug gratefully.
The town square was packed, the entire population of Autumn Grove apparently determined to witness the tree lighting despite the freezing temperature.
Or maybe they were here to witness us—Mario and I had become something of a town project, our relationship status tracked with the dedication usually reserved for sports scores.
“Is that a new shirt?” Mom asked Mario when he and Olivia joined us, my daughter now firmly attached to his hip like a festive koala.
“Olivia picked it out,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed.
The shirt in question had a giant Christmas tree on it and actual working lights. It was hideous. It was perfect.
“It’s very bright,” Mom said diplomatically.
“It’s AMAZING,” Olivia corrected. “And it matches my dress!” She did a little spin, showing off her red dress covered in sequined reindeer.
“You two are a fashion disaster,” I said, but I was smiling.
“We’re festive,” Mario corrected, pulling me against his side. “There’s a difference.”
Ben appeared with his new girlfriend, Kate. “The tree lighting’s in five minutes. Bets on whether June cries?”
“She always cries,” I said.
“Yeah, but this year she has you two as bonus emotional fodder.” He grinned. “I heard she’s preparing a speech about love and community.”
“Of course she is,” Mario muttered, but his arm tightened around me.
The crowd started counting down, and Mayor Gable took the microphone. “Before we light our tree, I want to take a moment to celebrate what makes Autumn Grove special—our community, our traditions, and yes, our love stories.”
“Here we go,” Mario whispered in my ear.
“This year, we’ve watched one of our favorite love stories unfold,” the Mayor continued, and a spotlight suddenly found us. “Mario and Lily reminded us that sometimes love needs a little help from friends?—”
“And Facebook groups!” June called out.
“—and that the best things in life are worth fighting for.”
As the crowd “awwwed,” I wanted to disappear into the ground.
“So before we light the tree,” the mayor said, his eyes twinkling, “Mario? Anything you’d like to say?”
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Not again.”
But Mario just laughed, shaking his head. “I said everything I needed to say with a pumpkin. But...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped box. “Merry Christmas, Lily.”
My heart stopped. The crowd went silent. Even Olivia stopped wiggling.
“It’s not—” I started.
“Open it,” he said softly.
With shaking hands, I unwrapped the box. Inside was a key.
“Is this...?”
“I bought the Hendersons’ old place,” he said. “The one three houses down from yours. It needs work—the porch is falling apart, the kitchen’s from 1982, and there’s that tree that drops apples on everyone who walks by.”
“You bought a house,” I said stupidly.
“I bought a home,” he corrected. “Close enough to be there whenever you need me, far enough that we can still take things at whatever pace you want.”
“But close enough for sleepovers!” Olivia added helpfully. “Right, Mario?”
“We’ll discuss that with your mom, piccola .”
I stared at the key, this simple piece of metal that represented so much more—permanence, commitment, a future.
“You bought a house and a garage in Autumn Grove,” I said, still processing.
“Where else would I go?” He cupped my face with his free hand. “Everything I want is here.”
I kissed him then, right there in front of the whole town, the crowd erupting in cheers. Olivia made exaggerated gagging noises. June was definitely crying while live streaming.
“Wait!” a voice called out. We broke apart to see Mario’s mother pushing through the crowd. She’d arrived yesterday and immediately bonded with my mother over grandchildren they were already planning.
“We have something too,” she announced, pulling out her phone. “For the Facebook!”
“Mama, no—” Mario started.
But she was already FaceTiming someone, the screen showing his father back in Italy, looking gruff but present.
“Papa,” Mario said, surprised.
“I’m watching the tree,” his father said roughly. “Your mother insisted. She says the lights are molto bello .”
“They haven’t turned them on yet.”
“Well, turn them on! It’s late here!”
Mayor Gable, never one to miss a cue, started the countdown. “Ten! Nine! Eight!”
The crowd joined in. Olivia bounced with excitement. Mario pulled me closer.
“Three! Two! One!”
The tree exploded with light—thousands of white bulbs turning the square into a winter wonderland. The crowd cheered. June was openly sobbing. Even Mario’s father made an approving grunt over FaceTime.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, looking up at the tree.
“Beautiful,” Mario agreed, but he was looking at me.
“Ew, they’re being mushy again,” Olivia announced. “Grandma, can I have another cookie?”
As my mother whisked Olivia away for treats, Mario turned me to face him fully.
“I have something else,” he said, pulling out a second small box.
“Mario—”
“It’s not a ring,” he said quickly. “We agreed on slow, and I’m respecting that. But open it.”
Inside was a delicate silver charm bracelet with three charms: a tiny pumpkin, a race car, and a flower.
“The pumpkin’s for our beginning,” he explained. “The car’s for my past. The flower’s for your present. I thought... we could add to it. Build our story.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, my eyes burning with tears.
He fastened it around my wrist, his fingers warm against my skin. “There’s room for lots more charms.”
“Planning a long story?”
“The longest.”
“Lily! Mario!” June materialized with her phone and what looked like a professional ring light. “Can I get a quick interview for the Christmas edition of the Facebook group newsletter?”
“There’s a newsletter now?” Mario asked weakly.
“Oh yes! Monthly editions. This month’s theme is ‘Love Actually Happens in Autumn Grove.’ You’re the cover story!”
“June—” I started.
