Page 124 of Grease Monkey
“Boys, are you done yet?” Mrs. Grant asks, unmuting herself as she and her husband fill the screen. “Teddy’s got some news.”
“Did his sorry ass get dumped again?” Bowie asks.
“Yeah, did Morgana finally realize she’s better off without you?” Wyatt tacks on.
“Oh, fuck you,” Teddy says, giving the screen the middle finger.
“See, I told you they don’t like me,” I mutter, glancing at the ring on my finger.
“Nonsense, sweetheart,” Mr. Grant says, leaning extra close to the laptop like he needs to be nearer to be heard over his sons’ bickering. “That’s how they show they care about the people they love. Shooting the shit and being giant assholes about it.”
I smile weakly.
“Yeah, Morgana, we like you. There’s nothing to worry about,” Wyatt says into the camera.
“Yeah, Morgana, if anything, I’m glad you broke my brother’s heart. He was becoming too big headed for his own good.” Bowie winks.
“Fuck. You. Asshole,” Teddy grates.
“Okay, okay, enough,” Mrs. Grant says, clapping her hands, and everyone falls silent. “Now, honey, what did you have to tell us?”
Teddy glances at me, and then lifts my hand to the screen. Sadie screams, the boys yell, and I cover my face as it turns beetroot.
“This is great news,” Sadie says.
“Oh shit, she’s stuck with your sorry ass now, Tee.” Bowie laughs.
“About time one of my boys settles down,” Miles says.
“Welcome to the family, Morgana.” Wyatt smiles warmly.
Teddy leans forward and kisses me softly.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
“I love you too, Ana Banana.”
Epilogue
Teddy
1 year later
Pulling up to the top of the long driveway, I shut off the rental car’s engine and lace Ana’s hand in mine. She tears her gaze from the window and smiles weakly before turning back to stare at the big white house across the lawn.
“I can’t believe coming back here makes me feel like a stranger.” She sighs, touching her fingertips to the glass. “They’re my family, and I can’t even knock on the door to tell them I’m here.”
I bring my hand to her lips and brush a kiss to the back of it.
“Your other family is right inside there, excited to see you. Don’t worry about them, baby.”
She nods, unbuckling her seat belt and stepping out of the car. We’ve barely reached the bottom stair to the porch when Mom flings the door open and screams, “Miles, they’re here! Our babies are home.”
Ana laughs as she gets pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and my dad clatters down the stairs, tackling me to the ground.
“The prodigal son has returned!” he booms in my ear, knocking my hat off my head and digging his knuckles into my scalp.
“Get off, old man.” I laugh, wrestling with him on the grass as Mom examines the engagement and wedding band on Ana’s left finger.
