Epilogue
Two years later
Iris
We wanted to marry two years exactly after the day we met.
But that would be at the height of the Dogwood Festival, so we scheduled our nuptials the day after the festival ends, after the tourists have gone home and everything has returned to normal, mostly.
The wedding takes place in the backyard of MiMi’s Bed and Breakfast, with Aunt Patty officiating.
She’s relinquished her emotional stranglehold on the property.
I like to think she sees what I’ve done with the place and that I’ve made MiMi proud, wherever she is.
She’s still Aunt Patty and still asks lots of judgmental questions.
But at least we’re talking. And she must like Oliver enough to perform our ceremony.
Finn, Oliver’s brother, built an arch for us on the back patio out of fallen logs he cleared out after the big storm that hit last fall. He’s turned out to be a godsend for our little town.
I don’t have any attendants, but Skylar and Maddie have been there through the whole planning process. Of course, Maddie loves to tease me that I didn’t use her matchmaking services to find me a husband, but she adores Oliver anyway.
When Maddie and Ewan renewed their vows on the beach last month, Oliver gifted them with a beautiful handmade bowl.
And speaking of handmade, my now-husband did run into a little bit of luck after backing out of the lease agreement with Pete.
Turns out that the national chain juice bar closed, and there was another vacancy in town.
Oliver moved right in, and it works perfectly as a gallery.
Finn also helped him build a classroom in the back, and the waiting list is months long.
As for Skylar, her store, Raven Books, Music & Sundries, is the first bookstore to last more than a year in our little town, and, as far as anyone can tell, it’s doing brisk business.
The place fits in pretty well, with poetry readings once a month, book clubs every weekend, knitting groups, witchy groups, and regular meetups with the tabletop gaming crowd.
Finn buying that building from Pete certainly helped reduce her rent from several thousand dollars a month to, well, nothing.
I’m proud to know and love every single person in my little group that we’ve assembled here today for our wedding.
Oliver dances with me under the moonlight, long after everyone has gone home.
“That’s one advantage of having Skylar make a playlist instead of hiring a deejay,” Oliver says, with his arm hooked around my back as we sway together under the flowered arch on my back porch. Our back porch.
I sigh happily in agreement.
“How long are we going to leave this arch up?”
I laugh. “Until the guests complain.”
This is our running joke whenever things get overwhelming or messy.
Just leave it until the guests complain.
No one ever does, because the only time we open up for guests now is during the Dogwood Festival, and for the Christmas Carnival, when the whole town becomes a holiday wonderland.
Other than that, we only use the carriage house for family who visit.
The song switches to another slow one by that band that Oliver and I both like.
“Ready to go in? Or can we finish out with one more song?” Oliver asks.
My feet are tired, but I’ll never say no to one more dance with my man.
My Oliver.
“One more,” I say.
And he kisses me like he’s kissed me a thousand times before, until the clouds roll in over the ridge and the moon is high.
Until the sky is velvet black. Until the barred owl hoots in the tall trees.
Soon enough we will go inside, and he will kiss me some more, like I know he’ll be kissing me when we’re old and gray.
He’s not going anywhere, and he proved it.
My man. My Oliver.
THE END