“Just one question,” she promised. “Mario, what made you decide to stay?”
He looked at me, then at Olivia, who had returned with cookie crumbs all over her face, then at the crowd of people who had become our extended family.
“I finally figured out the difference between running toward something and running away from something,” he said simply. “This time, I’m running toward it.”
June sniffled. “That’s beautiful. Can you say it again with better lighting?”
“June!” we both said.
She retreated, but not before snapping several photos.
“Mom! Mario!” Olivia tugged on our hands. “Grandma says we can go get hot chocolate at the diner, but only if you promise not to be gross and romantic.”
“Define gross,” Mario said.
“Kissing. Gazing. Talking about feelings.” She made a face. “You know, adult stuff.”
“No promises,” I said.
“Ugh, you’re impossible.” But she was smiling. “Can I at least get extra marshmallows since you’re going to embarrass me?”
“Deal,” Mario said, scooping her up despite her squeal of protest.
As we walked toward the diner, our family and friends trailing behind us, the Christmas lights twinkling overhead, I thought about how different this was from last Christmas.
Last year, I’d been so determined to prove I didn’t need anyone.
This year, I was surrounded by people who’d meddled and interfered and loved us into accepting that maybe, just maybe, we did need each other.
“What are you thinking about?” Mario asked quietly.
“How June was right all along,” I admitted.
“About what?”
“We do have chemistry.”
“Like Mentos and Coke!” Olivia piped up. “Explosive!”
“Where does she learn these things?” Mario asked.
“June’s Facebook group has a science corner now.”
“Of course it does.”
The diner was warm and bright, and our usual table was waiting—somehow June had already reserved it and put a little “Reserved for Autumn Grove’s Sweetest Love Story” sign on it.
“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered.
“No, you’re not,” Mario said. “You love her meddling.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“You love that she cares enough to meddle.”
I looked at him—this man who’d gone from grumpy stranger to the person I couldn’t imagine life without.
“Maybe a little,” I admitted.
“Excuse me!” A woman approached our table. “Aren’t you the couple from the proposal pumpkin video?”
Oh God. The video had somehow made it beyond Autumn Grove, getting shared as a “heartwarming holiday moment” on various social media platforms.
“That’s them!” Olivia announced proudly. “Mario used a pumpkin because he’s not good with words, but Mom understood anyway.”
“I’m getting better with words,” Mario protested.
“Marginally,” I teased.
The woman smiled. “Well, you give us all hope. Real love still exists.”
After she left, Mario looked at me. “Real love?”
“Real love,” I confirmed.
“Even with the meddling town and the Facebook groups and your mother already planning our wedding?”
“Especially with all that.”
“Mom,” Olivia said seriously, hot chocolate mustache firmly in place. “Can I be your maid of honor?”
“We’re not—” I started.
“When you DO get married,” she clarified. “I’m not rushing you. June says patience is important in relationship development.”
“June needs a hobby,” Mario said.
“She has one. It’s us.”
We all looked out the window where June was, indeed, taking photos of us through the glass.
“Should we wave?” I asked.
“Might as well,” Mario said.
So we did, all three of us waving at June, who waved back enthusiastically before running off, probably to upload the photos immediately.
“This is our life,” I said.
“This is our life,” Mario agreed, reaching over to wipe the hot chocolate from Olivia’s face.
“Our weird, meddling, absolutely perfect life,” Olivia added.
And looking at them both—my daughter and this man who’d learned to stay—I couldn’t argue with that.
My phone buzzed. A notification from June’s Facebook group: “brEAKING: Local family too cute for words at diner! Is this the wedding announcement we’ve been waiting for?”
“Not yet, June,” I murmured, my gaze dropping to my right hand. The washer ring Mario had made for me glinted softly, catching the light like promises I hadn’t dared hope for before. “Not yet.”
Mario caught my hand, his thumb brushing over the ring. “But someday?”
I thought about the pipe cleaner ring he still carried in his pocket—I’d seen him transfer it carefully every morning. About the house he’d bought three doors down. About how Olivia had already started calling his parents Nonna and Nonno.
“Yes,” I said softly. “Someday.”
“I can wait,” he said.
“I know.”
“I’m getting really good at staying put.”
“I noticed.”
“Mom, Mario, you’re being gross again,” Olivia announced.
“Sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay. June says it’s important to see healthy relationship dynamics.”
“June says a lot of things,” Mario muttered.
Through the window, the Christmas tree lights twinkled in the square, families were taking photos, and somewhere, June was probably drafting her next newsletter about our “Christmas miracle romance.”
But inside the diner, it was just us. Our little family that had started as a fake and become the most real thing in my life.
“Next Christmas,” Olivia said thoughtfully, “can we get matching ugly sweaters?”
“Absolutely not,” I said.
“Absolutely yes,” Mario said at the same time.
We looked at each other.
“We’ll discuss it,” we said in unison, then laughed.
“You’re synchronizing again,” Olivia observed. “June says that means?—”
“Let’s just enjoy our hot chocolate,” I interrupted.
But as Mario’s hand found mine under the table, as Olivia launched into a detailed plan for next year’s Halloween costume, as the snow began to fall softly outside, I thought maybe June was right about this one thing.
Love actually does happen in Autumn Grove.
Even when it starts with a broken cash register and a fake dating scheme.
Especially then.
* * *
THE END