by Emily Childs
Epilogue
“O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial.”
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Romeo and Juliet
Summer is nearly over, and I am buying a car. Everyone should have a Jonas when buying a car. We stand at the front of the lot. Jonas’s bartering and haggling results in the salesman narrowing our choices down to three different cars. Now, the rest is up to me. I’ve secured a part-time position with a newspaper editing articles. Still not a dream job, but with my new cash flow, the time has come to have something to show for it all.
Agnes holds Jonas’s hand—she always holds his hand—and I carry her booster seat. As soon as Jonas decided on a law school in Ohio, I knew a car would be my first priority. He’s leaving in a little over three weeks and now he won’t be the only one who drives back and forth. I plan to get to know the highways between here and Ohio well.
“Okay,” I say with a deep breath. “Let’s try the blue one first.”
My dad stands in the dealership with Farfar and Inez—who knew buying a car was such a family affair? But Inez comes for Agnes, Farfar comes because he wants to, and Dad likes to haggle as much as Jonas. I think they are sort of competing with each other on who makes the best argument and ultimately the best deal.
“Let’s do it,” Jonas says, helping set Agnes up in the back seat.
Jumping in the passenger seat, Jonas smiles at me and takes my hand while I test out the car. At the end of the drive Jonas lists numerous problems he thinks the car might give me in the future.
“I like the way it drives, but it does click. And there’s no stereo system,” I say.
Jonas nods. “I agree. Should we give the white one a go?”
The same process, Agnes perches in the middle back seat. She squeals because she is included, and fifteen minutes later when we return there comes a new list of potential problems.
“The gas mileage isn’t great,” Jonas says. “And look, the check engine light is on. No way. You’re not driving this car if it’s going to leave you stranded.”
I chuckle and kiss his cheek. “That’s a little dramatic, it’s not like I’ll be driving in uncharted territory.”
“Hey,” he says. “You won’t win this argument. Everything else you can win, but not when it comes to your safety and me worrying about you.”
“The silver one!” Agnes squeals even more excitable than usual. “Hurry!”
“Okay, hold on.” I grin and help her from the backseat. Agnes limps toward the car. Spacious, nice interior, and back up camera. I scrub my hands together and take the wheel. Hopefully, the third time will be a charm.
“Okay, ready?” Jonas asks, his smile wider than a moment ago. I nod and catch the way Agnes covers her little mouth, stifling her joy.
We drive a little longer because I like the feel of the machine, and Agnes keeps begging to go on winding side streets for a little more fun. When we pull back into the lot, I clap my hands softly, but eye Jonas with a lifted brow.
“Well, what do you think?” Jonas asks.
“Oh, I’m waiting for your list of hazards,” I say.
He smiles, kissing the top of my hand he’s holding, and looks out the window. “I like it. The ride is smooth, has low miles. What’s the price again?”
I scan the front of the car, then the back windshield. “I don’t see a price sticker.”
“Maybe it’s inside somewhere,” Jonas offers and opens the glove box, ruffling a few papers.
“Maybe it’s in there, Brita!” Agnes bounces and points to the center console.
“What’s with you, Aggie?” I laugh, but lift the top of the console.
My heart leaps to my throat. At the bottom of the empty console is a small black box with a tag that has my name. Jonas takes the box without a word, steps out of the passenger door, and walks around to my side. My hands cover my mouth, tears already blind me when I realize what is happening.
Everything is unshakably clear when Agnes nearly bursts from her seat belt, and now I see both our families smiling outside the dealership. I’ve no idea where they’ve been hiding. Dad and Farfar’s ulterior motives for coming with us are obvious. Now, Sigrid and Elias stand next to my dad, Farfar and Inez. Viggo grins next to Bastien and Oscar. I release a little sob when I see my mom and Todd.
This is happening.
Jonas opens my car door, but I can’t look at him. The tips of his ears are red as he takes my hands, then gently eases me around in my seat. He goes to one knee, the box open. Inside the sun gleams over a perfect diamond on a slender band. Warm tears soak my face and I don’t care, I beam at Jonas.
