Epilogue 2

EPILOGUE 2

I let my sisters have the pleasure of getting me ready for the Knight’s New Year’s Eve party. My gaze flits to the shiny ring on my finger.

For old-time’s sake, we’re all wearing our respective colors, with Anna in a dark purple velvet dress with lavender fringe that’s very 1920s flapper-esque. She adds rhinestone accessories. Isla wears a red satin dress with a big bow above her butt and black heels that make her legs look ten miles long.

“You’re pretty in pink,” Anna says, zipping up the back of my dress with a fitted lacy top and a wide knee-length party skirt.

Isla styles my hair in a 1950s flip. I put on our mother’s pearl earrings that she wore on her wedding day. They’re insistent I wear them this year because they always like to bring a little bit of Mom to the festivities.

“It would’ve been our parents’ thirtieth anniversary,” Anna says.

“Do you think Dadaszek’s okay?” I ask, worried that if he sees me in these earrings, he might get upset .

Isla tsks. “I’d be more concerned about him with you and Pierre in the same room.”

I press my lips together because I haven’t told my family about Pierre and me. Strangely, they haven’t asked about the ring on my finger. Then again, they only returned from the Caribbean this morning.

Clearing my throat, I’m about to come clean when the whistle blows from downstairs. Dadaszek hollers, “Guests arrive in five.”

Nerves blow through me like a northern wind. I promise myself that I’ll tell everyone the truth by the night’s end. Or tomorrow. That will work, too.

Helen and her husband, Harry, are the first to arrive. I spent all afternoon yesterday discussing job prospects with her and my father. She decided for him and has me scheduled to train under her for a week starting Monday.

Next, Micah and Meg show up with Redd and Whitney, who looks glam in a little black dress. Hayden and Delaney come in on a round of laughter, followed by Ted and Harlow, also in black. Last in line are Hammer and Pierre, who’re waxing poetic about cereal milk. It’s a surprise to see a semi-smile on Hammer’s face. He must really like cereal milk.

We greet our guests, and my sisters lead everyone through to the front room, leaving Pierre and me in the foyer.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He loops his forefinger around my ring finger.

“You look fancy,” I say, smoothing my hand down the lapel of his tux.

“It’s nice to have an occasion to dress up other than for a game.”

“Do you like dressing up?” I ask, considering he grew up on a farm .

“I like seeing you dressed up.” His flirty eyes drink me in from head to toe.

A shockwave rushes through me. “You can thank my sisters for the outfit.”

“But you’re the one who wears it so well.”

Pierre’s hand reaches for my waist. At his touch, my thoughts go fuzzy and I glance over my shoulder to where everyone is gathered.

“We should?—”

He nods. “Have you told him?”

Giving my head a short shake, we enter the room where Ilsa sits at the piano, preparing to play. A few folks gather around her, but of course, my father wants to say a few words of welcome first.

He gives a little speech about the passage of time, the highlights from the year, and the promise of the new one.

All the while, Pierre stands dangerously close to my back, heating me, and making me think terrible thoughts about closets. I mean, they’re great thoughts unless we get caught.

Dadaszek lifts his glass in a toast, and I know he’s dedicating the year ahead to Mom. If only she could see us now. What would she say? Think? Do?

Considering she and my father eloped on New Year’s Eve, once the singing around the piano is underway, distracting everyone, I grip Pierre’s hand and lead him to the coat closet.

Squished in here and towering over me, he says, “So?”

“So,” I repeat, not having come up with a good way to break the news to my father.

“Considering I was welcomed inside, it might not go as badly as you expect?”

“I was in his office nearly all day. But I didn’t have a chance, but I think he saw it .” The mixed-cut square diamond on my finger glitters in the low light .

Pierre’s eyebrows fly up. “Should I be worried that your father booby-trapped the house like in Home Alone?”

I giggle. “No, it’s all clear. I’ll tell him tonight and my sisters.”

