Epilogue
“I’ve always loved a happily ever after.”
—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,
Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes
Hiding in a supply closet with a hot, tattooed single dad wasn’t exactly how I expected to spend my twenty-fourth birthday, but here we were.
“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone yet?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” Abe murmured against my neck where he was currently doing a very thorough job of kissing it.
I giggled. Because I giggle now. Being in love with Abe gave me lots of chances to giggle and smile and count my blessings.
The first few months after we started dating had not been easy.
Abe’s father, Eli, wasn’t happy but, surprisingly, his mom was over the moon.
Some time around Christmas, Eli started to mellow.
I’d like to think he’d been won over when he saw we were all in, but I think Steph Ramos probably talked his ear off until he gave in.
Someone knocked on the supply room door. I groaned. Abe laughed softly against my skin. I shivered as the sensation traveled through my whole body.
“Yeah?”
“People are wondering where you are,” Yessica said. “Also, karaoke is about to start. I didn’t think you’d want to miss that.”
I glared at Abe. “There is not karaoke.”
He flashed his dimples. “Karaoke is fun. People like it.”
“I’m signed up for the second slot,” Yessica said.
Twenty minutes later, I was watching my new best friend singing her heart out to “Cherry Pie.” Not that she would ever take the place of Gloria, whose grave I visited once a week to leave flowers and tell her about my life.
I’d like to think she was very pleased with the changes the last year had brought.
For instance, I’d started a Masters of Social Work program this past spring.
I’d started working part time at Shady Cove as the activities director, which I loved.
I still fit in a couple of shifts a week at the Sit-n-Eat.
Mae and Chris had welcomed another daughter, Grace. And even though she was not a Texan by birth, we still claimed her.
Gloria would also be happy to know that I now wore shirts that weren’t black, and sometimes I wore a dress because I felt like it and because I like the way Abe looked at me when I did.
As for Abe, I was grateful every day to have him in my life. We didn’t see eye to eye all the time. Sometimes he annoyed me, sometimes I annoyed him; but I never questioned whether he loved me. Because he never stopped telling me or showing me or putting in the work to make me feel that way.
One day, hopefully soon, I was going to marry that guy.
That night when I got home, I found a postcard from Carlos, and a thick manilla envelope addressed to me from a law firm.
There were two things in it. One was a short handwritten note that read:
Darling Iris,
It may come as a bit of a shock to receive a package from a dead woman on your birthday, but I rather liked how dramatic that sounds.
I hope this finds you hopelessly in love and outrageously happy. (And please tell me you’ve updated your wardrobe. I always dreamed of burning all your black t-shirts.)
Know that I’m always watching, so please don’t be boring.
Love,
Gloria
The second thing in the envelope was an unpublished manuscript entitled:
Darling, I Must Say: A Memoir
by Gloria Hayes
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If you fell for Iris and Abe, don’t miss Sharon M. Peterson’s brilliant, laugh-out-loud romcom, The Do-Over.
Get it here or keep reading for an exclusive extract.