EPILOGUE Sophie
EPILOGUE
Sophie
May
“You got it?”
“I got it, baby,” Callum assures me as he continues to expertly climb up the ladder, balancing the casserole dish in one hand and somehow maneuvering his way up the—reinforced last month—ladder.
I still watch, holding my breath as he stretches up, puts the casserole dish in the treehouse, and then pulls himself in.
“We should rig a pulley system,” I say, though when I say we, I really mean Callum will do it.
Over the last months that we’ve lived in the house, we’ve been fixing it up. Callum, from years of working with his dad in contracting, can do just about anything around the house.
I didn’t want any big changes. There was really no reason to change what’s already wonderful, just small fixes here and there. Fresh coats of paint, standing and restaining the wood floors, filling in dents in the walls, no doubt from two rambunctious boys living here for years.
The most fun part for me was picking out furniture with Callum—a brand new California King Mattress, because my otter is quite big.
We hit thrift stores, antique shops, and estate sales with Maeve, always on the hunt for tables and dressers.
None of that glorified cardboard. We wanted real wooden furniture that was built to last. Callum sanded them down, restored them, making them look brand new while still retaining their original charm.
We’ve also bought new couches, chairs, and our bedframes for our bedroom and the guest bedroom. The third bedroom, well, we’ve left that one open for any potential future Rhodes.
Last week, Callum finished putting together all of the deck furniture: a table, chairs, and a big umbrella for dinners outside.
I can just imagine having our family over this summer.
Tonya grilling. Everyone playing cornhole, with music in the background, before we all have dinner. It finally feels finished and settled.
We’ve developed a good system: I have the ideas, Callum executes them.
While I feel we’ve finally reached the stage of the house where it feels complete, I think I might just have never-ending projects that pop into my mind, like the pulley system. I smile at the thought of Callum and me working on this house forever.
That sounds just fine to me.
The pulley system should jump to the front, though. It was difficult carrying that wine bottle and those glasses up earlier, but Callum suggested that, since it’s Friday, we should get dressed up and have a picnic dinner in the treehouse. I’ll never say no to a date with him.
I had made Callum’s latest favorite meal, the salmon cooked on the cedar plank that he practically moans over whenever I make it, and I even got dessert delivered from April. I’m trying to savor all of the baked goods I can get from her before she heads off to culinary school in the fall.
A picnic on this warm spring night sounds wonderful.
Callum reaches an arm down to easily pull me into the treehouse.
Like always, I smile when I see the inside.
Fairy lights hang at the top, connected to a solar battery.
We swept all the leaves and dirt off the floor and laid down a beautiful, soft rug for us to sit on.
Callum even installed tempered glass into the windows.
I call it our vacation home. It makes him laugh.
But it’s truly wonderful to come out here and escape from everything for a while.
That thought makes me laugh as I crawl over to my spot, and Callum shoots me a curious look.
“Have you ever read the Magic Tree House books?”
Callum’s eyes brighten with nostalgia as he laughs, “I used to read those books in this treehouse. I used to think if I just followed the directions and wished it hard enough, I’d climb down from this Tree House and... be where I wanted to be.”
“Where would you want to go?”
“I used to love Little House on the Prairie,” Callum admits with a shy chuckle. “I liked the idea of homesteading... with my wife and kids.”
“And can I be the wife in this scenario?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.
Callum’s eyes shift at that, melting into that warm chocolate I always love as a mix of emotions flashes across his face. He clears his throat and smiles at me, replying softly, “I’d like that.”
I lean forward and press a kiss to his bearded cheek before grabbing the wine chilling in the cooler and the two glasses. Before I can pour, Callum’s gentle voice stops me.
Callum gestures behind me and says, “Sweet girl, can you grab that book for me? Just reminded me that I wanted to show you something.”
Turning to where he’s pointing, I see a small stack of books in the corner. I grab the one at the top and go to hand it to Callum, before I freeze.
A Happy Ending, the book’s title engraved in gold with two little gold otters under it. At the bottom are our names in a delicate cursive—Sophie + Callum.
Frowning in confusion, I open the book and suck in a quick breath.
