Page 89 of Beautiful Small Things

I hold my class up and the group yells, “CHEERS!”

THE END.

Epilogue

Marcus - 50th Birthday

“You’re unbelievable!” James seethes.

“What did I do?” I ask, completely undeserving of her ire. She’s been furious ever since I told her what I wanted to do today.

“You know,” she starts, and her tone tells me I’m in deep trouble. “When you mentioned wanting to do something ‘bad-ass’ for your fiftieth birthday, I assumed you meant getting drunk with your friends. Maybe a day on the boat. The kids could come. We’d have food and family. It would be a good time.”

“That does sound nice,” I muse, “But I want to do something a little more life-affirming today.”

“Honestly, Marcus, the fact that I don’t smother you in your sleep every night should be plenty life-affirming.”

My lips twitch as I fight the smile that dares to break free.

“James, love of my life, my cherished bride, I hate to point this out on account of you possibly pushing me off a cliff, but you knew I wanted to do this thirty years ago.”

“I thought you were joking!” she snaps, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. She’s adorable.

“Well, I wasn’t,” I tell her calmly as she huffs. “Baby,” I remind her, “when you and your sister were deciding on what to do for your father’s fiftieth birthday party, I told you guys I wanted to do something extreme for mine. You were all sitting there.”

“I thought you were high,” she grits out through clenched teeth.

“And I probably was,” I agree calmly. “But that doesn’t negate the fact that I have always wanted to celebrate in spectacular fashion.”

“I’m fucking naked!” she screams.

The poor gentlemen I’ve hired to help with this excursion are looking anywhere but at us. The discretion is appreciated, especially since my nuts are currently hanging out of a harness.

“I’m going to get cable burns on my vulva!” She shouts even louder.

This time Fernando and Victor snicker loud enough for us to hear.

“Now you’re just overreacting,” I tease. “If anyone’s body is getting cable and fabric burns, it’s my huge cock and balls.”

“This isn’t funny, Marcus. Of all the things we could do in Costa Rica—“

“And we’ve done some amazing things,” I interrupt. “We hiked up to a volcano. We went to a sloth sanctuary.”

She crosses her arms and looks away. “Where you said I couldn’t have one.”

“They smelled like donkey dick, Babe. They are cute but smelled like they died a few months ago.”

“Whatever,” she says under her breath.

“Hey, look at me,” I tell her. “It’s just us here. Just me and you.”

“And Fernando and Victor,” she says, motioning to our helpers, who are still trying not to laugh.

“They are total professionals,” I assure her. “Plus, legally, they have to be here.”

“Did you tell them if I fall to my death down there to at least cover me with a towel before our daughter has to identify my remains?”

“Yes, Iris spoke to them already in both English and Spanish,” I say. “They understand everything.” Then because I’m a stupid man who doesn’t know when to quit while he’s ahead, I add, “Besides, if you fall from here, there won’t be anything left of you to cover.”