Page 180 of Sugar & Shadows

While the volunteers were counting, Sabrina spun around and threw her arms around me. “Congrats, Mr. Mayor.”

I picked her up, twirled her around, and gave her a kiss. “Looks like you’re staying,” I said.

“I was never leaving.” She brushed her nose against mine. “But Gabe?”

My heart tripped over itself. “Yeah?”

“We have a lot of work to do.”

Epilogue

Sabrina

6 Months Later…

“Am I hungover?” Harper barked out a laugh.

I shot her a look. “Of course not. You’re only seventeen.”

“I am,” Nina said, putting her head on the table in the middle of the TAP war room.

Meg, who’d driven up for the weekend, rolled her shoulders. “I think it was the flash mob that took me out.”

“No,” my mom rasped. “It was the karaoke. Still hurts to talk.”

“In fairness, your version of ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ was iconic,” Nina drawled.

My mom gave her a weak smile.

“People,” I said, glaring over my clipboard, “we have work to do.”

“Says the ninety-three-week pregnant woman,” Harper huffed. “How did you survive the weekend?”

“What can I say? I’m motivated,” I said with a smile. Also I was nesting like a motherfucker, but I wasn’t ready to admit that.

Gabe raised an eyebrow at me, but I ignored him.

Placing my hand on my absolutely enormous belly, I scolded them. “We are less than six months from the Inaugural Maplewood Games, and did I mention we’ve got a food festival in two weeks? Tourism dollars don’t grow on trees, people.”

Everyone stared at me.

“So the weekend was a little busy,” I said casually. Pausing as a cramp ripped through my abdomen.

Braxton Hicks. They’d been terrible for the past hour or so.

My mom slapped her hand on the table. “The three-day Marigold Shaw Memorial Extravaganza was a hell of a lot more than ‘a little busy.’”

“Yes,” Meg added. “Saying goodbye to our queen took a lot out of us.”

Marigold had passed one week ago, at home and in comfort. She’d had, in her words, “a marvelous time” and had said her goodbyes. I was still struggling with the loss of my friend, a woman I’d learned so much from.

Naturally, she had planned her own funeral. Though funeral wasn’t the right word to describe the event. An experience, maybe? A multi-day production that was outlined precisely in a binder called Strategic Plan: Party Like a Rockstar that she had walked us through to make sure we didn’t “fuck it up.”

Her wishes were honored, so over the weekend, we’d participated in a town-wide scavenger hunt, a pie-eating competition, karaoke, and a bonfire where every attendant had to tell an embarrassing story. The entire event was open bar, and she was adamant that no black clothing was allowed. Finding leopard-print maternity wear on short notice had proven tricky, but I’d made it happen for Marigold.

Harper’s video tribute and the ensuing flash mob that was live streamed caused quite a stir, and the entire town had partied into the night. This morning we had all been summoned for one last goodbye at the cemetery followed by the reading of Marigold’s will. I was still reeling.

Not only did Marigold own a few pieces of valuable real estate, but she’d amassed a small fortune in her life.