Epilogue

GRAY - ONE YEAR LATER

T he first snow fell the day before the Thanksgiving parade, and it made Christmas Falls look like a snow globe. This would never be my favorite time of year, but I don’t think I’d ever get tired of the way the town looked at the beginning of the season.

Sunny, me, and a few of our friends were on the roof of Dancing Sugar Plums and had the best view. We could see the parade coming from blocks away and enjoyed the crowds below us. We also had a perfect view of the massive Christmas tree in Sugar Plum Park, just waiting to be lit up. This year, Griff got Sunny to install all the lighting at the top, and Sunny had way more fun than he should have. I’d stood to the side, sick to my stomach, praying he wouldn’t fall.

Of course, he didn’t and wouldn’t. Sunny could climb like nobody’s business. In fact, he’d told me the only thing he missed about Chicago was his climbing gym. He missed it so much that he bought the space next to the town gym and added a climbing studio.

He was too busy with his own work to run it, but one of the lessons he’d been learning this year was how to delegate. So, he hired the main instructor from his place in Chicago to come in and take over the studio.

That might have been a mistake, though, since there’d been some prior history with Baz that Sunny hadn’t known about. But they managed to avoid each other when Baz was in town, so I wasn’t too worried about it. Speaking of, Baz’s head popped through the door leading to the roof.

“Did you miss me?” he asked as Sunny hopped up.

“Baz!”

I waffled my hand. “I wouldn’t say missed you.”

Baz shot me the finger. “I’ll have you know that I wrapped up Paris two whole weeks early just so I could be here with you two.”

“Ignore him, Baz. And I definitely missed you,” Sunny said, giving his brother a big hug. “How are you? I feel like I’ve barely seen you this year.”

Baz smiled, his eyes crinkled with exhaustion. “I was going to talk to you about a leave of absence, to be honest.”

“You should stay here,” Sunny quickly suggested. “It’s so quiet. Well—” He gestured to the crowd below us. “It’s quiet the rest of the year.”

“Honestly, I was considering it.” Baz shot me a devil grin. “And because I know how loud you can get, I’ve already rented Miriam’s cabin out by the falls.”

Sunny chuckled and shook his arm. “Hopefully, you’ll have better luck with it than I did.”

“Hey,” I said, standing in front of my beloved to cup his face. “I thought we got quite lucky with that cabin.”

“True,” he said, his smile genuine. “Very true.”

In addition to shifting things around so that he could live here and only go to Chicago when he needed, Sunny had also gone back to therapy regarding his issues with crowds and flying. Both had gotten a lot better, but his therapist made sure we understood that it’s okay if they never fully resolve.

It took a while for Sunny to realize that I was never going to complain about flying him somewhere or finding places that weren’t crowded so he could enjoy himself. It was a pleasure to make life easier for him.

I touched my chest pocket, feeling the box inside, hoping he’d give me the chance to take care of him for the rest of my life.

Sunny

This year has been one of the most transformative of my life. Even more than the year my mom died, to be honest. I’d felt like a failure, what with not being able to hack it in Chicago, but the city had been eating me alive. When I allowed myself to be in a space that fit better, I started to like Chicago more.

Gray and I flew there once a month for me to spend time at the office and for us to, er, reconnect in a fancy suite on the Miracle Mile. We also went to see the Cubs when they were in season and even took a short flight to St. Louis to see the Cubs trounce the Cardinals in their fancy stadium, which was glorious.

Sitting here, able to enjoy the parade—when I would’ve never gone previously—made me wonder if there were ways to make it more accessible for others like me. I mentally put that on my to-do list for next year’s Christmas tidings.

It had been strange, learning to love Christmas again at the hands of someone closer to Grinch than Santa Claus, but I couldn’t have had a better teacher. The way Gray simply saw me and found new and thoughtful ways to give me what I needed—without stress or pressure—made me love him more and more.

I wasn’t the only one who had changed, though. Gray wasn’t so gray these days. I still couldn’t make myself call him by his given name, Gregory, but I was happy to be part of making him brighter. Adam at the Snowflake Shack even added a sunrise to Gray’s corner and updated the phrase to say Partly Gray, With Sun.

“They’re about to light up the Christmas tree,” Gray said, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

Christmas Falls’ city council had deemed it necessary to add a big clock for the occasion, and we joined the crowd in counting down. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . .”

Jem Knight, ex-football player and genuinely nice guy, pulled down the comically big lever and the tree lit up. The whole scene was so bright and beautiful, and I had such a sense of pride for being a part of it. I leaned back against Gray.

“Ouch! What is that?” I said, pulling forward, bruising myself on something hard in his chest pocket.

“Oh, sorry. Let me take care of that for you,” he said, still holding me from behind. His hand came around to the front again.

I looked down and saw a small, black velvet box.

“No way,” I said, and he laughed. Even Baz laughed at that one.

I scowled at my brother. “Shut up, he’s proposing to me.”

Baz zipped his lips and gestured for Gray to continue.

Gray kissed the edge of my ear. “Sunny Day, will you be mine? Forever?”

He then opened the box, revealing a ring that was a mix of platinum and gold.

“This reminds me of us,” I said, reaching for it.

He snapped the box at my finger, Pretty Woman-style. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Frost,” I laughed. “That is a yes.”

The sniffle in my ear had me turning to face him.

“Shut up,” he said, wiping his eyes before removing the ring from the box. He knelt—out of order, I would later remind him—and slid it on my finger.

I started sniffling, too, which made our friends and family laugh. I pulled him up to his feet and practically launched myself at him.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” I said through tears and laughter.

“I love you, too, Sunny. Forever.”

“Good, because forever with you sounds just about right.”

Thank you for reading Frost Impressions!