Epilogue
I’m certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed! —Pride & Prejudice
We have a very merry Christmas. I give Liam a doughnut cat, which my dad helped me make in November. Liam promptly declares he’s going to keep it on the counter year-round. Outraged, my mom tells him that’s sacrilege. “The doughnut cat only comes out in October.”
Liam says his doughnut cat, which he promptly named Jiji, likes to be on the counter serving doughnuts year-round. Tilly sides with Liam. Gretta with my mom. She lobbies my dad to join the debate, but Liam decides to end the dispute by handing me a wrapped box, a Christmas gift. I lift the lid to find four handkerchiefs embroidered with violets. On top rests a notecard, which reads, “For happy tears.”
I told the truth when I said I never cry happy tears, but reading that note, my eyes prick a little. “Liam, I love them. Did your mom... ”
“Yeah, she made them. When I asked her to in October, she was very excited.”
I venture the question I’m afraid to ask, “And what does she think of me now?” Liam might have forgiven me for what I wrote in that book. But I can’t imagine his mother could forgive me so fast.
“She was angry, but in the end, she was the one who convinced me to come back. Honestly, I think she didn’t want these handkerchiefs to go to waste.” I pretend to be offended and throw a wad of wrapping paper at his unshaven face. He throws it back, and Fitz wanders after it. “I would have come around, eventually.” He continues, petting Fitz, who, good dog that he is, returns the tossed wrapping paper to Liam. “But Mom and Georgie made me see reason much faster than I would have on my own. They insisted I spend Christmas with you. I really didn’t need much convincing. But it’s a good thing I listened to them. I was already in Boston on my way home when Carmen texted me about the emergency board meeting.”
“What! But if you were already planning on spending Christmas with me, why didn’t you just fly back with me?”
My siblings, who have been opening gifts, all pretend not to listen, when, in reality, they breathlessly wait for Liam’s answer.
“Georgie told me I owed you a grand gesture, but we were kind of at a loss for what that should be. I had decided flying back to the States was a big enough gesture. But when Reynolds messaged me asking what to do about getting the Audi to Iowa, I knew what I needed to do.” He takes my hand. “Though it about killed me watching you leave that meeting without talking to you in person.”
“It kind of killed me that you didn’t follow me.”
“That’s why I texted you as soon as I could. Are you mad?” He looks genuinely worried.
“No.” I stop and think about it. “I mean, if you had talked to me face to face, there’s no way I would have flown home, and I would have missed Gretta’s birthday.” Realistically, I know it will get trickier to be home for my sister’s birthdays in the future. “I’m glad I was here for The Nightmare Before Christmas. And you got Gretta’s car here, and it was truly the most wonderful surprise.”
“Phew! I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me you like surprises.”
“I do, and I’m so happy.” I snuggle up to him. We are both wearing pajamas, even though it’s afternoon. Liam takes the Benson family Christmas traditions seriously. Instead of packing the jogger pants and T-shirt he usually sleeps in, he brought traditional red plaid pajamas with a monogram on the pocket. “Opening the door and seeing you there will forever be one of my favorite memories.” I might be a bit forward saying something like this. But Liam doesn’t even blink, which tells me we both know we’re in this for the long haul.
Gretta interrupts us to give a gift to Fitz. In the few days leading up to Christmas, she knitted him a doggie sweater. Fitz is skeptical about this gift. When my sister tries to put it on him, he runs and hides behind the couch. However, he receives my mom’s gift more graciously. She crafted him leather dog boots with scraps from past projects. Still wearing pajamas (it’s tradition), but with coats, gloves, and snow boots, we take Fitz on a late-afternoon walk to try out his new Christmas present. Liam thinks Fitz will be more willing to wear the boots if he first walks the icy sidewalks with bare paws a few minutes. When we reach the end of the block, we stop to put on his new boots. Fitz immediately sees the usefulness of this gift. As Fitz scampers ahead of us on the snowy sidewalk, testing out his new boots, I give my real gift to Liam.
“Sooo . . . you know that book I wrote . . . the one that caused so much trouble.”
Liam huffs, creating clouds of frozen breath. “I’d be fine if you never mentioned it again.”
“Alright . . . but I think you’ll like this.”
“Okay?” he asks warily.
“Um... well, so, that book has sold a lot and made a lot of money. So much so that I put in my notice at the community college... I’m moving back to Sacramento... in January.” He doesn’t say a word. We walk past a couple houses before I break the uncomfortable silence. “Liam, is that okay? I thought you’d be happy.”
“Lettie.” His voice cracks. “You’re moving to Sacramento?” I nod. And then I realize why he hasn’t said anything. He’s crying. “I didn’t know I could be this happy.” He wipes away a tear with his leather glove.
