EPILOGUE
Juliana
The following September, I stood in the cafeteria of the Elias Howe school, listening as Principal Witt strode along the stage at the front of the cafeteria, extolling the virtues of the new Vaughn Industries’ Healthy Directions School Lunch program.
Gone was the atrocious odor that used to hang in the air. Now, the only smells were mouthwatering ones; the kind of scents you’d smell while walking past a fine restaurant downtown. On today’s menu? Baked chicken, parmesan crusted asparagus that looked like French fries, a side of fruit salad, and a wheat-flour dinner roll with fresh cream butter. Everything had been crafted with healthy, locally sourced ingredients. After trimming the fat from the school lunch program budget, we found that all of the new menus could be delivered at the same price as the limp spinach and inedible pizza. I was confident about the nutrition of my meals, and that Vaughn could continue to provide them without sinking into bankruptcy.
The only thing I wasn’t so sure of? Whether the kids would like it. If they turned up their noses at these meals, then what would be the point?
It was a big day for me, and for all of Vaughn Industries. This had been the first project initiated by my division over a year ago, and I needed it to do well. I’d chosen the Elias Howe School as the test subject for the program, and after months of working through the details, testing day was finally here.
From here, we’d know whether Zach’s gamble in the new division was paying off.
I glanced over at him, my biggest supporter and cheerleader during all this, and my heart swelled. Not only that, I felt that familiar butterfly fluttering feeling I always got, low in my abdomen. He was absolutely scrumptious in his jeans, filling them out better than any non-exercising man should. Yes, I’d picked those and the Beasts t-shirt out for him, and he’d happily begun wearing them, agreeing that yes, sometimes, jeans were better. I also had gotten him to exercise a little over the months. Occasionally. Sparingly.
From below us on the cafeteria floor, he cocked a grin at me as he helped a kindergartener open his carton of skim milk. Watching him like that, being sweet to a child, my insides felt all warm and gooey. He’d make an excellent father someday.
I brought my fingers to my lips and discreetly blew him a kiss.
He grinned. “We’ve got this,” he mouthed.
Over the past year, there had been obstacles. Hobbes was one, but it turned out that Zach wasn’t that allergic. All I had to do was make sure he stayed well brushed, and he was fine. So, we’d moved in together, into his penthouse apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, since it was closest to both the Vaughn Industries headquarters and my office at Healthy Steps, where I was still working two days a week. Zach had picked up a few more trinkets, and there was a little more cat hair over his once sparse and clean apartment, but he didn’t mind.
And yes, we sparred now and again about whether to eat the healthy fruit or the Coco Crazies for dessert, but I always capitulated whenever he asked to lick it off me. That was an offer I simply couldn’t refuse. And if we went to a restaurant and ordered something sinful and bad, we always shared. Everything in moderation. When we compromised, things always worked out. Whenever we disagreed, we always found our way back.
One of the most exciting things we’d done was start a foundation for obesity awareness. And the seed money for the foundation? The seven thousand dollars that had never left that purse.
And now, over one year had passed. Leah was married. She’d met a man online and had a whirlwind romance. To my shock, they eloped in Italy. He was everything she wanted — rich, sweet, and totally devoted to her. Even Zach’s best friend Gavin was now in a serious relationship. After apologizing profusely for the way he’d treated me, he’d actually gone and fallen in love with his accountant. She pretty much ruled him, and his finances, now.
After giving her the cold shoulder for several months, I’d eventually gotten back in touch with my mother, who’d even been active in helping me design menus for the children in the school system. I’d officially met Zach’s parents as his “girlfriend,” and it turned out that Mrs. Vaughn wasn’t as scary as I thought. In fact, she was extremely wary when it came to new things, but eventually, she softened. Yes, she reminded me a lot of me. We’d actually had some very warm, nice conversations, and she was instrumental in helping me decorate my office in the Health and Prosperity Division. It now looked like it should be featured in House Beautiful.
“Without hesitation, I hereby declare this lunch line open,” Principal Witt said as the children began to applaud. I watched as the lunch ladies began to serve the food and children appeared with full trays, heading for their seats.
I crossed my fingers and headed down the steps to the cafeteria floor.
I knew the food looked better. That much was obvious. But kids were so finicky. What adults liked, sometimes kids didn’t. And part of me wondered if they would always choose a chicken nugget, just because it was a “safe choice,” and always turn their noses up at anything different.
I watched the kids, my breath coming quick and fast, trying to gauge popular opinion as they started to eat. Many of them were just joking, talking with friends, not concentrating on the food in front of them. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.
I passed Zach and said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering from nerves, “So what do you think? You think they like it?”
He laughed. “Let them get a few bites in.”
He sounded relaxed, but I could tell he was nervous too. Just a few more minutes, and we’d have the verdict as to whether a year’s worth of sweat and time and effort had been worth it.
