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“I’m in.”
EPILOGUE- FOUR MONTHS LATER
Mason
I curl my arm around Chelsea as she adjusts the phone in front of us.
“I can’t get us both in view,” she complains, and I lift her up by the waist, depositing her in my lap, where I really happen to like her.
“Better?” I ask.
“Much.” She snuggles into me with a sigh, then taps the phone to start the call. “Plus, John will hate it.”
“Hate what?” John’s voice comes through before his face comes into focus on the screen. He makes a face. “Oh. The snuggling.”
I nuzzle Chelsea’s neck, and John covers his eyes with a groan.
Laughter bursts out of her, making us both shake. “Dude, you promised.”
“And you promised to stop calling me dude. Did the package come?”
Chelsea wiggles a little, knowing what’s coming. I never get over the way her feelings spill so freely from her. It’s a beautiful quality. A great balance to my reserve, which has softened a little because of her. I think it’s made me a better man.
No—shehas made me a better man.
Not only has she helped me be more open, but she’s also been a great sounding board for drawing healthy boundaries with my mom. Things aren’t much better there, but I think until Mom is ready for the help she needs, we’re doing the best we can. It’s a start. And Chelsea’s unwavering optimism gives me hope.
On screen, John starts to rip open the package with his teeth. Chelsea and I both lunge toward the phone, which she then drops to the floor.
“Don’t open it yet!” Chelsea practically squeals.
I balance Chels with a strong arm around her waist while angling down to pick up the phone under the coffee table. I carefully lift it up, trying to angle the screen just right to avoid seeing things I don’t want him to see. Yet.
“Sheesh! I thought you wanted me to open it,” John says. “Isn’t that the point of sending a package?”
But then his face goes slack as I manage to get the phone back in front of us. Chelsea tenses.Oh no. John’s brows knit, and I bite my lip.
John leans forward and points a finger at the phone. “What did I just see?”
“What do you mean?” Chelsea asks, an overly innocent tone that is not even alittlebelievable.
“Show me your hand,” John demands.
Chelsea waves her right hand at him. “See?”
“Nope. The other one.”
“It looks just like this one, but in reverse.” She rolls her eyes. “Haven’t you seen a hand before?”
I can’t help it. My shoulders start to shake, and I bury my head in the back of Chelsea’s neck. Chelsea snorts, and then we both lose it. I’m still holding the phone, but I think it’s pointing at the ceiling. Or the floor.
Or right at Chelsea’s engagement ring, which we were trying to hide until just the right moment.
“Why are you laughing? Someone be straight with me!”
“I feel bad,” I whisper into Chelsea’s ear.
“Are you kidding?” she whispers back. “John deserves everything we dish out. And then some.”
