Wildfire: A Novel: Epilogue

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Aurora holds her stomach, groaning dramatically. I drape my arm across her shoulders, tugging her closer until I can kiss the top of her head. I’ve spent the last six weeks reassuring her, and now I’m just giving her affection because she doesn’t listen to me anyway. “This was a horrible idea. Why did you let me do this?”

“What happened to ‘Aurora Callaghan doesn’t have bad ideas’ and ‘When have I ever been wrong?’ or—”

“Okay, okay,” she says. “You’ve made your point.” Aurora moves in front of me, leaning back against my chest, as we both stare up at the Happy Endings sign above the bookstore door. “What if nobody wants to buy books from me because I’m not a family business?”

“We are a family business. I’ll write it on the window with a Sharpie if you want me to.”

“I’m not sure you, me, and the animals count as a family business.”

Pressing my lips to her neck, I drown in the sweet smell of her perfume. I hate how hard her pulse is hammering. Nervous Rory is the version of my wife I see the least, but buying the old bookstore in Meadow Springs has given her lots of things to be nervous about.

“I feel like that type of claim is going to land us in front of the Committee of Commitments to Town Improvements and Other Important Announcements.”

“Mrs. Brown has been dying to get us back there after she lost the name-change vote,” I reply.

Apparently, Happy Endings sounds like an erotic massage parlor, and will only invite misfits and deviants to the town. I wanted to argue that a misfit and a deviant bought the store, but Jenna stressed that the MSCCTIOIA was not a place for jokes.

When Jenna took over Honey Acres from her mom two years ago, the committee of chaos and nonsense demanded she do a business presentation, despite the fact they’ve known her since she was born and she’s been on the committee for the last fifteen years. She made a few jokes about said history to lighten the mood, which, surprisingly, did quite the opposite.

Rory sighs heavily. “I do plan to promote sin; she wasn’t totally wrong.”

“Wait until she hears about the hot tub delivery,” I say, gently pushing her in the direction of her new business.

Moving to Meadow Springs wasn’t a difficult decision; it’s always been special to us, especially after working three summers at Honey Acres together. What can I say? It really is like a great tea-cozy museum.

Aurora was tired of her job in the sales team at a small publishing house, and desperate to get out of the city. Then I received a promotion at the engineering firm I work for, and the new remote role only requires me to travel a couple of times a month, so we started packing our boxes to start our new life.

After Jenna sold us the land and haunted house where we had our first date, we spent the last eighteen months turning it into our dream home. The amount of land has given Aurora big ideas for all the animals we can now rescue.

Even though I said no to getting a puppy when Aurora told me Fish was having another unplanned litter—in my defense, we were fresh out of college—I came home from a work trip one day and found not one, but two golden balls of fur in my living room, appropriately named Tuna and Flounder. She immediately blamed Anastasia, who had apparently talked her into it, after getting their sibling, Bunny.

Since then I’ve said no to but still ended up owning: Neville, a rescue border collie with a penchant for daytime television; Mary-Kate and Ashley, two black cats that, even though it’s been three years since we rescued them, I still cannot tell apart; and our latest adoption, Beryl, a pig that can’t decide if it’s a dog or a cat, but definitely knows it’s not a pig.

Aurora really wanted them all here today for the opening of her bookstore, but I suggested that unleashing three dogs, two cats, and a pig onto her new neighbors maybe wasn’t the best idea. She countered that they behaved at our wedding, to which I argued that I’m not sure Jenna officiating on our back deck while Emilia sipped on a margarita can be considered a wedding. Thankfully, I won that argument.

The bell jingles above our heads as we walk through the freshly painted door, and the store that was once dark and musty is now bright and revived. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but your dad really knocked it outta the park with these,” she says, trailing her hand across the new wooden bookshelves.

I nod, humming in agreement. Dad has worked nonstop for weeks to make sure this entire place looks exactly how Rory wants it. He drew her sketch upon sketch, produced sample upon sample, and at one point, I’m pretty sure they made a digital vision board together.