“They don’t know either?”

“It’s been the most difficult and easiest secret to keep.”

Pierre smooths a piece of my hair. “I don’t want to be a secret.”

I gaze into his eyes as they dip toward my lips. My voice, barely above a whisper, I say, “I cannot fathom how we’ve kept it so long . . . Unless—” But my fear that they do know and are waiting to strike gets lost as I sink into my fiancé’s lips. Even though I graduated from Kiss Class, this will never get old.

His fingers weave through my hair. Mine grip the back of his neck. Our breathing comes fast in this stuffy space surrounded by coats and hockey gear. In fact, I think I’m standing on a bulk box of pucks.

The kiss deepens and the sounds of the party fade. All I can think about is Pierre’s mouth against mine and the not-so-secret future that will soon be ours.

Then, a bright light shines in my eyes.

Wrapped in Pierre’s arms, I draw back slightly as the door swings the rest of the way open with a perfect view of the front room, complete with our guests and Ilsa at the piano. She hits the wrong note at the same time the many years’ worth of Badaszek belongings that had been stuffed in the closet—along with Pierre and me—avalanche toward the floor, taking us with them.

Pierre bolsters me with his body as we fall amidst hockey helmets, snow shoes, a bicycle basket, and a myriad of other odds and ends.

Lying on our backs and still holding hands, everyone gathers around us in a semi-circle. Pierre proffers my father a faint wave. There’s no way to salvage my rosy cheeks, disheveled hair, and kiss-stained lips from the obvious conclusion they’re all likely drawing looking at us upside down on the floor.

Yes, we were making out in the closet, so I do the only thing I can think of. No, I won’t bear the lie any longer.

Holding up my left hand for everyone to see, I declare, “Pierre and I are engaged!”

My father nods, “I know.”

“You know?” Pierre and I say at the same time.

“Arsenault, when you came into my office, I knew you’d try again with my daughter. It couldn’t be avoided. I figured I’d stay out of it. Let Cara make her own decision for once.”

“Thanks, Dadaszek, but, um, we weren’t really in a secret relationship.” Much like the junk in the hall closet, the truth spills out.

My father’s eyes twinkle as if he also knew about that but opts to spare me further embarrassment.

A long silence follows before Ilsa says, “Congratulations! Also, I’m pregnant.”

Anna adds, “Cal and I are adopting twins!”

My father, known as one of the roughest hockey players in his day and bar none the toughest coach in the league, gazes at the ceiling with tears in his eyes and says, “Thank you, Kathleen.”

There’s a round of congratulations offered for all the good news.

Pierre helps me to my feet. He gives me an affectionate side hug and kisses me on the temple. “It’s true. Cara has made me the happiest man alive and I want nothing more than the opportunity to make her the happiest woman for the rest of my life.”

Dadaszek winks at me. I think. Either that or he has something in his eye, but I’m distracted because everyone claps nervously as if waiting for my father’s response.

He opens his arms, draws Pierre into a bro hug, and says, “Welcome to the family, Frenchman.”

They head into the den where Dadaszek watches hockey highlights and only emerge with massive smiles an hour later, discussing a play made during a legendary game back in 1992. Meanwhile, my sisters and I have been gabbing about our respective pieces of news. I’m going to be an auntie! And a wife! And my father’s assistant! All feels right in the world.

Then, an idea comes to me about how to save the Christmas Market. I tell the Mrs. Claus Squad, and they’re all in to raise money for the Cobbiton CAC with the help of our hockey team and my drawing skills.

Anna checks her watch. “We should get ready for this countdown.”

Ilsa returns to the piano bench to play “Auld Lang Syne.”

Pierre comes to my side and wraps his arm around me as we commence the drop to midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, we all cheer, and I have my first-ever New Year’s kiss.

“I think this is going to be a good one,” Pierre says.

I add, “The first of many.”

And we kiss again.