I pull one of my brand-new handkerchiefs out of my coat pocket and hand it to him. “Here!” He wipes his face and smiles at me. Heartfelt delight suits him.
“Oh, Liam!” I throw my arms around his neck. We embrace in the middle of the neighborhood. We only break when Fitz strains at his leash, barking at an approaching dog.
On Boxing Day, Liam and Tilly take over the kitchen to bake macarons and binge-watch The Great British Bake Off . I supervise by tasting the cookies for quality control. I also find the mistletoe my mom hung in front of the fridge very convenient.
Two days later, I fly out with Liam to Tahoe for New Year’s. We have more fun than I imagined possible, and I have a good imagination. I was worried about Liam’s mom not liking me, but she welcomes me like a daughter. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m only a girlfriend of a couple weeks. Everyone treats me like I’m already part of the family. Honestly, I feel like I am. Georgie is an absolute delight. She wants to help me plot my next book, the one in which Ivan Pennington is redeemed and the Noah character ends up in prison. The real Noah has so far evaded such a fate. But on the bright side, Lydia got the photos he stole from her phone taken down, and she swears she will get her revenge. In my opinion, Noah should be scared.
I learn from Anne Darcy that Noah didn’t actually quit Bennet Parties as he told me. He’d been fired. When Anne Darcy found out he was working for the company last June, she had a conversation with Priscilla, warning her about Noah. Priscilla, already concerned about some of the drama he’d caused in the office, quietly dismissed him. What I find the most shocking about this revelation is that Priscilla managed to keep a secret. I didn’t think it possible. Then again, when will I learn that I’m not exactly the expert on human behavior like I want to believe I am?
I fly home only to spend a few days to say goodbye and pack up Lady for my triumphant return to Sacramento. I go the long way via Los Angeles. With this route, I skip most mountain passes in January and have the bonus of visiting my cousins. Liam flies down to meet me in LA. He is adorably starstruck upon meeting April, Freddy, and my Uncle Dean. After a satisfying visit, Liam drives with me back to Sacramento. He is almost beginning to like road trips—or at least road trips with me.
Char welcomes me back with only a few told-you-so’s, reminding me that she said I should stay in Sacramento and date Liam. “I told you he’d make you happy.” I’m way too happy to mind.
All I can say is, “You were right, Char. So very right.”
***
Normally, I hate winter, but the past two months have been the best of my life. Dating Lettie has changed everything. It also helps that Joe Whittaker agreed to an early retirement after the holidays, and my mom decided to be his replacement on the board, making life at Pemberley so much better.
Lettie and I attend the hospital fundraiser once again. But this year, the evening does not end in a fight. It ends so much better.
Lettie now frequently asks me to read her writing. She often reads a chapter out loud to me, asking for my opinion. The best is when she’s working on a kissing scene and asks me to help her work out the logistics. I always approach this as a challenge—to kiss her so thoroughly that she forgets all about her writing. I’ve become quite skilled at this.
Not only is my mother back on the board, but she’s resumed planning all the Pemberley Parties. She’s been especially excited about today, the first Blossom Days since my father’s death. Blossom Days are simple enough. We open the small orchard at our home to friends and family to wander and take in the glory of the almond trees in full bloom. We hire several excellent photographers so that guests can get professional photos. And, of course, we provide a bountiful picnic spread.
I amble through the rows of trees blooming with white flowers with just a hint of pink. Sweet, scented petals carpet the ground. The trees above tremble with the buzz of bees. I’ve always loved the sound of them humming in the trees. The only thing that could make this orchard more beautiful is the woman waiting for me with a dazzling smile and Fitz beside her.
“There you are!” Lettie greets me with a kiss, and so does Fitz.
“Sorry, it took me a minute to get away,” I say. The party ended an hour ago, but the after-party is still going strong.
“Is Caroline still here with her date?” Lettie asks.
“We’re going to have to drag him out.”
“I can’t believe she stooped so low as to invite Colin.” Lettie takes my hand, and we begin ambling through the orchard.
“I seem to recall another young lady who did the same thing.”
“I was trying to make you jealous.”
“It worked,” I say.
“You’re kidding, right?” She looks at me with amazement. “You couldn’t have been seriously jealous of that guy?”
“Not exactly jealous, but I hated it when he put his arm around you.”
“You can put your arm around me now.” I take this as an invitation and pull Lettie close to me. No matter how much time we have together, it never feels like enough. This moment alone is so welcome after the busyness of the party. Above us, the branches quiver with the bees’ riotous buzzing.
“You wouldn’t believe what your Aunt Kate said.”
“I stopped being shocked by what she says years ago.”