It was strange living with him on the weekdays he was here working, especially since I haven’t lived with him since I was a freshman. He’d offered to stay in a local B and B, but Aurora was insistent that he stay with us. I was nervous at first, unsure how things would be despite our relationship being so much better than it was all those years ago. I think the weirdest part for me was starting to miss him on the weekends when he’d go back to Maple Hills.

We said he didn’t need to leave, and Mom could come to us, but he’s a sponsor now at Gambler’s Anonymous, so he likes to be local in case any of the people he’s helping work through their addiction need his support.

I think Rory needed the father figure to help her, too, given her own father’s absence. I overheard Dad reassuring her more times than I can count while he stayed with us. My parents both love my wife; so much so that I only got yelled at once for our spontaneous, guestless wedding. They were just happy she was finally officially their daughter.

Aurora’s heels click against the hardwood floor as she paces up and down the aisles in search of something to panic about. I follow her, strolling slowly with my hands in my pockets, listening to her huff and puff her way around what is a perfect bookstore.

“Sweetheart . . .”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” she grumbles, spinning to face me. She plants her hands on her hips and pouts. “You did this, Russ Callaghan. You told me I could run my own business. A bookstore, no less. Not even a bar or a strip club or something I might actually be good a—”

Whatever she was about to say dies when I close the space between us, taking her face between my hands and pressing my mouth against hers. Her body melts into me, the tension dissipating with every passing second. Moving my hands to cup the nape of her neck, I rest my forehead against hers. “You are the most capable woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you could suggest that I wouldn’t support. I will be there to hold your hand through all of it, Ror, but you don’t need me to. You’ve never needed me to be incredible. You. Just. Are. And I love you more than I can put into words.”

“I love you, too.” Her arms wrap around my neck, her big green eyes staring into mine. “This is our last chance alone all weekend. Tell me a secret, Callaghan.”

Secrets aren’t really a thing between us. I’ve spent so many years with Aurora that her ability to overshare has finally rubbed off a little. “I did eat your Cheetos last week. It wasn’t Neville. He looked at me with such judgment when I blamed him that I felt guilty for, like, three days.”

Those eyes I love so much roll extra-dramatically. “No shit. You had orange dust all over your face. Try again.”

It’s the try again that throws me. Like she’s waiting for me to admit something specific, something she already knows, which isn’t how this game works. Our friends and neighbors will be arriving soon for the opening, but she’s still staring up at me expectantly.

And that’s when I realize.

She knows.

“Oh shit.” The corner of her mouth tugs up into a smirk. “I invited your mom and forgot to tell you.”

“Oh shit is right, because yes, you did.”

“How did you know?”

“Because she called me to confirm I’d be serving good champagne.”

“I thought I’d escaped being forced into bookstores with Aurora,” Henry sighs, eyes scanning the tall mahogany shelves lined with new books. “And yet here I am. Again.”

Aurora wanted the kids’ corner painted like the northern lights, so she enlisted her favorite—and possibly the only person she knows who can do it—artist to help her. The painting he was good with. It was helping make the hundreds of tiny origami stars to hang from the ceiling that got him.

“Here we both are.” I nudge his shoulder with mine playfully. “Thanks for bringing those signed editions, man. Aurora appreciates you being here. We both do.”

“It’s fine; it means less books in my house. She’d have come, but it’s just a bit far with the baby and—”

“What about me?”

We both look at the child perched on Henry’s hip, clinging to him like he’s her favorite toy—which he pretty much is. “Yes, Mila. We’re very happy you’re here, too.”

She smiles brightly, which reminds me the older she gets, the more it’s like staring at Stassie. “Uncle Henry, can I have my ice cream now? It’s been the mandatory five minutes.”

Henry drops her to her feet and nudges her away. “Go ask your dad for money.”

“Mandatory five minutes?” I ask as we watch her crash into Nate’s legs, shouting her request up to him. Nate pauses his conversation with Emilia, sighing as he reaches for his wallet, scowling at Henry from across the room as he places some bills in his daughter’s palm.

“Mandatory five minutes of socializing,” Henry says.