On the pages, aren’t the words. It’s our pictures, starting at the beginning.
A perfect chronological timeline of our relationship.
Callum and I at my birthday party, and on the boardwalk, watching our sunsets, and candid pictures of us taken by the book club.
Birthdays, Boston, Christmases, and holidays, and. .. love.
Life.
The life that we have built together.
Then I get halfway through and my hand shoots to my mouth to cover my gasp.
“Callum..."
The entire back of the book is carved out, a little ring holder holding an absolutely gorgeous oval moonstone ring on a gold band.
My hand goes to the moonstone that still hangs around my neck, my gift from Maeve.
This stone always grants me the strength I need to face anything, and the fact that Callum skipped the diamond and decided to choose a stone that means more to me makes me somehow fall even deeper in love with this man.
When I turn back to Callum, he’s on one knee and is looking at me with such affection it makes me breathless.
“I love you, Sophie,” Callum’s voice cracks in half, before he clears it and continues on, his voice a deadly combination of firm yet still so tender.
“My mom always said to be patient, and that love would find me. You found me. The day you walked into that shop was the greatest day of my life, and every moment with you since then has been nothing but joy. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.
You remained kind and compassionate through cancer.
You accept me as I am and still love me for it—”
“I do,” I crawl closer to him and reach out to brush a tear tracking down his cheek.
He briefly closes his eyes and leans into my touch, reveling in it. He lifts up his hand and holds mine to his cheek, pressing a kiss to the palm, and I realize how the scratch of his beard is so familiar and so comforting to me.
When those warm eyes open again, they’re practically blazing with passion as he swears to me, “I will love you, trust you, honor you, and choose you every single day for the rest of our lives. When it’s hard, when life really tries us, if cancer.
.. if it comes again, we will fight and come out on the other side.
Every single day. And then even when we’re not on this Earth anymore, my soul will still choose you, Sophie. ”
I choke out a sob, tears falling without restraint now as Callum leans down to kiss the back of my hand.
“Will you marry me, my otter—”
My lips are already on his, arms around his neck, and his back hits the floor with a thump that I can’t feel bad for in this moment because he just asked me to marry him.
“Yes.”
◆◆◆
September
When you have a lot of hands, it’s surprisingly easy to put together a wedding.
Granted, it’s in our backyard, thanks in part to The Salvatores. They have enough money, enough influence to throw around and get people moving. The night Callum proposed, I called Bailey. She squealed so loudly I think I heard the echo all the way from Boston.
When we said we didn’t want to wait long and were looking at an early September wedding, Bailey immediately said she understood. With her having top-notch wedding planners take over the extravaganza that’s going to be the Banks-Salvatore wedding, she really wanted a new project to get her hands on.
Our wedding was the perfect project for her.
Starting with the dress, which thankfully took no time at all.
Bailey rented out an entire boutique for me to try on dresses.
Tonya, Tess, Jane, April, Donna, and Maeve came along to help me choose, and when I found it—the dress—there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.
Even April and Jane, who usually remain so composed, were passing tissues to each other.
It was a soft, romantic fairy-tale dress. Off the shoulder, slightly puffed sleeves, fitted bodice, and a long train. I felt beautiful and feminine in it. Maybe a little too formal for our backyard, but after everything I have been through, I simply did not care.
When you’ve faced The Big C, things really get put into perspective. I’m only getting married once, to Callum, and I want to look beautiful.
I want the fairy tale.
And unbelievably, I got it.
Sasha came to do my hair and makeup, styling my now mid-back waves into soft curls, pinning a few pieces back from my face. I decided against a veil—the dress did not need embellishment, and I wanted simplicity.
Plot was disgruntled with all of the invaders in his house. He was hiding in one of his many cat trees in the home, but I still managed to coax him out, put a bow tie on him, and take some pictures. He was given many treats for his sacrifice.
For my something blue, I slipped into a pair of Cinderella-blue flats gifted by Jane, so light, comfortable, and easy to walk in.
Donna gave me a pair of pearl earrings that she had worn on her own wedding day, my something borrowed.
My something new was the white lingerie I wore under my dress that Callum would tear off me later.