Page 103 of You're So Vine
“Quite the morning, huh?” she says.
There are dark circles under her eyes, and I’m worried she’s overdone it.
“We could skip lunch,” I suggest. “Take a bus back to Verity?”
“No, I’d like to hang with the weirdos,” she smiles. “It was just … a lot. I feel wrung out.”
“I don’t know whether to feel good or bad,” I confess. “This is only happening because Debra is dying.”
Ava hugs me. “Both,” she says. “Because life is beautiful and strange and complicated.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Want to share a house in the country?”
She lifts her face to mine, and all the tiredness is gone. She’s radiant. “Can I have a horse?”
“Sounds like there’s room for more than one.”
“I could train them to work at the therapy riding center.” Her blue eyes are sparkling. “Make sure they’re gentle enough for the kids.”
“Long as I only have to hold reins and not ride,” I say, “you can train them to do synchronized swimming.”
Wrapped up in each other, we walk outside, where we find everyone waiting, Nate tapping his foot impatiently.
“Hold your horses, bro,” Ava says to him. And just for me, adds, “I certainly can’t wait to see the love of my life holding mine.”
Epilogue
AVA
Debra left a couple more instructions in her will, which her lawyer confirmed after she passed away. We are not to hold a funeral. There’s a sum of money allocated and we’re to throw a party, a celebratory send-off. Any funds left over are to go to a charity of our choice.
The universe kindly arranges to make the best date for the party on Thanksgiving. We decide to hold a midday feast in the barn at Flora Valley Wines and invite everyone who came to Shelby and Nate’s wedding, plus their families. Therese from the Therapeutic Riding Society is also invited. The Society is the unanimous winner of our chosen charity, and we make sure to set aside a decent sum for them. Danny, Izzy, and Max will come home and stay with Mom and Dad. Tyler and Frankie will also fly back in, and along with Jackson will bunk up with Shelby and Nate in the Armstrong family home. Debra’s parents have stayed on with Lee.
An invitation also goes out to Lee’s mom—Debra’s birth mother—but she declines, saying it doesn’t seem right. Debra’s parents shouldn’t feel they have to share their daughter with a stranger. Lee tells us that though her mom might regret not coming, it’s her decision. Grief and guilt are a potent mix, and her mom has to process them in her own time. Cam and I volunteer to sort out Debra’s house and her possessions, as per her instructions, of course. We promise to make up a box for Lee’s mom, so she’ll have some sense of who her daughter had grown up to be.
The weekend before Thanksgiving, Cam and I drive to Debra’s house. The transfer of ownership to the Armstrong siblings is almost complete. As soon as it’s official, Cam and I can move in. Clearing out Debra’s things feels like such an insignificant gesture when our appreciation for what she’s done for us is so immense. But it isn’t nothing, and we can do it well, making sure everything ends up where it’s supposed to.
This is the first time we’ve seen the property, and I have to admit, my heart is in my mouth. Debra bought it in a hurry, so it could be a total dump. Then again, I’ll be living with the perfect guy to un-dump it.
“This is it,” I tell Cam. “If Google maps isn’t lying.”
We turn off a rural road about four miles out of Verity. The driveway is gravel but neatly kept with no potholes. On either side, there’s long meadow grass and trees, almost like it’s wild but you can see the design in the way the trees are located. As it’s leafless November and I’m no gardener, I can’t tell what they are. Guess I’ll find out come spring.
“Mostly fruit trees,” says Cam. “Plum and apricot. Think I spotted peach, too.”
Or I’ll find out right now.
“We grew them on the farm,” Cam explains.
I’m about to tell him I have zero experience with growing anything except mold on protein bars that I’ve left in a pocket and forgotten about. But then we round a bend and—
“I’ve come home to Tara,” I say. “If Tara is a super cute bungalow with a sun porch.”
The house is adorable! Freshly painted, cobalt blue with white trim. Terracotta tile steps leading up to the porch and the front door. It’s surrounded by all kinds of trees and plants I have no clue about. And one of those wooden structures you grow stuff up and over. Loggia? Pergola? Something like that.
Cam switches off the ignition and sets the brake. We’ve brought the Flora Valley Wines Dodge because it’s big enough to carry a whole house. Yesterday, Nate casually mentioned that he’s thinking of getting a new pick-up for the winery. Shelby would never let him sell her dad’s truck, so if we wanted to look after it…?
It can pull a horse float, so I said yes before Cam could say no.
