Epilogue

The O’Hara house was one of a kind, Sophie thought.

She heard footsteps trampling through the hallways and down the stairs, along with muffled laughter and a child’s shriek of joy. It was a Christmas morning she was sure to remember. She pulled the covers tighter and rolled over to try and drown out the noise and came face-to-face with Hank.

“My family is so loud,” he whispered. “I told you we should have slept at home and driven over later.”

“And break tradition?” she asked. “We couldn’t do that to your mother. Besides, I’m not going to sleep any better at home than here.”

Hank placed a hand on her round belly and immediately felt a kick. “He kept you up all night?”

“He’s definitely a night owl,” she said. “And with any luck he’ll come on his due date.”

“That’s today,” Hank said, feeling a combination of euphoria and panic that had become common over the last weeks of Sophie’s pregnancy.

“That’s why I said with luck,” she said. “I don’t feel any closer than I did yesterday.”

“Why are we whispering?” he asked, grinning.

“I have no idea,” she said. “I love you. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you too. It’s crazy the difference a year can make. A year ago today was a very different experience.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said, snuggling as close as her stomach would allow. “I guess I should thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For your patience,” she said. “For loving me when I had a hard time loving myself. For asking me to marry you. For figuring out a way for the bookstore to survive and making sure the stained-glass window is there for everyone to see and for me to remember. For helping me realize my dreams. The list is long.”

“Well, I had help,” he said, rubbing her lower back so she purred with pleasure. “Sometimes things are a gift in disguise. Who could have planned that the building across from The Lampstand would ever become available? And your great-grandfather’s window shines as a symbol of hope. Just like The Lampstand shines as a beacon of light for the people in Laurel Valley. I’m proud of you.”

“We’re a good team,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Now if you don’t mind,” she said. “Maybe we could get out of bed and get dressed. I think the next O’Hara is going to show up right on time.”

And twelve hours later, he did.