Page 132 of Our Long Days
Graham observes the scuffle from behind his glasses. “Can I go home now?”
“No!” we all reply in unison.
The four of us chat while we wait for our partners to return. Apparently, changing a diaper requires multiple sets of hands.
“Can you believe this time two years ago, we were all single, lonely bastards?” Booth says, gesturing in front of him. “How did we get so lucky?”
We turn and find our better halves walking our way.
Lottie hangs off Quinn’s arm before sprinting toward us and plowing into me.
“Oomph.You’re getting big, kiddo.” I ruffle her hair.
Johanna hands Madeline to Patrick. He kisses the tuft of blonde hair on the baby’s head and exchanges a look with his wife.
Quinn and Graham stare dreamily at the baby, which is when I notice Quinn, like her husband, isn’t drinking tonight.Interesting.
Aly tucks herself into Booth’s side, pressing a kiss to hischeek and leaving a bright red lipstick mark on his skin. He doesn’t seem to care one bit.
Then, there’s my girl, already grinning up at me wildly, a sight I’ll never tire of. I move her to stand in front of me and wrap both arms around her, sealing us together.
“I like this,” Florence announces. “The eight of us together.”
“I hope we’re still doing this for years to come,” Quinn sniffles.
“Of course we will.” Jo nudges her arm. “You’re stuck with us.”
Aly raises her drink. “No matter where we are, we’ll make time to do this. That’s what family’s about. New, old, blood or not.Yia mas!”
We all echo the Greek toast and clink our glasses together.
Florence nestles further into my chest, closing her eyes and smiling to herself.
I bend, lips hovering by her ear. “What are you thinking about, Trouble?”
“Us,” she says dreamily. “The past year and the years to come. Our future.”
“What does it look like?”
She cranes her neck, meeting my gaze. “Beautiful. I can’t wait to see what’s next.”
I know exactly what’s next, but I don’t share that with her.
Mentally, I add a new item to our list. It’s been on my mind for a while, probably before I accepted Florence was my future. There was a time it was a dream. Now, I’m living it.
Ask Florence Sadler to be my wife — pending.
“What’s that smile for?” She presses a finger to my lips.
“You’ll find out.”
epilogue
SOME YEARS LATER
FLORENCE
“I hate to be the bear of bad news…” My voice trails off as I catch my breath and lower myself onto the Adirondack chair next to my husband. “But this is the last one. I. Am. Done.”