“Brita Jacobson. I love everything about you and I can’t imagine my life without you, not for one single day. You’ve made me a better man, so I hope you’ll give me the chance to show you how much I love you each day, from now until forever. Will you do me the greatest honor of marrying me?”
I must nod my head as a breathy gasp escapes my throat and Jonas slides the ring on my finger. My hands smash against the sides of his face and I pull him into a tender kiss, unlike anything we’ve shared so far. My tears soak his cheeks when I pull back. Jonas smiles and kisses me again—well, several times—before he stands, and I step out of the car.
“How did you do this?” I ask, wiping my eyes.
“I had them set up a few clunkers that I figured you wouldn’t like so we’d stop on this one.”
“So, are we getting the car?” I laugh.
“If it’s what you want.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t stand to go to Ohio without you.” He kisses me again while the stampede of Scandinavians bombards us.
Jonas frees Agnes from her tether while our families cheer and smother us away from each other. I am happy sobbing when Mom wraps her arms around my neck rather aggressively, then drops me and nearly snaps Jonas’s spine. Sigrid hugs me too, gentler than Mom, but still really hugs me.
Dad kisses my forehead and shakes Jonas’s hand. Farfar leans in and whispers, “He ought to take our name; it’s really what’s best.”
“I heard that Philip,” Viggo says. “The Olsen name goes on.”
“Jacobson,” Farfar whispers again, stepping back.
Elias holds a cell phone, Axel’s face on the screen since he is still at his clinical internship. He claps and smiles at Jonas. “Good job, guys. I wondered when you’d get up the nerve, little brother,” he says.
Jonas talks with his brother a bit, and then I say hello. Axel did come home for a few days two weeks earlier. Jonas and I went on a double date with him and a girl named Kate. In case anyone wondered, there isn’t an ounce of weirdness between any of us.
While our families celebrate, Jonas wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “You know, when I went to talk with your dad, your grandpa was there, and your aunt, your uncle, and they had your mom and Todd on the phone. For your information, I was kindly informed by your grandpa that I would become a Jacobson.”
“Oh, no,” I whisper, but I can visualize the scene without much imagination. “I’m looking forward to being an Olsen. I’m the happiest girl around, you know. You’ve made me the happiest, Jonas. You’re stuck with me now.”
He brushes the hair from my face, kisses my lips gently. A memory flashes through my mind in that moment as we watch enemies become family. I laugh, remembering how Jonas compared Axel to my Romeo once, and me Juliet. In this moment, I consider Jonas as my Romeo, but I shake my head slightly.
I kiss him, kiss him until he knows how I feel without a doubt. The truth is Jonas is so much better than Romeo.
A Sneak Peek at A Little Ado About Love
Starring: Axel and Elle
Chapter 1
“Think about this, Elle,” Auntie Kathy said, my keys in her hand, well out of reach. She wasn’t my aunt, but everyone in the department called the director of nursing, Auntie. “Really think about this, sweetie.”
I m
ade a swipe for the keys, but the woman was six foot; it was a hard miss.
“Give me my keys.”
Kathy shook her head. “No, not unless you promise me, you’re using them to drive away and not to carve some cuss word on the side of his car door, sugar.”
“Fine, I’ll write, tool, or jerk-off…or—hic—bald…baldness,” I sobbed.
“Baldness? That’s creative.”
Swiping salty rivers from my face I offered a guttural attempt at a laugh, but only more tears came. “You…know he’s afraid o-o-of…” My face pinched as I covered my eyes with my hand and the final words escaped as a wail. “Of receding hairlines!”
I know Kathy didn’t want to laugh, and there were a few grunts made to try and stop the sound, but her pleasant chuckle came anyway. “Oh, Elle, take a breath sugar plum.”
“I can’t! Let me do this, Kath, please give me this last thing.”
Kathy curled her slender fingers around my keys and tightened her dark lips into an aunt-worthy frown. “You’re better than this. I know this is tough, but I went to bat for you. I’ve got y’all set up. Don’t ruin those chances on some whim and a misdemeanor!”