I smother a laugh with my coffee and Mila comes barreling back toward us. “He said I have to get the twins some, too, but they’re taking a nap, so I don’t think they need any and we should get extra for us.”

“That sounds reasonable. Come on, kiddo.” She reaches up to take Henry’s hand and the pair of them head in the direction of the ice cream shop, The Little Moo, leaving me to fend for myself. I still don’t love being the center of attention, and I’m thankful today is about Aurora. A mixture of customers and friends are scattered around the room, each scanning the shelves, chatting with each other. I can see JJ and Alex talking to my parents, Stassie rocking a double stroller as she talks to Jenna, Mrs. Brown intensely inspecting the romance section. What was an old, forgotten bookstore not that long ago now feels full of life.

I know my mother-in-law is in here somewhere, so I’m avoiding our inevitable meeting for as long as possible by keeping myself busy, taking candid photographs of everyone like Aurora taught me. That’s when I take the best one: Aurora, behind the cash register with the biggest smile on her face, selling a huge pile of books to someone. The light pouring in through the windows is making her practically glow. I’m immediately overwhelmed by her beauty, and the feeling of pride that she did all of this herself.

She spots me watching her while her customer looks down, patting around their body to find their wallet. I mouth “I love you” and she mouths it back. I mouth “I’m so proud of you,” and she mouths back something that looks like “I’m proud of how hot you are.” It’s the moment that all the moving, all the renovations, all the working in my boxers because I couldn’t find the box with our clothes feels totally worth it. Everything brought us here, to being this blissfully happy.

After another hour, I realize that I won’t be able to work from the store like I was planning to. I’ll get absolutely no work done if I’m staring at my wife all day. Rory is a natural, like I knew she would be, and every customer makes her relax a bit more.

When the opening party starts to wind down and she steps away from behind the register, someone, likely JJ, shouts, “Speech!” We all watch in awe as she accepts a glass of champagne and throws it back quickly. Sarah tuts disapprovingly, but Aurora is an expert at not listening to her mom’s complaints. “It’s for courage.” She laughs. “Um . . .”

I make my way through the people who have gathered around her so she can see me front and center. Her shoulders relax, and her eyes lock on me.

“Thank you everyone for being here today. Really, thank you. I can’t believe it. I know a lot of you have traveled a long way, and I’ve promised those of you staying with us pancakes in the morning, and this is my way of telling you that I’m really terrible at making pancakes.” She really is. “Thank you to the people of Meadow Springs for welcoming us into your community. I know it wasn’t easy at first, but Russ and I feel so at home here. For everyone else who might not know, many years ago, I made a joke about opening a strip club here. Apparently nobody forgot.”

Everyone in the room laughs, and out of the corner of my eye I spot Mrs. Brown muttering something to John from one of the bowling stores. “Thank you to everyone who helped get the store ready. My wonderful father-in-law for spending all his time making sure things were perfect; my friends for helping get rid of that awful magnolia color; and for helping to make hundreds of tiny stars. Thanks to my mom for sending me carefully curated lists of books I should buy.

“God, this is turning into an Oscar speech. I’ll wrap it up. It’s no secret that I love books. I love stories about people I don’t know, and places I haven’t been to. I’ve lived a thousand lives between a thousand pages, but no story, no life, no page has ever made me as happy as you do, Russ Callaghan.” Everyone awws, and I feel the tips of my ears turn pink. “Before I met you, I hadn’t considered what my happy ending might look like. I wasn’t sure I’d get one. You’re my happy ending, Russ. I fell in love with you in this place, and watching you help build our life here has made me fall in love with you a million more times. Thank you for giving me a life that feels too good to be true. Thank you for letting me bring home animals even when you say no. Thank you for letting me live my dreams every day.”

I want to rush over there and kiss her until her lips turn pink, but this is her job now and I don’t want to embarrass her. Instead, I raise my glass in her direction. “To happy endings.”

She raises her glass. “And unlimited pets.”

“No,” I immediately respond, but it’s too late.

“To happy endings and unlimited pets,” the room echoes.