Epilogue
The autumn brew had been a “piece of cake,” according to Boyd. He’d gone with vanilla and praline, flavors that “remind me of my fiancée,” he told her right before she’d had a taste. They named it Golden Lace. The man was more romantic than he knew. Ella stepped onto the back porch of Boyd and Mason’s home, soon to become their home, to watch the sun set orange and pink over the river. She had cleared the dishes and the two of them were loading the dishwasher, so she stepped out into the cold December dusk. Pulling her sweater closed, she questioned if it was possible to be too happy, to have too much love. She’d spent a good portion of her life needing approval and pushing away when her ego or her heart were left wanting.
Home, she thought, looking back at the glow of light from the kitchen window. This was what it felt like to be home. It wasn’t perfect; perfect was stifling. This was real joy sprinkled with bits of angst and frustration to keep things balanced.
She remembered Boyd’s words—that everything needed good and bad. She knew there would be challenges in their life together. In three months, she was marrying a man with a teenager, whose mostly absent mother recently adopted a baby with her new husband. Ella’s parents were not invited to the wedding, nor was her sister. They were joy suckers and she wasn’t having that on the day she was set to stand in front of her chosen family and swear to love, laugh, and protect her favorite person. She would walk herself down the aisle, give the woman she’d worked so hard to become away to a man she knew would cherish her work. Her family would still be in their future and the drama would, of course, continue, but not on that day.
There were plenty of trials ahead, but in that moment, as the black of night took over the sky, Ella smelled popcorn. She heard Mason arguing with Boyd over which movie they were watching—all seemed right with her world. Christmas was less than a week away and she’d never felt more connected.
“Help.” Mason slid open the back door. “Dad wants to watch some documentary on… What was it again?” he called over his shoulder into the house.
“Sea wolves in British Columbia. Your famous uncle said it’s awesome.” Boyd was still out of sight, but his voice came through loud, deep, and clear. She loved that voice.
Mason turned to her, wide-eyed. “Help,” he mouthed without a sound. She laughed and turned to go into the house.
“Why are you out here?” he asked. “It’s cold.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, but cold as—”
“Do not say the next word,” Boyd said, appearing in the doorway and putting his arm around his son.
“I was going to say cold as… icicles or snowmen or… tiny little sea wolves.”
“Smart-ass.”
“You see it’s that kind of bad language that led to my downfall.”
“Oh really?” Boyd rolled his eyes.
Mason nodded. “No, not really. I’m a saint compared to half my high school. Balls is the least of your worries.”
Ella, still laughing, walked between them into the warmth of the house. She was used to what she now called microbursts between father and son. In the beginning of her relationship with Boyd, she worried that messing with their life might change things. There was nothing to worry about—the Boyd and Mason Show went on despite any female distraction. She sat on the couch and put the popcorn bowl in her lap. Boyd sat next to her, kissed her until Mason cleared his throat, and took a handful of popcorn. Mason sat on the other side of Ella, suddenly serious.
“When do you guys think you’ll have kids?” he asked, staring into his lap.
Boyd glanced at Ella. They had already discussed what their family would look like going forward. Boyd shrugged, indicating now was as good a time as any to share their news with Mason.
“We have kids,” Ella said. “Well, a kid.”
Mason looked up at her as if she’d spouted some complicated prophecy.
“You’re not… I mean, don’t most married people want to…”
The idea that Mason would ever think they needed more than him broke Ella’s heart. She let Boyd take it from there.
“Are you kidding? Now that you’re the next big thing on the high school field hockey scene, there will be practices, and I can’t even begin to think about driving.”
Ella raised her hand. “I volunteer.”
“Good news. It’s probably a good idea to have a doctor in the car because I’ve seen what this kid is like on his bicycle.”
They all laughed, munched popcorn, and joked a little more until Boyd’s eyes welled.
He reached behind Ella to rest his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You are all we need, Mase. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Me too,” Ella said, her eyes glassy.
Mason beamed, looking back and forth between them. When the love became too much, he broke eye contact and propped his feet on the coffee table.
“So, I guess it’s the three of us,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“Guess so,” Ella said.
“That’s good because three is a perfect number for voting. All in favor of the wolves?”
Boyd raised his hand. Ella could feel him pleading for her vote, but she kept her eyes on the popcorn bowl and tried to control her laughter.
“All in favor of Fantastic Beasts?” Mason said.
Ella slowly raised her hand and winked in jest when she met Boyd’s eyes as Mason cheered and grabbed the remote.
“I love you,” Mason said, not for the first time, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. Ella hugged him and couldn’t seem to let go. Hugging meant more than bad memories to her now, and she wanted Mason to know how much she’d learned.
“Okay, okay.” Mason squirmed and she released him.
“Who’s the master Jedi, now?” she asked.
“You are.” Mason laughed. “I’ve created a monster.”
Ella grew serious. “I love you too, Mase.”
Mason’s smile reached right into her heart. He nodded and turned his focus back to the movie.
Boyd, who was still mocking shock at his movie defeat, cleared his throat. “So much for the den of dudes.”
“So much for it.” Ella took his face and kissed him until the opening movie music started and Mason began tossing popcorn at them.
Life was good. The weekend was almost over and she had to be at the hospital by eight the next morning, but that was fine too. She had the mug Bri gave her for her birthday with black script lettering that Ella now knew was the truth: Mondays suck.