Burning tears squeezed from the corner of my eyes as I puffed a few times to keep the sob buried inside. “I don’t understand why I can’t…stay.”
Kathy wrapped me in her thick arms. Her touch was like smooth cocoa on Christmas morning. “Oh, sugar plum, I know it’s not fair. Not one bit, but the dog is an exec, and…well, I tried.”
Running my hand under my nose, I nodded and pulled away. Plus, I liked that she called him a dog. “I know you did, Kath.”
She cupped my chin and smiled so her dark complexion gleamed in the sunlight. “You’ve got this, girl. You hear me?”
“I feel like I’m being run out of my home,” I admitted.
“Pumpkin, home is where your heart is, and you’re going to find that again.”
I offered a watery laugh. “I don’t think Lindstrom is where my heart is.”
“You never know. I’m a believer of things happening for a reason. Besides, you know that girl karma, she’s a…well, you know what she is.”
I wiped the sticky run from my nose again and laughed. Kathy was the quintessential cusser, to the point her husband had a bet she couldn’t go an entire week without letting one slip. She was on day four.
“Oh, come here.” She wrapped me up again. “Don’t lower yourself now. Don’t you dare.”
“How do I do this, Kath?”
“With your head held high, sugar. With your head held high.”
I nodded, but didn’t feel the same confidence. The phone call would be the hardest. I could already hear the silence on the other end as I asked—gulp—my parents in Lindstrom, Minnesota if I could move back home.
Pulling out my scratched phone, my fingers trembled as I tapped the numbers.
Here goes nothing.
***
Ten years. That’s how long I’ve had my driver’s license, so you can imagine it is more than a little embarrassing having my mother drop me off by the curb.
“We’re going out with Maya and Graham tonight,” she says without looking at me.
“Oh, what time?”
“You’ll still be at work, I’m sure.”
My mouth tightens, but I keep my voice light. “Those blasted twelve-hour shifts.”
Folding the driver seat mirror, her attention locks on me like a missile. For two seconds she fusses with my long braid and tsks. “You didn’t dry your hair?”
“I didn’t have time. I’m not here to impress anyone with my hair.”
Mom shrugs and taps the steering wheel. “I know that sort of thing hasn’t ever been a priority for you, I just thought it being your first day and all…”
With a sigh, I close my eyes and smack my head on the headrest. “Mom, can we not?”
“What?” she asks innocently, even adding a dramatic shoulder shrug for good measure. “I’m just saying, I think you’ll feel better about things if you…spruce up a bit sometimes. Maya says you could have as much time in the salon as you wanted.”
I steal a stick of chewing gum from her open purse and shake my head. “Curling, dying, or extending my hair, isn’t going to solve this. I better go. Wish me luck.”
“I doubt you’ll need luck,” she says with a scoff. “You’ve been working in the exact setting for the last six years.”
I roll my eyes, call me immature, but the ten-minute drive has worn me down that my inner teenager can’t resist. Adjusting the woolen satchel Auntie Kathy gave me over my shoulder, I open the passenger door and practically leap out. “It’s just an expression, Mom. Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you later.” Have fun with my successful sister and her perfect husband without me. That’s what I should have said.
Mom offers a wave that I meekly return before squaring toward the towering building. A natural smile tugs at my lips and it seems easier to breathe now that I’m out of the car and on the sidewalk. The start to a new chapter is about to begin, wet braid and all.
A pungent wall of antiseptic, latex gloves, and a touch of greasy fried chicken accosts my nose as the north doors slid open. Golden sun paints gilded ribbons on the floor tiles, and although each busy bee bustling about hardly acknowledges anyone else, it feels like the heavens welcome me to my new beginning. I utter a silent thanks to Kathy. I won’t spoil her efforts to help me out.