He took my hand, twining his fingers with mine, and whispered, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
Right. We strolled together like two lovestruck kids in a park, just as we’d done in Central Park, our first, crazy “blind date” when fate had had a sense of humor and pushed us into each other’s paths. That excitement was something we still hadn’t lost, even after over a year. We were still as crazy about each other as ever. Maybe even more so.
As I looked into his eyes, all my worries faded away, and I wasn’t in the middle of a cafeteria anymore. It was just him and me, and nothing else mattered. He always had that calming effect on me.
“Yes, Justin?” a voice said. We both whirled to see Principal Witt striding toward a little boy, who had his hand raised above his head. Maybe he had to be excused to use the bathroom. “Do you have an opinion on the food?”
The little boy nodded and motioned the principal forward. As he whispered in her ear, I looked at Zach.
It was bad. It had to be bad. Why would he whisper if it wasn’t bad?
Suddenly, Principal Witt laughed a big, belly laugh and straightened. She laughed in a way that was so contagious, I found myself smiling even before she told me what the boy had said.
She met my eye. “He said he’s wondering if he can have seconds!” She ruffled his shaggy hair. “Of course. Yes, you can, dear.”
Then, as if on strings, at least a dozen more hands went up, all asking for seconds. It was a rampage.
I looked at Zach, and we both burst out laughing. He took my hand, squeezed it, kissed the knuckles, and said, “Well, Ms. Director. I knew I made the right choice when I hired you.”
After a celebratory hug and a short cab ride back to the office, Zach announced the good news to all fifty employees in the Health and Prosperity Division. They all cheered and hugged, and we brought out a giant cake to celebrate our success. Vegan, of course.
We went back to our respective offices to get some work done, but no sooner did I sit down at my desk when I got a text from him. Congrats, killer. Future generations in this city will owe their health to you.
I smiled and texted back. Couldn’t have done it without you.
A moment later. Yes, you could have. I fully believe you can do anything.
How could I think about work now? There were too many good things going on, and I just wanted to sit back and celebrate.
But there was really only one person I wanted to celebrate with. Dinner tonight? To celebrate?
His response… Of course. I’ll make the reservation.
I knew at once that we’d go to my favorite place, The Yellow Frog, which was right there in Midtown. It was perfect for us because I usually got their Caesar salad and mushroom ravioli, and Zach loved their aged Tomahawk steak. It was the one place where we could both get what we loved. Zach was definitely a meat and potatoes guy, but every so often I could coax him into eating greens, just as every once in a while, he got me eating dairy.
When I came down to the 24th floor at six, he was ready to go. He gazed at me as if he hadn’t seen me in days and kissed me, in front of everyone, in a way that made me dizzy.
“Ready?” I asked, lifting my bag onto my shoulder.
“Starving,” he said. “I can really do with some nuts and berries.”
I laughed. He always said that. Always. We walked to the restaurant and were seated in a booth in the corner, nice and romantic. When Zach suggested champagne to celebrate, I told him I wasn’t interested. Usually, he ordered the whole bottle, and we’d end up leaving more than a little tipsy. “I think I’ll just drink the water,” I said.
He ordered a pale ale, looking at me, concerned. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked when the waiter walked away.
“Of course. My division just kicked ass today. I’ve never been better.” I gave him a coy, mysterious little smile. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I have you.” He fished around in the bread basket and pulled out a roll. “You definitely kicked ass, love. I knew you could do it.”
We finished our meals, legs tangled together under the cozy little table, as I realized that right there, right at that moment, there was no place I’d rather be. We’d started out as a mistake, an accident. But there was no doubt that he was the love of my life. Leah was right. Fate might have had a sense of humor, but she knew a thing or two when it came to love.
“I do have a surprise for you,” I said as I finished off the last of my ravioli. “But it’s more fun to make you squirm.”
He smiled at me. “Hmm. I thought we agreed, no surprises?”
“We agreed to no surprises for me. You’re fair game.” I took a sip of water and gave him a coquettish bat of the eyelashes. “It keeps things interesting.”
He put his bare arms on the table, muscles straining under his Beasts t-shirt, and pretended to think. “Believe me, things are always interesting with you, surprises or not.”
It was true. Every once in a while, I’d unleash on some crusade, health-wise, that had him scratching his head. He, too, would sometimes come out with things that made me question what he was thinking. I mean, how could he possibly think that loaded baked potatoes were “health food” because potatoes were root vegetables? He was so delightfully clueless sometimes, it was more cute than it was infuriating. And as stuck in his ways as he may have been, he always tried to see my side of things.
Compromise. That was the name of this game.
He was still staring at me, waiting for me to tell him my secret, but I just gave him an innocent look, like I had no idea what he wanted. When our plates were cleared, the waiter handed us the dessert menu.
