Bonus Epilogue for Love Not at First Sight
A little while later…
Sam
At least one Saturday a month, Veronica and I make the trip down to the city and have breakfast with my parents and Evie. We’re on the Upper East Side, near where I grew up, at my parents’ favorite diner. It’s close to the East River, has tables on the sidewalk, chipped ceramic coffee mugs with diesel strength drip coffee, and the best omelets in the neighborhood. We’ve been coming here since I was three. I never imagined I’d be coming here with my wife.
The five of us are at a sidewalk table. Coffee, water, salt and pepper, a napkin dispenser, and ketchup and hot sauce clutter up the metal table. I shift in my seat and press my leg against Veronica’s. She’s looking over her menu (even though we both know she’ll order the ham and cheese omelet) and doesn’t glance at me, but she smiles, and then slowly works her foot up my calf.
All thoughts of breakfast leave my mind. I grin at her. She flushes, and my smile takes on a satisfied edge, because my camo shorts, tank top wearing, survivalist wife is playing footsie under the breakfast table like a middle-schooler with her first crush.
My mom’s talking excitedly about something and Evie’s clapping her hands, but I have no idea what they’re saying because Veronica just reached over and put her hand on my thigh. My mind goes completely blank. We’ve left middle-school territory.
I blink at Veronica, and finally she turns to me and smiles.
The breath whooshes out of me. Sure, I love coming down to visit my family, but maybe today we can leave early. Maybe we don’t even need to stay for breakfast. In fact, we could get in the car and head home. On second thought, there’s a nice hotel just down the block.
Veronica squeezes my thigh, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m about to manufacture a flimsy excuse when Evie reaches across the table and snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Sam. Mom and dad just said they’re going back to South Africa to finish their trip. Mom asked if all of us want to join them there for a week or two?”
Veronica’s foot stills on my leg and she pulls her hand away. I frown at her.
“We’re definitely coming,” Veronica says. She turns to me, “they have some of the best climbing in the world in the Cape Town area.”
So far in our marriage we’ve climbed The Gunks, New River Gorge, Moab, and Red Rock. Each time we climb, we take a tent, two sleeping bags that zip together into one big bed and…I like climbing.
“What she said,” I nod in complete agreement.
“You’re such a dork,” Evie says fondly.
“Good!” My dad says. He claps me on the arm. “Good.”
My mom beams. “That’s wonderful! We can get a big house near the wineries and all stay together. Veronica, maybe you can find some new wines for that little wine bar you showed me in Romeo?”
Veronica and my mom start a conversation about wine tours and climbing, but I’m distracted by a man barely ten feet away snapping pictures.
“I see him,” Evie mutters.
Then she calmly stands and saunters toward the journalist. Over the last many months most of the media interest in my life has waned. But every once in a while something like this happens. Usually I use the press to push my latest think tank project, but when Evie’s around, she likes to handle it. Because she’s a meddler.
Veronica and my mom stop talking when Evie gets up. Veronica frowns after Evie, unsure why she left the table. Then she sees the photographer.
“Hi, I’m Evie,” my sister says brightly.
“Uhh,” the guy is about forty, in a leather jacket, and doesn’t seem to know what to make of Evie approaching him.
“I’m a psychologist,” she says. She links her arm with the man’s and starts to lead him down the block. Unsurprisingly, he goes willingly. “I noticed you’re separating yourself from life with the lens of a camera. It’s easy to dissociate yourself from pain by looking through a camera lens. Tell me about your mother-”
I don’t catch anymore because Evie has dragged the man down the block. Veronica snorts and then starts to laugh. “Did I ever tell you,” she asks, “that your sister has firmly entrenched herself as one of my favorite people in the world?”
I lean into Veronica, feel her warmth. “Am I on that list?”
“You top that list,” she whispers.
“Well,” my mom says, “who’s ready to order?”
***
Hours later, we’re back home. The house is fully renovated and exactly like Veronica and I imagined in the cave. A three-story climbing wall, fireplaces in the living room, kitchen, master bedroom and the master bathroom, the kitchen is fitted out with an industrial espresso maker, lots of windows look out over the woods, and we have two home offices so we can take work-from-home days and then meet up in the living room or bedroom or on the stairs for a quick…break.
We’re in our bed, our backs propped against a pile of pillows. The fireplace is crackling, I’m reading an Asimov book and Veronica flips through a South Africa travel book she picked up at the bookstore on our way home through downtown Romeo.
A strand of hair slips out of her high ponytail. I reach over and tuck it behind her ear. She looks up from her book and smiles. Every time she smiles, it’s like a beam of light hits me and I’m momentarily blinded. She goes back to reading her book, but I keep watching her. I never imagined life could be like this. We have adventures: climbing, hiking, traveling. We both work hard, I have my business, she’s set on conquering the greeting card industry. But we also have moments like this. Quiet moments where there isn’t anywhere to be but with each other. I get to be myself, reading sci fi or working on the laptop, and she gets to be herself, reading travel books and climbing books, and planning our next adventure.
I suddenly have a picture of the rest of our lives, it’s full of quiet moments and adventurous moments, exciting moments and peaceful moments. I close my book and set it down on the bed next to me.
Veronica looks up, then smiles at me. “Did I tell you Miss Erma told Jessie her soul mate?”
“Hmmm,” I reach over and take the travel book from Veronica. I set it aside.
“Isn’t that interesting?” she asks, but she’s still smiling at me, because she knows-
“I’m more interested in what we’re about to do in…” I look down at my watch, “eleven point seven seconds.”
I flip her onto her back and settle over her.
Her smile turns into a grin, “Good point. I’m more interested in that too.”
“That’s what I thought.”
***
Veronica
I curl into Sam’s side and trace my finger over his jaw. He turns and kisses the palm of my hand. A well of love overflows in my heart. I really, really, really love this man.
I never knew I could love someone as much as I love him.
The best day of my life was when I stopped running away from and started running to.
I settle my head into the crook of his arm and listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. My bare skin is warm against his, and I’m wrung out, but happy from our lovemaking. “Sam?”
He shifts beneath me and kisses my temple, “Yeah?” His fingers trail over my arm, drifting lazily over my skin.
“Thank you,” I say.
He pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me. “For what?”
I think about it for a second, and try to boil down into words what I’m feeling, then I shrug and say it the only way I can. “For going on this walk with me.”
I feel him smiling. I can’t see his face, but I’ve always been able to read him without having to see him. It’s the same for him with me.
“I love you,” he says. But the words get buried in our mouths meeting, and my “I love you” gets swallowed by our kiss. So instead of words, we show each other our love, just like we’ve always done, with our bodies and our hearts.
THE END
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