Epilogue
Two weeks later
“Apparently you lost a toe to frostbite.” Tyler peered at the screen of his laptop. “But you still managed to carry your buddy down the mountain when he was struck with altitude sickness.”
“This one says you saved another climber who’d lost his way in a sudden blizzard,” Carson remarked, scrolling on his phone. “You unfastened your safety line to reach him.”
Julia met Warren’s gaze from across the room, both of them amused by the enhancement of his legendary status. Social media had been awash in rumors of his alleged heroism since his return to Indigo Bay—the former president of the Sugar Rush Candy Company tackles the Matterhorn and wins.
But though Julia was aware that tragedies often took place on mountain climbs, there had been no frostbite or rescues this time. Warren and his friends had started the relentless climb in the dark of dawn, picking their way up the rocky, path-less route. They’d balanced on precarious ledges to put on their spiked crampons, then ascended to the icy, almost vertical slopes leading to the summit.
They’d battled frigid wind, blinding snow, thousand-meter drop-offs. They’d roped themselves together and picked each other up when they fell. They’d climbed the last hundred yards to the highest point, where the edge of a cliff dropped off to Switzerland on one side and Italy on the other. Surrounded by majestic snowy peaks, they’d stood in awe on the summit, toasted Theo with protein bars, and began the precarious descent.
And when they’d entered the lodge, exhausted and battle-weary, Julia had been waiting for Warren. He’d been aching, wind-burned, freezing, and exhilarated. The light in his eyes would never die. They’d returned home a day later, ready to start the new year together.
Warren had fortunately not been plagued by vertigo during the climb, but upon their return another ENT specialist had concluded that the attacks were the symptom of an inner ear disorder that could be managed with treatments. Since he didn’t plan to climb another mountain of the Matterhorn’s magnitude, Warren had taken the news in stride—another life change like so many that had preceded it and the many that would follow.
“Man, this was the best idea ever.” Tyler bit into a hot cinnamon roll, his gaze on the televised football game. “We should totally celebrate Christmas on January fifth every year.”
Carson scoffed.
“What?” Tyler asked. “The lead-in is so much easier, right? No traffic, no crowded stores, no trouble finding groceries, no pressure. It’s all good, man.”
Julia smiled when Warren winked at her. It was all good. The Christmas tree, still fresh thanks to their late trimming, sparkled near the fireplace, and all of Julia’s decorations were in place. Spencer and Adam were throwing a football in the backyard, the smell of baking ham drifted from the kitchen, and a stack of board games sat on the kitchen counter, awaiting post-dinner challenges.
It was more than all good, Julia thought. It was all perfect.
“Julia, what time is your show tomorrow night?” Carson was still on his phone. “Are we getting dinner beforehand?”
“It starts at eight, so yes, there’s plenty of time.” Julia was singing with the Jingle Belles the following night at the Indigo Bay Theater—to her surprised pleasure, her friends had asked her to join them for several upcoming performances.
“What about this?” Hailey turned a sketchpad toward her. “I don’t think it should be too cutesy, but bees like buttercups and they can be rendered well for a logo.”
Julia studied the sketch—a simple yet realistic illustration of a bee hovering over an open buttercup, laced with the words Queen Bee in a cursive font.
“I love it,” Julia said. “It’s very elegant.”
“It might need to be even simpler.” Hailey chewed on the end of her pencil with a frown. “Maybe a pollen-bearing sunflower would work better. I’ll give you a few more options.”
She turned back to her drawing. Julia patted her niece’s knee and rose to head into the kitchen. She checked the ham, ensured that Tyler hadn’t already dug into the apple pie and chocolate cake, and set various platters on the central island.
Two strong male arms came around her from behind. Julia relaxed back against Warren’s chest, her heart and soul filling with warmth.
“I love you,” she said.
“Excuse me? I didn’t quite catch that.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “I love you. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Countless.” He turned her in his arms, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. “Because I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
He lowered his head at the same instant that she rose on her tiptoes. Their lips met in a kiss that contained a thousand promises and hopes. Whatever regrets or guilt they’d both carried had floated away like balloons, leaving only the knowledge that they had to make the most of the time they had together. Because at the end of the day, what was more of a gift than love and family?
“Hey, I had another idea for the list.” Warren lifted his head, detaching himself from her to take a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I wrote it down.”
He handed the paper to her. Julia unfolded it and scanned the items labelled #1 to #38. For #38, Warren had written: Get married.
Her heart stuttered. She lifted her gaze to his. “Really?”
“Really.” He slid his arms around her waist, pulling their lower bodies together. “Be mine in every way there is. Let’s have adventures, live on the edge, do things we’ve never done before. Let’s do it all together. Marry me, Julia.”
“Of course I’ll marry you.” She put her hand against his cheek, feeling as if she could burst into song. “But let’s wait a little bit, okay? Maybe after we’ve crossed a few more things off our list.”
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. We have all the time in the world.”
Their lips met again in a kiss that felt like a homecoming. Julia had never before been so excited for the future, for all the years to come in which she and Warren could live, love, and check the action items off their new list:
Things To Do Before We Turn Eighty
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