Closing my eyes, I take a moment to embrace the new opportunity. Maybe I release my breath too dramatically because when I crack one eye, I meet the stare of a squirrely woman seated at the front desk whose granola bar is paused halfway to her mouth. Certain my cheeks are as pink as cherries; I realize my mini meditation has blocked traffic through the doors. In front of me, a quizzical nursing assistant grips a wheelchair with a woman clutching her newborn. Even the baby hushes, adding to the thick awkwardness. I smile and step to the left only to smash against a man gripping blue balloons, a stuffed diaper bag, and a novel of hospital paperwork.
“Whoops, sorry,” I say as I step back toward the outside walk.
“Watch it,” says a supplier pushing a towering cart of metal oxygen tanks.
“Sorry.”
I jump to the side and bounce back and forth like a fly against a glass window as I try to clear the path. My satchel slips off one shoulder and succumbs to the weight of the moving wheelchair. Slats from the rubber mat indent in the chevron pattern as the wheels squish overtop, along with a nice streak of dirt from some muddy shoe.
“Oh, sorry,” says the assistant, but she doesn’t stop her errand of freeing the new parents into the wild.
I wave her off. What else can I do before the earth swallows me whole? After an eternity of my clumsy dance I’m able to stand straight. Okay, so the new beginning had a rocky start. It’s only eight in the morning; all it will take is trying again.
With a shrug, I secure the braided strap of my bag and take my first, successful step over the threshold. Clearly, I’ve mistaken my celestial welcome to North Lindstrom General Hospital. The bustle catches hold of me as I drift into the lobby and I immediately become nothing more than a piece of the hive. True, one person might be a small part of the hive, but I can play my part—and I am determined to play it well.
“Hi there,” I say with a grin to my squirrely front desk friend. Living in North Carolina for the last ten years gave me the right to claim the sort of accent southern mamas dream of for their little ones. It suits, since growing up I sounded too much like our Canadian neighbors for dear old Dad, and too Western for Mom. If I can’t be a proper Minnesotan, then I’ll be southern. “I’m looking for Orthopedics. It’s my first day.”
The woman offers a nod, never saying a word about the front entrance debacle, spins her chair, and returns with a blue lanyard. The plastic card on the end is unremarkable with the simple word visitor printed on one side. “Head to the second floor, and just after the therapy gym on your left, you’ll see the front de
sk. They’ll make sure to set you up.”
“Great.” I guess I have too much chirp because the woman lifts a brow again. I don’t know what to say, so I blurt out, “I’m a nurse.”
“I can see that,” she says; her eyes scan my new charcoal scrubs. I think they look shiny and professional. She doesn’t seem too impressed. “Well, welcome. Hope you enjoy working with Lindstrom General.”
Don’t sound too thrilled. I determine her lethargic tone doesn’t matter, even the waltz with the maternity ward isn’t going to ruin this for me. This is a new day and I take to the elevators with an extra skip to my step.
After ten years, I’m back home, if I even know what that word means. Truth told, I left for a reason, you know, to spread my wings. I figured a decade offered plenty of time to forget a face. So, maybe I’m starting anew in someplace old, but I have serious doubts anyone will recognize me. I count that on my list of positives.
Standing in the elevator as it buzzes though the walls. I inspect my overgrown roots in the shiny aluminum. Maybe I ought to take my sister up on her offer to visit her salon. She always tells me I can’t let my darker hair fade, especially since I have the stormy blue eyes. I guess that adds to my washed-out look that drives her insane. These eyes aren’t so starry now. Since leaving Lindstrom, life has taught me a thing or two.
Maybe I’m not the beauty queen like Maya, with her high cheekbones, perfect brows, and hips that will make an hourglass jealous. But I don’t need the endless reminders on how I need to fix me, you know?
I inherited the round face, with a smile that always crinkles my nose and reveals my top gums. My hips…well, listen, my hands always have a place to rest without a problem. Late night study sessions in nursing school around pizza boxes developed into a lifestyle. I’m a jogger, okay? And carbs are a way of life for runners. Even cheesy carbs.
The elevator doors ding and open. I can’t help smiling as I step onto the quieter floor, if anything is home, it is this hallway. Surrounded by wide corridors with beautiful canvas paintings of the city on the walls I am promptly reminded of where I truly belong.