Page 140 of Lovebug
Epilogue
A Year and Several Months Later
I hear the crunch and crackle of ice under our boots as we trudge into a copse of evergreens. He makes big deep footprints in the snow ahead of me and, my smaller feet follow and slip inside the path he’s made.
It’s cold, and I can’t help my shiver despite how bundled up I am in a warm coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.
“Almost there?” I chirp behind him, a little out of breath.
“Yeah. Almost there,” he grunts.
He’s been acting strange ever since we exited his truck and started the walk out here. Quiet. Grunty. Nervous maybe? An awful lot like “The Wall” I met last year, not Wally, the man I’m head over heels in love with now. I catch a glint of orange light from the setting sun. It bounces off the silver ax swinging by his side. And suddenly I feel nervous too.
There are no other humans as far as the eye can see.
Ohmygod.
“Mabel,” he says as he turns and looks me dead in the eyes. My breath hitches. The cold wind whistles past me, suddenly sounding like a freight train in my ears.
And that’s the moment he murders me.
Kidding! Wouldn’t that be something?
No. That is the moment he kisses me on the nose, and says, “I love you. And I’m so glad we’re doing this.”
Bythis, he means chopping down a tree to decorate for our first Christmas living together in our new home.
After everything went down with my parents last year, I thought it was best that I finally move out. On my own. Yes, it was incredibly tempting to dive right into living with Wally, but it felt important that I experience solo-living for a while, so I finally got myself one of those small one-bedrooms “right outside of the city.” And once summer season at the arboretum was over, I accepted a full-time position at the museum. So between that and setting up an online shop for The Bee’s Elbow, my finances are happily back on track. Apparently my parents’ finances are too. Dad went back to work about six months ago, and thankfully there have been no more heart “incidents.” I can’t help but wonder if that was due to all he was hiding and holding onto. That secret must have been an incredibly heavy weight to carry all those years. As for my relationship with my parents? We’re taking things slow. I go home for a monthly dinner with the two of them – Wally even joins us sometimes – and it’s great to see that my dad really does seem happier and more at ease. Maybe there’s hope for us yet. Baby steps.
A year into my solo-living adventures, Wally asked me to move in with him again. This time, I said yes faster than an Australian tiger beetle scuttles across the Outback. He’s put in a ton of work over the past few months to make his tiny home just a little less tiny, expanding it so it’s perfect for two. Now I get to live surrounded by nature every single day.
Surrounded by him.
I’m excited. I’ve never cut down a Christmas tree before. My whole life living with my parents, we had artificial ones, but not this year.
This year is all about what’s real.
“I love you too,” I say, tipping up on my nearly frozen toes so I can kiss him back. “I am kind of surprised you’re into this idea, though.”
He scoffs, “What do you mean? I love Christmas!”
“I mean the cutting-down-a-tree aspect. I know how much The Giving Tree upsets you.”
“Nah, That’s totally different. We’re engaged in a time-honored tradition to celebrate the winter solstice and the cyclical nature of life. The Celts did it. The ancient Egyptians did it. The royals in Victorian England did it. However, that Giving Tree punk? He is a total asswipe, a self-centered user who cuts down trees just because hecan. He wouldn’t know a time-honored tradition if it leaped up and bit him in the—”
“Alright,” I soothe and cup my gloved hands around his bearded cheeks. “Let’s not get you all riled up. Also… really? The ancient Egyptians decorated evergreen trees in their homes?”
“No. But they did bust out some green palms to honor the gods. Same difference.”
He takes my hand in his and keeps trudging ahead through the snow.
“Wow,” I say. “Wikipedia Wally is in full effect today.”
“Well, it is my business to know tree talk.”
“True.”
Is it me, or has he considerably picked up the pace? I try to slow him down as I look back over my shoulder. “Hey. Wait. We’re walking past all the evergreens. I thought we were picking out a Christmas tree, fella.”
