Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
EPILOGUE
Nina
Everyone looks beautiful. It’s not the suits or the fancy dresses, the expensive haircuts and updos, or the pearls that were busted out and dusted off. It’s happiness.
There’s so much radiant happiness filling up the farmyard, and joy is literally spilling out in every smile I see. Everyone is so happy that we’re finally here. For our grandmothers, this is a historical moment. For our parents, it’s a proud one. And for all of us, it’s a night to celebrate our love. The shock and bewilderment and irony and amusement have long since worn off.
My face hurts from smiling, my eyes sting from crying, and my heart hurts from how full to bursting it is.
I’m off to the side of the farmyard, by the big maple, taking a breather as the band plays a mix of bluegrass and country music into the starry, lantern-lit night. We strung the whole farmyard with lights a few weeks ago. Thaddius’ mom and dad and his grandma and grandpa helped out. The lights hang across the yard, spanning from the barn to the tree, the tree to the house, and in every other direction.
I crack another smile that makes my cheeks ache when I see Thaddius sauntering over. He had stripped off his suit jacket hours ago. Everyone laughed when he walked out wearing plaid under it instead of a regular dress shirt. I absolutely love it as it compliments my simple lace dress and white cowboy boots. These ones are new, and so far, they haven’t managed to get squishy.
Thaddius takes my hand and sweeps me into his arms. He kisses me and starts to rock and sway with the music, dancing a special slow dance under the rustling maple leaves. “I half expected that you’d cut the clown face out of that shirt and pin it to the back of your dress.”
“Don’t make me laugh! I’ve already smiled and laughed too much today, and it hurts. My whole face feels crusty from crying too.”
“So I shouldn’t tell you about the llama and sheep poetry I’ve started writing?”
“Were you inspired by the way Herman Merman serenades Lottie Donkey all night and day, singing the song of his people?”
A sudden loud heeeee-hawwwww sounds from the field to our left, and we both give in to full belly laughs, even if it hurts. I can feel the tears glistening at the corners of my eyes. But this time, it’s from laughter. “It sounded like he was cursing us out. Telling us to mind our own business.”
“Herman Merman is a gentleman ever since we got Lottie Donkey. He doesn’t curse anymore.”
I place the pad of my thumb on Thaddius’ bottom lip. Behind us, shadowy figures sway and dance, hoot and holler. I can even see Thaddius’ grandma shaking her hips on the patch of dirt that serves as a dancefloor. She’s really getting into it. Looking back into Thaddius’ face, I find his eyes warm with love. “I heard somewhere that the psyche has an incredible power of suggestion. Or it responds to suggestions. Something like that. I think it was basically about self-fulfilling prophesies. Do you think we fell in love because it was suggested to us all along that we do that?”
“I don’t believe in destiny, but if I did, I’d say we made our own.” He’s not smiling, but he’s using his smiling voice. Over the past few years, I’ve learned to pick it out, just like I’ve learned so many other things about this man who owns my heart.
It makes the backs of my eyes prickle again, but even through the moisture, I can see the way Thaddius’ eyes go buttery soft, the amber lights reflecting the stars when he looks at me. “I thought my purpose in life was to avoid all this, but that was just my pride talking. Grandma would call it talking out of my ass.”
There go the tears again, sliding down cheeks that are already crusty from all the salt I’ve cried today. Joy cries. People don’t call this the happiest day of their life for nothing.
“I didn’t realize how much of my life was me letting my parents protect me and decide everything for me,” I admit. “Leaving home was the first thing I’d ever fully done on my own.” That wild flight across the country brought me to this farm.
And two years later, it brought me right here. Literally, two years because, of course, we picked the day I showed up as our wedding day.
“No one should be a bystander in their own life, but that’s what I was doing too.” He caresses my cheek, wiping away the tears. “You brought the sunshine and happiness, love.”
“And the clown shirts,” I add.
“And the llama.”
“Technically, I just saw her at that rescue. You went and got her.”
“You write the best books about this place,” Thaddius says adoringly.