“But if you bring a hot dog with you, I think you’ll be golden,” he says.
“A hot dog? For a cat?”
“Blame Jasper.” He groans. “He’s my cat sitter. Clearly, not a good one. But Otis gets a bad rap for being an orange cat. And the one time my mom watched him, he got out of her house and went on a bender with Blooper, and it was traumatic for all involved.”
He drips a handful of water onto my chest and watches it trickle back into the bath.
“Have you given any thought about what you’re going to do now that you’re in retirement?” I ask, still surprised that he walked away from fighting. “That seemed to come out of nowhere, so I just wondered if you had a plan or were being spontaneous.”
“I’ve not thought about it directly very much, but it’s been in the back of my mind now. My heart hasn’t been in it for a while now.” He sinks deeper into the water. “I don’t actuallyneedthe money. As long as I’m not buying yachts—well, I couldn’t afford a yacht—but if I’m not blowing it just to blow it, I’ll be fine. I have a good money guy who makes sure I’m set up.” He snorts. “And my mom. If I buy too much at the grocery store, she’s complaining about wasting money. And now you.” He squeezes me. “I’ll buy you whatever I damn well want.”
I smile, pulling his arms tighter around me.
“Alfie always needs help,” he says. “He’s getting old. He’s hinted around about selling it a few times, but nothing serious. Just running his mouth, mostly, when he’s pissed. But in a couple of years, I think he’ll want to part with it, and that might be something I’m into.”
“And then our hypothetical kids can train there.”
“With Gray and Hartley’s hypothetical kids.” He pauses. “And Jasper’s but Jasper is kind of a pussy about shit, so they might play hopscotch or something instead.”
I laugh. “That’s not nice.”
“Hey, it’s the truth. But what about you? Can you still teach from Sugar Creek?”
“Yes, I can, if I want to. But I might take a bit of time off and explore other things.” I look over my shoulder at him. “I have one of those money people, too.”
He snorts. “I was at the party tonight. I gathered that.”
I don’t know what I want to do for certain, but I know it’ll be okay. Just because I have a doctorate in one thing doesn’t prohibit me from doing something else. I own it. It doesn’t own me. And it’s taken me a long time to understand that.
The older I get, the more I understand that life is a continuous roller coaster. It’s not what I expected when I went into college to earnmy degree, find a job, and love it until I die. That’s highly unrealistic. Possible, but the exception, I’d say, rather than the rule. But as the roller coaster dips and dives, rises and falls, as long as your cart is safely on the tracks, surrounded by good people, good food, and enough fun, you can enjoy the ride.
And, oh, what a ride it’s been.
I grin.
And I bet it’s about to get even better.
EPILOGUE #1
Audrey
2 months later …
“I never dreamed, in a million, zillion years, that you would have a tattoo!” Gianna peers at my hip. “I mean, it might be the tiniest tattoo in the world, but it’s there.”
The small flour-leaf cloveristiny, but it felt perfect. It’s green, like Brooks’s eyes, and it represents extraordinary fortune, which is how I feel in my life. So,sofortunate. He got one on the same day—two locks hooked together with no key. One has a B where the key would fit, the other an A. He says it means that we were destined to be together. I think he was tired of waiting at the tattoo parlor and just went with the first thing he saw. But his answer is cuter, so I’ll go with that.
Gray shakes his head, amused, as always. He doesn’t know what to do with all of us together. Sure, he’ll chop it up with the guys, and he loves a good poker tournament. But things move fast around here, and sometimes I think he just watches and tries to stay out of the way.
Drake hands him a beer as he passes. “So, what are you getting next, Audrey?”
“I don’t think I am getting another one.”
“She cried,” Brooks says, deadpan.
“No, I did not.” I laugh as he pulls me onto his lap. “I mean, maybe I squirted a little tear out, but it hurt!”
The gang is spread across Hartley’s living room with full bellies thanks to Cathy. I helped her pack the leftovers into old margarine containers and ice cream buckets for storage in the fridge. This habit of hers is one of my favorites.
