Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
“They kicked you out, didn’t they?”
“No!” Then he laughs. “I promise they did not. But we are moving. If a little controversy is enough to spook those jerks and upend our life, well, then they’re no friends of ours. And that’s exactly what I told them. They can stick that nine-hole golf course where the sun don’t shine. I said to them, ‘Do you even know who my son is? He’s one half of SS!’ That’s what I said to them. ‘One half of SS!’”
It should, maybe, feel a little superficial that he’s bragging about me now. I mean, I’ve kind of been one-half of SS this whole time—even out in the open.
But it doesn’t feel superficial all.
In fact, I love that he didn’t say I was SS.
Because I’m not SS.
SS has never been me, it’s always been us.
And as I watch Essie and Mike laughing and talking to Luke and Britney, I’m suddenly very much OK with this ending. I’m OK if it’s over. It’s going to be weird, of course. But endings have always been my favorite thing about stories in the first place. They are a conclusion and a fresh start in the same breath.
“Steve? You still there?”
“Yeah. Just… thinking. But thank you, Dad. I wish you didn’t have to move though.”
“Are you kidding?” Then he lowers his voice. “I couldn’t talk your mom out of it if I tried. And I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? I mean that girl of yours. Cynthia.” I can almost see his eyebrow waggling from five hundred miles away.
“That’s her pen name, Dad. Her real name is—”
“Cordelia, I know. Your mother is beyond excited about this young woman. She said she had a dream last night that the two of you sailed into the sunset. She said her grandbabies are now locked in. Locked in, that’s what she said. And she needs to be close when this happens. We’ve already put our share of the co-op up for sale. We’re gonna be house-hunting, son. But for the meantime, we’re gonna move into one of Essie and Mike’s trailers. So when those babies come, we’ll be ready to take them off your hands any time you want.”
“Them?”
“Well, twins run in the family.”
“Oh, OK.” I just laugh and shake my head.
I didn’t even bother explaining how there was no way my mother was getting those babies from me before they come from Essie. Or that I’m pretty sure twins runs in the woman’s side of the family. So if anyone’s having doubles, it’s her.
Mom has her dreams, and who am I to kill her dream?
It’s a nice time. A really nice time. We grill, and swim—well, not Cordelia. She and I sit on the edge and dip our feet in. And when the sun starts to set Terry hands me the key to his boat and says, “Why don’t you take her for a spin?” I get a weird feeling in my stomach.
Because he’s telling me to take Cordy out on the lake and make romance-novel gold and he didn’t even know about my mom’s dream.
But ya know what?
Sailing off into the sunset sounds like a pretty good idea to me.
Cordy and I slowly motor out to the middle of the lake. It’s not a huge lake, but it’s not a huge boat, either. So it’s all quite perfect, actually. I kill the engine and we sit on the bench seat in the back, close together. Close enough for me to put my arm around her.
We float and watch the sun drop down over the rooftops of Westlake Village. Someone is playing music on a nearby dock—'Unchained Melody,’ cliché as far as romance novels go, but hey, this is real life. It is what it is.
She leans her head on my shoulder as the light becomes dim and the sounds of families and cliché love songs echo off the lake.
And it occurs to me in this moment that I think I have finally grasped the meaning of happily ever after.
Cordelia, of course, is my literal definition.
But it’s more than that.
The nerves when you meet someone new are fun. That jittery feeling of butterflies in the stomach makes things exciting. And I know that there are probably a lot of women out there—and men too—who crave that ‘new’ feeling. The nerves. The excitement. The unknown. The possibilities.
But the known—when you’re with someone who gets you, who has your back, who wants to take this crazy fucking journey by your side—well, that beats new and exciting every single time as far as I’m concerned.
The partnership is the real HEA.
I look down at Cordelia and stare at her. She must feel my gaze because she tips her head up at me, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“Hi.”
“Hi.” She laughs.
“Would you like to do pedestrian, everyday, mundane things with me?”