Page 81 of Sawyer

“Are you ready, my love?” she asks. “My heart. My very soul. My…Heathcliff. Come with me now.”

I toss aside the bed sheets and blanket, swing my legs over the bed and stand up. Aaron widens the blue spotlight a little so that Catherine and I can share it.

“Is it time?” I ask her, pulling her into my arms. “Have I reached heaven?Myheaven?”

“Ourheaven,” she says, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss me.

“Ourheaven,” I say, smiling down at her.

Hand in hand, we walk slowly off the stage together.

A moment later, Ellen rushes into the room. She clasps her hands together, standing quietly at the bedside, then pulls the covers up over the pillow, kneels down and weeps.

The stage goes dark.

I stand beside Ivy in the shadows of stage right, squeezing her hand nervously. Aren’t they all supposed to clap now? It’s so quiet. I don’t hear a peep from the audience. Are they going to clap, or was it the worst—

“Bravo!” yells someone in the darkness.

The stage lights come back up as the entire theater goes bonkers.

Clapping, amid shouts of, “Wonderful!” and “Way to go!”, the entire town of Skagway is on their feet when Ivy and I return to the stage to take our bows. We raise our joined hands over our heads and grin at each other.

I love you, she mouths to me.

I love you, too.

And then—for the heck of it and despite all of Bruce’s warnings—I pull Ivy Caswell back into my arms, in front of the entire town, and kiss her like crazy.

You know what?

Bruce was wrong.

The crowd…goes…wild.

(Again.)

***

An hour later, Ivy’s sitting on my lap in a dark corner of the Happy Endings Saloon.

The Yuletide Ball is in full swing, we have been congratulated for our performances about twenty times and are surrounded by friends and family.

In front of us are a bunch of empty and partially-filled beer glasses, and sharing our table are: Tanner and McKenna, Parker, Reeve, Wyatt, Layla, Neena and Aaron.

“Whose turn is it?” asks Tanner, gesturing to the empty pitcher.

“Mine,” says Parker. “Reeve, come with me?”

Reeve has been looking like a storm cloud all night, and that’s a fact. As she leaves, I nudge Aaron, who’s sitting beside me.

“You sure know how to put my little sister in a foul mood.”

Aaron’s slightly older than me, a little taller than me, just as built, quieter than most, and the very, very sharp thorn in Reeve’s side for reasons I’ve yet to learn. That said, I’ve grown fond of Aaron while we worked on the play together. He’s a good guy, and I know Joe’s a fan of Aaron’s, too. I’d love to know what happened between him and Reeve.

“Your sister is a—”

“Careful,” says Tanner.

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