End of Story(84)

I rested my head on the back of the couch and stared into his eyes. He was the future I wanted. Right there beside me. And I trusted in us far more than I trusted in some cryptic piece of paper. “I say we let it go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “That’s good enough for me.”



Epilogue


Ten Years Later

December 4


“Mama,” hollered Ingrid. “I’m hungry. Can you give me some cheese?”

“Your child is part mouse. Are you aware of this?” I asked my husband. To our seven-year-old daughter I replied, “I didn’t hear a please.”

“Puh-lease.”

“And you’re eating an apple with it.”

She groaned and made gagging noises—as you do when you’re a small child being threatened with fruit.

“I’ll get it.” Lars smiled and paused the Seahawks game. “Ingrid, your mother and I would like to know if you’re a mouse? What do you think?”

“She does live in the attic,” I said. “It’s a fair question.”

Ingrid giggled and squeaked.

“What do you think? Is your sister part rodent or just overly fascinated with aged dairy products?” I asked the small boy child attached to my left boob. “Look who I’m talking to, your whole life revolves around milk.”

As soon as news of the baby reached our eldest child’s ears, she started her campaign to relocate to the attic. The nursery took over the second bedroom and my office was now a corner of our bedroom.

The truth was, our family had outgrown this house. While Lars hadn’t said a thing, I knew he was waiting for me to broach the subject—and I kept avoiding it. Leaving Aunt Susan’s place was going to hurt. It had been my home for a long time, but we didn’t necessarily have to move far.

Once Lars delivered a bowl of apple and cheese slices to our daughter, he got resettled in the wingback chair.

“Miss Lillian’s old house has three bedrooms,” I said, apropos of nothing. “And the principal bedroom is larger than ours. There’d be more room for me to set up an office. More room for all of us.”

Lars’s gaze rested on me, but he said nothing.

“We know the work done on it was good because it was done by you, Tore, and Mateo.”

“I saw they put up a For Sale sign yesterday.”

“Just a thought.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to move?”

I sighed. “Not going to lie. I kind of hate the idea. But we’ve outgrown this place.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“I could find you a place with a water view.” He smiled. “If you wanted.”

“Ingrid wouldn’t have to change schools if we stayed nearby. And we like this area.”

He nodded. “We do.”

“The house also has good vibes.”

He chuckled.

“Would you be okay with that?”

“Yes, Princess.” He rose out of his chair and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Then a kiss to his son’s. And the smile on his face was happy and warm. “I’ll give them a call. Set up a time for us to do a walk-through in the next few days.”

“You really are ready to move.”

“As long as we’re all together, I’m good. But you’re right. We need more room.” He knelt down at my side. “Why don’t we rent this place? That way it’ll still be yours. We can always think about coming back here once the kids are out of the house.”

“I’d like that.” I smiled. “I was also thinking, instead of getting divorced today, why don’t we order some takeout to share?”

He frowned. Then said, “That is today, isn’t it? Damn.”

We hadn’t completely forgotten the divorce certificate. Though I thought of it less and less over the years. And we never found it either. But we’d won. We were still here. It hurt to imagine what it would have been like if we’d never taken the chance to be together. All of the goodness we would have missed out on in life.

“We did it,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Yeah. We sure did.”

“Never doubted us. Not once.”

Could you burst from happy? It would be messy. But I think it’s doable. For the last decade I’d been trying my best to make it happen. My work had grown surely, but steadily. Same went for Lars and Tore’s house-flipping business. Cleo and Tore moved into a beautiful houseboat several years ago and were considering attempting to reproduce sometime soon. They’d also done their best to travel the world. Cleo took on work for several magazines and won numerous awards over the years. Life was good.

“We should definitely celebrate with takeout,” said Lars. “How about pizza and cupcakes?”

“Have I ever told you how incredibly alluring you are?” I asked.

“Cupcakes?” Ingrid crashed into her father’s back. “We’re getting cupcakes?”

“Ew,” I said. “Who wants smelly yucky cupcakes?”

“Me, me, me.”

“I think I know where our daughter gets her food obsessions from,” Lars said with a grin. “Why don’t you pass him over to me and I’ll put him to bed? Then we’ll see about some food.”