I pretended to browse it seriously, but I didn’t even have to look at it. “The Pina Colada mousse, please.”
We’d shared it so many times, it was easily the best dessert on the island of Manhattan. Pineapple, coconut, and caramel, it was so ridiculously decadent. Not vegan, but… compromise. We usually shared it so that I wouldn’t have to deal with too much of the guilt.
The waiter nodded. “Very good,” he said, taking the menu.
“And I’ll take a coffee,” Zach added. Then he leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head, and studied me. “You do look a little different.”
I blinked as if I had no idea what he was talking about. “Do I?”
“Yeah. Like, flushed. And you didn’t even have anything to drink.” My pale skin usually got all red whenever I drank anything alcoholic. “Is that the glow of winning?”
I nodded. “Totally.”
“Don’t get cocky. I’m expecting big things from your division in the future. Big things.”
“Me? Cocky?” I waved that thought away like it was ridiculous. “Never.”
“Good. Because on Monday, I expect you to tackle the nutritional content of your old nemesis.”
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. “You mean, the Heigh-di-Ho?”
He nodded. “We’re getting our packaged snack cakes into the schools, come hell or high water, and I want to make sure that they meet your high nutritional standards.”
When I was piling boxes of those things into my mouth every week, I’d never thought this would be my job. Back then, I never would have wanted to do it. A year ago, I never would have thought I could do it.
Now, not only did I think it was possible, I couldn’t wait. “Mission accepted, sir,” I said with a grin. “I will not fail you.”
“Good, because if you do…” He made like he was slitting his throat.
The Pina Colada mousse and Zach’s coffee came. The waiter dropped two spoons down beside the dessert, but as Zach was pouring sugar into his coffee cup, I grabbed both spoons and dragged the dish to me across the tablecloth. It was in an elegant dish, adorned with whipped cream and a lime coil, sprinkled with flakes of coconut. I licked my lips and prepared to dig in.
When he looked at me, surprised, I shrugged. “I’m surprised you didn’t want dessert.” Then I scooped my first sinful bite into my mouth.
“Actually,” he motioned toward the dish, “I did. Give it here.”
“Well, order another one.” I let out a moan and licked the spoon as if it was better than sex with him. It wasn’t. But it was damn good, anyway. “I’ve got to eat for two now.”
He was in the process of jabbing his spoon in my dessert when he froze, his eyes snapping to mine. “What? You mean…”
I nodded.
His mouth hung open for so long that my nerves began to sizzle under my skin. He didn’t look happy. He actually looked like he was going to throw up. I knew we hadn’t planned this, but I thought… hoped…
He grinned, and my breath left me in a rush.
Lifting his hand, he motioned to the waiter. “I’d say this is a cause for a two-dessert celebration.”
I smiled, relieved but still a little wary. “I never did think you were ever the one to skip out on dessert.”
“Right. Well, I’m eating for two also.” I could tell by the timber in his voice that he was stunned. He leaned forward. “A baby?”
I nodded. “Is that okay? I mean, I know we hadn’t planned this.” Tears burned my eyes. “But I want—”
He was on his feet in an instant, kneeling down in front of me, my face in his hands. “I’m surprised, yes. But…” His hands slipped down to my belly. Only a month along, it was still flat. “I’m going to be a father. We’re going to have a baby.” His eyes filled with tears, and seeing this big, strong man so vulnerable triggered tears for me as well. “I love you, Juliana, and I’ll love our baby. And I’ll love any other babies we’ll have after this.”
A sob escaped my lips, and our mouths crashed together.
“I love you too,” I said, when our lips came apart. “So much. I never thought I could be so happy.”
He held my face again. “Marry me. Let’s do this right. Make it official. You and me. Together in every sense of the word.” When I stared at him, stunned, he went on. “I know this is a shit proposal, but I’d been planning something better for months. I already have a ring back at the apartment, but I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to ask.” He kissed me. “I can’t imagine the timing being any more perfect than this.”
I smiled through the tears, happy beyond all measure. From blind date to… this.
“Yes. I want to be your wife. I want to have your baby. I want us to be a family, forever and ever.” A thought hit me. “But…”
He looked alarmed. “But what?”
I laughed and pulled the ultrasound picture I’d gotten this morning when I went to my doctor from my purse.
He stared at it, turned it upside down, squinting, trying to figure it out.
I pointed at a small little shrimp. “That’s our baby.”
He smiled. “It looks like an alien.”
I laughed and pointed at the other alien. “And that’s our other baby.”
The ultrasound picture slid from his fingers and all color drained from his face. “Twins?”
I nodded. “Twins. Think we can manage it?”
He groaned and pressed his forehead to mine, a little chuckle leaving his lips. “I guess, just like we’ve done everything, we’ll just have to figure it out.”
I kissed him. Yes. We’d figure it out.
THE END
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