Grak, Demetria, and I live in the cabin in the woods, where Grak spent his first night here on the farm. He’s helped us fix it up so nicely that it seemed like a no-brainer for us to move out of my parents’ basement apartment.
Although May and Thomas still live far away, we’re thriving enough to hire seasonal workers, taking much of the burden off us.
On top of everything, an anonymous benefactor covered Mom’s medical bills. Grak won’t cop to it, but I suspect this was a gift from Santa Claus.
“That’s enough sap,” I say, gently nudging her with my foot.
Mom fluffs my hair. “Done! And I agree. Enough of that. Go spray your hair, and let’s get this wedding going.”
The family all sit together, with a front row seat to Mom and Dad’s vow renewal in the refurbished barn. In the off-season, when we’re not selling Christmas trees, the barn is used as an event center. Couples clamor to get married at the AllmanChristmas Tree Farm and Event Center, and we often have a year-long waiting list. It could be the beautiful wooded setting, or it could be that guests from out of town want to get a look at the famous handyman orc.
Whatever keeps us in the black, I’m happy, as long as Grak doesn’t get taken advantage of or treated like a side show freak.
He’s so kind to everyone he meets, I worry sometimes. But the locals have turned out to be very protective of their local orc.
My arm snugly tucks in under Grak’s arm, and I lean in and touch my head to his shoulder. My husband of nine years kisses the top of my head, and a feeling of contentment washes over me.
Ashley and Reese wear matching suits as they escort Mom and Dad to the arch in the front, decorated with white and red roses. Mom carries a bouquet that matches, and my mind goes back to the day that Grak and I were married in the game.
“Hey,” I whisper, pointing out the flowers.
“I saw it too,” he murmurs.
A few months after Grak came to me in real life, we had our own wedding here on the farm, too. Although it wasn’t a shabby chic barn ceremony, like this one. We recreated the exact scene from the game, as best we could, complete with ice sculptures and only a dozen or so close friends as guests.
It was sweet, private, and beautiful. The woodland creatures, all attracted by Grak’s pheromones, came in droves to watch.
Even the skunks.
Following the ceremony, everyone helps to clear the barn and make room for the dance.
The reception lasts into the wee hours of the night. Grak carries the sleeping Demetria up to the main house and down to the basement apartment. The cabin is too far to walk this late at night, especially in a dress and heels. The whole family hasdecided to stay together at Mom and Dad’s, and it’s been a fun and cozy reunion.
Once Demetria is tucked in, snug in my old bed, Grak eyes the gamer desk in the corner.
The setup hasn’t changed since we moved into the cabin, except now there are two chairs and two monitors instead of one.
He then looks at me longingly.
“You want to play?” I ask.
He grunts affirmatively.
It’s two o’clock in the morning, but that never stopped us before.
I sit down in my chair, and he takes his spot at his station, and we fire up Deadsky: Survival.
“What are we fighting tonight, Grak?”
He hums thoughtfully as he types in my user name. This game hasn’t had updates for over 10 years, yet we still do this sometimes.
“What would you say to building another Christmas village with me?” Grak suggests.
I smile. “You don’t want to slay any trolls? No zombies?”
He shrugs. “Nah. I was thinking we could build a skating rink and invite all the monsters.”
“Let’s do it, and see what happens.”
Grak shuts off the lights, and we sit together in front of the glowing screens. Demetria snores softly.
We find each other in the game and start building yet another Christmas village.
If we have to fight something, we’ll do it. But building is always more fun.
In the game, and in real life.
THE END
