“Hey, Danny?”
“Yeah, Gracie?”
“I’d say ‘be safe,’ but you’re not driving, so you should be fine.” She winks.
I flip her off before giving her a final hug, one that best friends and lovers give. There are only four parting words left to say, and I murmur them into her hair.
“First love, last love.”
Epilogue
Grace
One Year Later
Istretch in bed and check the clock—8:00 a.m. Today is Mae’s birthday. Danny and I have plans to celebrate in ways that would definitely win her approval.
First, we’ll grab brunch in the Short North, where we’ll people-watch and gossip…but only in Pig Latin. Next, we plan to visit her favorite spa and get facials because she would absolutely tell me that my skin currently looks “drier than a saltine.” Then, we’re going to end the day by bringing two honey sticks to her grave and sharing our favorite Mae memories.
We’ve had the most amazing time in Ohio since Danny retired earlier this year. It’s been filled with charity work, lunches at the animal clinic, and nights at our new house just outside of Columbus.
We’re house-sitting Danny’s childhood home this week while Janie and Roger are on vacation. Danny’s finally conquered Janie’s famous cinnamon roll recipe, which was a surprise for all of us. He even hung up the recipe on our new robot fridge, like a C student who finally aced a test.
Danny’s picked me a fresh flower from Janie’s garden every single day this week, and I can’t wait to see what he put in the painted vase today. My guess is one of the deep pink roses that just bloomed. I hustle downstairs, expecting to hear his voice or music playing, but the house is completely empty.
Peering around the corner into the main family room, I shout, “Danny?”
I walk into Janie’s office next and call out his name again. Nothing. When I meander back to the kitchen, I find a note with my name on it taped to the refrigerator. My mouth falls open.Why does this look like… It can’t be though, right?Because it looks like Mae’s handwriting. And the name on the front is a dead (pun intended) giveaway—Queen Bee. Buthow?
No time to ponder as my ferocious curiosity takes over. I rip open the envelope and start sobbing the minute I read the title at the top.
To be Opened on the Day of Your Engagement
Bee,
To answer your top two questions:
1. Yes, you’re getting engaged today. Surprise!
2. Janie is the one who held onto this letter in the event you would be in Ohio for your proposal. It was all very “Mission Impossible” of us.
I’m writing to you, on the day of your proposal, for one reason: to tell you that your mother would be staggeringly thrilled with the person you are today. You are more than she ever hoped or dreamed. “Proud” wouldn’t even come close to a word bigenough to describe how she would feel about you and all you’ve accomplished.
And she would feel the same way about that neighbor boy. You have no idea the amount of gratitude I have in my heart for Daniel. While I wish, with all my heart, that I could’ve gotten to you sooner, I’m resting peacefully knowing he’s getting you forever.
When your mom was nearing her end, she didn’t expend a lot of energy talking, but I do remember her saying this: “I can’t believe I’m going to miss all of the big, brave things she does.”
Keep doing those big, brave things. We’ll be watching from wherever we are.
Love you like bees love honey.
Mae
P.S. He’s bound to mess up the proposal somehow, dear. Knowing him, he’ll force you to hike up a mountain to get the ring. We both know you barely have the lung capacity to walk ten laps around a department store without getting winded. Whatever he has planned, please do take an inhaler. I’d hate to see you soon.
I reread the letter.
A proposal…it doesn’t feel real. I wipe my face with the kitchen dish towel that lives on the oven handle. I just want to see Danny. Am I supposed to wait here for a smoke signal that will lead me to where I might be getting engaged? Is this the part where I meticulously apply contour so I look beautiful for a secret photographer like some kind of celebrity?
