EPILOGUE
“Surprise!” Alice shouted as Takumi walked through the door.
“How is this a surprise? You’re alone. I gave you a key. We agreed we’d meet here.”
She twirled around him in a circle with a basket in her hand.
“Please stop throwing rose petals at me.” He laughed.
“Well, excuse me for being festive,” she said, coming to a stop in front of him with her hands on her hips. “And I am not throwing. I amshoweringyou with a stereotypical representation of my affections.” She scrunched her nose and stood on her tiptoes. “Happy anniversary.”
He kissed her quickly and wrapped her in a hug. “We’re still doing this every month? I thought six was the big one for you?”
“Yes, until we hit one year, and then I’ll stop being quite so extra. Not a lot though. Just a little. No promises.”
It had been seven glorious months.
(SEVEN.)
“Deal. Would you be upset if we had takeout?”
“Takeout?” She clutched her pearls.“You?”
“I don’t think I’m up for cooking.” He kissed one cheek. “Thinkingof going to a restaurant makes me want to take a nap.” He kissed the other.
She placed a hand on his forehead. “Who are you and what have you done with my Takumi?”
“I worked twelve hours three days in a row. I’m tired.”
“The school festival slash play thing was a success?”
“Seemed like it. The parents were… interesting.” He took a step back, looking at her. “You look nice. Wholesome.”
She twirled again. She had chosen a fifties aesthetic.
(Polka-dot dress, fluffy curls in her hair, pearls, and high heels.)
(All the aesthetics of the decade minus the margarine.)
(Because it was disgusting.)
“Were you able to get Friday off?”
“Uh, about that…”
“Feenie’s going to murder you.” She shook her head. “You finally make it into her good graces and now this.”
Getting Feenie and Takumi in the same room had taken weeks of machinations and failed attempts. Everything had finally come together on Thanksgiving. Takumi had volunteered to cook, Feenie refused to acknowledge his presence, but right before grabbing a third helping of his macaroni and cheese, she had looked at him, and said, “You hurt Alice, I hurt you. Are we clear? And pass the cranberry sauce. Please.”
(Alice had nearly fainted when she got her wedding invitation. It had been addressed to herandTakumi.)
“It’s just the rehearsal dinner,” Takumi said. “Am I really going to miss much? And why is it at noon anyway?”
“Because that night we have plans.”
He eyed her. “Plans that don’t involve me or Ryan. We’re nervous. Extremely so.”
“It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”