Page 117 of Wildfire
“Tell me a secret, Callaghan.” He brushes my hair out of my face, staring at me like I’m the only thing he sees in this world.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m falling in love with you, Aurora.”
Ten million butterflies. “I’m falling in love with you, too.”
EpilogueRUSS
Nine-ish Years Later
“ITHINKI’M GOING TObe 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 Ending 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 herperfume. 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 Ending 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 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 she’s a dog or a cat, but definitely believes she’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 Gamblers 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 a 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…”