“I’m still adjusting.” Lettie looks adorable in a white sundress and yellow sneakers. She told me earlier that Caroline had found the dress for her. The unlikely friendship between Caroline and Lettie is just one of the many happy surprises of the last few months. “I overheard your aunt telling Fiona that she inspired me to start my writing career.”
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Yes, according to your aunt, I was on the verge of giving up my writing last winter when she gave me a much-needed pep talk. ‘Don’t be foolish, girl.’” Lettie gives a fair imitation of my aunt’s voice. “‘If I can be a surgeon, you can write a book.’”
“Do you think Fiona believed her?” I ask. We walk hand in hand, slowly under clouds of trembling blossoms, petals leisurely fall upon us.
“I don’t know. I didn’t bother correcting her. You know... ” She looks over at me with teasing eyes. “I’m angling for those diamonds.”
“You’d have to marry me to be in the running.” Crap! I said that without thinking. I’ve been so careful not to mention marriage around Lettie. I don’t want to scare her off.
“Like I said... ” She catches my eye, and there’s no mistaking her intent. She’s kidding, but she’s not. She’s gently testing the idea with me. Up until now, I’ve never broached the topic. Even if I can’t stop dreaming about spending the rest of my life with her. I even have a ring, my great-grandma’s saphire engagement ring. Lettie saw my mom wearing it a few weeks ago and couldn’t stop admiring it. That night, I asked my mom for the ring. She gave it to me happily.
Her former concerns about Lettie are distant memories. So much so that my mom’s already casually looking for her own place. “Because your wife won’t want to live with her mother-in-law,” she explains. “And you’ll need room for all my grandbabies.” I roll my eyes and protest whenever she says this. But I’m glad she’s on board with Lettie.
I had the ring cleaned and repaired last week. But it’s far too soon to propose, I think. Also, Lettie is a romance writer, and she deserves an epic, romantic proposal. But then again... she likes surprises.
“Lettie, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Um . . . well . . . what do you think I’m saying.” She sounds slightly less confident.
“That you want to marry me?”
“Well, I would like to,” she says with gathering assurance. “I’m not sure how long I can live without Fitz.” Hearing his name, my dog ambles over to Lettie for some pets.
“Good to know,” I say. We stroll a little farther in silence.
“So? What do you think?” she asks tentatively. “About, you know... the whole marrying me thing.”
“I don’t know... you once told me you leave dishes in the sink.” Lettie gives me an aggrieved look.
“You’re the worst,” she says with good humor. She strides ahead and busies herself, snapping photos of almond blossoms against the pink sky. I follow her slowly, gathering my thoughts. Fitz darts after a rabbit. I call him back. He returns and sits beside me. I kneel down on the petal-strewn ground and scratch his head. I slip my hand into my suit coat pocket and pull out the brown velvet ring box. It feels heavy in my palm. Before I can overthink it, Fitz, always the best wingman, barks, getting Lettie’s attention. She whirls around.
“Liam?” She notes that I’m on one knee, holding a ring box. “What is this?” Her expressive eyes flash from surprise to stunned joy. “You’re proposing?” She asks, her voice unsteady, her eyes shining. She steps toward me.
“You asked if I wanted to marry you.” My hand holding the box shakes slightly. “This is my answer.” Still down on one knee, I open the jewelry case. My grandmother’s sapphire glints in the low rays of evening light. “Violet Helena Benson, I love you with my whole heart. Will you marry me?”
She takes the box. And slips the ring on her finger. “Yes, Liam!” She admires her hand. Then whispers, “The ring? How did you know? I really wanted this.”
“Me or the ring?” I ask with a smile.
“Both.” She tugs my hand. “Get up here.” I stand up, dusting petals off my jeans.
She places her hands on my shoulders. “I love you, Liam Darcy,” she whispers, leaning in, her breath warm and sweet across my mouth. She kisses me. I answer her kiss for kiss, wrapping my arms around her. “We will be happy,” she murmurs as I pull her closer. “We will,” I whisper back. And I know deep in my soul that this is true.
“Liam.” She rests her head on my chest and sighs. “That was my dream proposal. Good call going with a surprise versus something elaborate.”
“I surprised myself. I didn’t know I was going to propose today until you brought up marriage.”
“What? How’s that possible?” She asks with delighted disbelief.
“I’ve been carrying the ring with me for about a week now. Just in case.”
“Genius!” She looks up at me, her face full of happiness. “I certainly was shocked in the best possible way.”
She’s so pretty, smiling in her white dress surrounded by almond blossoms. The only thing to do is to kiss her again. We kiss and kiss while the gentle roar of bees surrounds us, envelops us, surges through our blood with the age-old promise of something new and good just beginning.
The End
Thank you so much for reading TOLERABLE.