Happily Letter After

by Vi Keeland

“Wrapping olives.” “Uh. Why?” I reached into the plastic bag sitting on my chair and held up the item I’d bought on my lunch hour. “How do you think I should wrap these? I don’t have a box.” Devin’s bushy brows drew together. “You want to wrap men’s black socks?” I set down the scissors and folded the red-and-white candy-cane-striped wrapping paper around the can. “Well, I can’t send the olives looking festive and not the socks.”

“Who the hell is Birdie?” “She’s a little girl who wrote to the Holiday Wishes mailbox. I want to make some of her wishes come true.” “And she wished for men’s black socks and olives?” “Yep. And a special friend for her dad. Her mom died of cancer a few years ago. So sweet.” Devin frowned. “That sucks. But what’s her dad look like?” “How should I know?” She shrugged. “He’s single. And is about to have clean socks. That’s better than half the men you’ve gone out with lately already.”

Devin laughed. “She thinks Santa works like the Catholic Church. Go murder someone, and Saint Pete still opens the pearly gates. Cut off a girl’s hair and still get gifts from Santa!” I had to wipe tears from my eyes. “Maybe I should write back and tell her to sing three ‘Jingle Bells’ and two ‘Silent Nights.’”

At eleven thirty on the dot, I stood. “Let’s go, Lacey.” “Who?” “Cagney & Lacey. It was a show my mom used to watch when I was little. It had two women detectives.” “Well, which one was hotter? Maybe I don’t want to be Lacey.”

“Would you care if I checked it out, then? Armando and I have been looking for a new place to try.” “Are you going to tell your fiancé that the real reason you’re taking him there is to check out the hot owner?” She waved her hand dismissively. “He doesn’t have to know that. He loves food. He’ll be thrilled.”

“Daddy, Sadie saved Marmaduke’s life! He was choking on a ball, and she did the hymen remover.”

“I basically lied to my daughter to take away her sadness. I’ve somehow convinced myself that lying for the good of making someone happy cancels the lie out.” Wow. And that, Mr. Maxwell, is precisely why I am standing before you at this very moment.

“Don’t you have a job to do? Or coffee to mainline into your vein or something?”

“Oh. So her dad didn’t buy a wife from Russia, then? I guess that makes sense. Because if he was going to buy one, he’d probably get one his own age, right? Suzie’s stepmom is really young.” Or . . . maybe Suzie’s dad did buy his bride. Either way, this conversation had taken an odd turn.

I sighed to myself. Yeah. It’s not easy out there. But I wouldn’t mind climbing that man like a tree.

“Understood. As long as you’re happy.” I wasn’t gonna touch that comment. “Happy” wasn’t exactly the right word. Stable, maybe. Holding things together, maybe. Not burning down the house, maybe.

We walked into the house, and Marmaduke looked up. He spotted Sadie, and his tongue started to wag out of his mouth. Yeah, I know the feeling, buddy.

Maybe she could teach Duke to jump again. I bet it would be some view of her down on all fours in the getup she had on today. Another mouthful. What had she called it again? “Flunk shit.” “Flukerbutt.” “Flunkerbsht.” That was it. “Jump” was “flunkerbsht.” I started to laugh. The sound was almost maniacal. Flunkerbsht. I want to flunkerbsht the pretend dog trainer.

The redhead from Sebastian’s bed walked over and helped Birdie with her jacket. As soon as it was off her shoulders, she ran to hug me. I felt an ounce of vindication. At least Birdie liked me better.

“Amanda had a lot to do with choosing the decor. So I can’t take full credit for it.” Could you maybe learn not to mention your dead wife every time the opportunity arises?

“I don’t want a heart that isn’t available to love you to keep you from finding one that is.”

“I couldn’t focus, Sadie. The thought of you going out with another man—no less a half dozen men while speed dating—makes me feel violent.” “It was eight actually.” He scoffed. “Thanks. That makes me feel a hell of a lot better.”

Birdie went to get ready for bed. She brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas and then came back out carrying one of the bracelets she’d made. “That one came out really nice. I think it’s my favorite of the five you made. You said it’s for your best friend, right?” She nodded. “What’s her name?” Birdie held the bracelet out to me. “Her name is Sadie, silly. It’s for you.”

“Sadie Gretchen Bisset Schmidt, I freaking love you. I’ve known it for a while, but I was too chicken to admit it to myself. Yet you and my ten-year-old daughter are completely fearless with giving love.” He shook his head. “You both put me to shame. I wish I had half the balls you two do.”

“Um . . . there’s a . . . diamond . . . ring . . . in his poop!” Birdie squealed and began jumping up and down. “Yay!” Me? I literally just stood there on the sidewalk with my eyes bugging out in total disbelief. No fucking way.

“I’m part Chinese.” My smile faded as her words set in. I felt a rush of blood course throughout my body. Sebastian and I just looked at each other. And we just . . . knew. Now we knew.