Epilogue: Emma

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Life got really busy and drove me crazy for a few weeks, but I finally got around to writing the epilogue. Haven't edited it or even proofread it, so bear with me.

This chapter is in honor of my junior Prom tonight. Enjoy!

***

Kidnap My Heart

Epilogue: Emma

Two Weeks Later

o   Dress: Check.

o   Shoes: Check.

o   Makeup: Check.

o   Hair: Check.

o   Nails: Check.

o   Jewelry: Check.

o   Boutonniere: Check.

o   Limo: Check.

o   Date: On the way. Almost check.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Will would be here in about five minutes, maybe less. I wanted to be the one who opened the door for him, so I stood up, checked my appearance one last time, and walked towards the door.

I stopped in my tracks when the door opened; it was my mom.  She warily stood in the doorway for a few seconds before walking in. “Hey, Em,” she finally said, clasping her hands together in front of her. She looked impeccable, as usual. Navy-blue suit, flawless makeup, gorgeous shoes, and perfectly wavy hair—and this was at the end of the day.

“Hey,” I said. “I was just about to head down.”

“Is Aaron on his way?” she asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Aaron? I’m not going with Aaron. I thought I told you that last week.” I was 99.9% sure I had told her that last week. The subject of Prom had briefly come up over dinner one day—the day after the cat onesie “incident”— and my mother had assumed I was going with Aaron when she started talking about it.

I had told her I wasn’t going with him, and she had just finished asking me who I was going with when her phone rang. She left the table to take a business call, and the subject didn’t come up again until I tried bringing it back up. My parents oh-so-tastefully avoided the subject the moment it was suggested Will wasn’t someone they would know. Well, they wouldn’t be able to avoid the subject forever because the subject himself was about to arrive, and there was nothing they could do about it.

“You also went to the mall in cat pajamas,” she pointed out. Her face was blank, but I had a feeling it was taking everything she had to keep it that way. “It’s clear you weren’t thinking straight that weekend. Your behavior has been so unlike you these past couple of weeks. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I know you went through something very difficult, but that doesn’t excuse misbehavior. Aaron would have made a lovely date, and we don’t know anything about this supposed date of yours.”

“You don’t know anything about him because you avoided the subject every time I tried to bring it up,” I pointed out. “I’ve tried to talk to you about it. I’ve tried to explain where I’ve been going after school for the past two weeks and who I asked to Prom, but you’ve completely changed the subject every time. You can’t blame me for that.”

“Well, your father and I assumed you would get the hint and make the right choice, but it seems you haven’t,” she said after briefly hesitating. “You’ve always made the right choice.”

“The right choice?” I asked. “You mean Aaron?”

She shook her head. “You know we like Aaron, but it doesn’t have to be Aaron, necessarily. I understand if you can’t see him as more than a friend. I was in the same position when I was your age. I had a wonderful friend in a boy named Samuel, but that was all he had ever been to me.”

I nearly scoffed. “And what did you end up doing when you were my age?”

“I did what my parents advised, of course,” she said.

She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. To her, it was. It had been to me, as well, for a long time, but things had changed. I had changed. Will had stormed into my life and changed everything, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I wasn’t going to go back to my narrow-minded ways.

When I didn’t say anything, she continued. “My parents introduced me to several nice young men that I knew I could come to see as more than a friend, unlike Samuel. I met your father this way, through your grandparents. Your father and I can do the same for you when you’re ready. In fact, several of my friends’ sons offered to take you to your Prom if you needed a date and still wanted to go, but you didn’t give any of them a chance. They’re wonderful young men, Emma. I’ve met all of them, and any of them would make a good match for you. I’m sure we could still get one of them to take you if we were to call right now. You can still change your mind.”

“Why would I want another date?” I asked incredulously. “I have a date on the way, remember? His name is Will. You may have thought you were being super sneaky by changing the subject every time I tried to talk about him, but you weren’t. I’m not stupid. I know why you don’t even want to talk about him. I know why you all of a sudden don’t approve of my friendship with Taylor. The minute you found out she was dating someone with no money, you shut her out.”

“Now, that’s not true,” she said, and she actually looked offended. “I’ve known Taylor for years. She’s a good girl. She’s just going through a phase right now. Soon, she’ll realize that boyfriend of hers isn’t the permanent kind.”

I wasn’t going to lie. Her words hit a little too close to home. I was Taylor. I was dating someone with no money. I was “going through a phase.” We were in the exact same position. Anything she said about Taylor applied to me, too, and I couldn’t stand there and listen to it.

“And what if he is?” I said. “What if you’re wrong? What if there’s more to life than money, and you’re too closed-minded and shallow and selfish to see it? You know Taylor’s boyfriend? I’m dating his brother. And I almost screwed it up with him because of the crap you and Dad ingrained in my mind from a young age. I was horrible to him. I told him he was someone I could never be with in public because he had nothing to offer me.”

“You told him the truth,” she exclaimed. Her voice had risen to the same level mine had. “You didn’t give him false hope. You did the right thing. When we tell you these things, it’s because we want the best possible future for you.”

“You’re missing the entire point,” I yelled, completely frustrated by her lack of understanding. Why did she have to have such a thick skull? “You say you want the best possible future for me, but all you really want is for me to find a rich guy who can pay for anything I could possibly want. But guess what? Clothes and jewelry and cars don’t make you happy. You can’t buy happiness. You know when I’m the happiest? When I’m with Will. These past two weeks have been the best weeks of my life because I don’t have to pretend or hide or lie anymore. Getting kidnapped put things into perspective for me, and when I came back, I made things right with Will. Don’t you get it? I broke his heart because of the crap you force-fed me when I was growing up. Money this, money that. Power this, power that. But I don’t need money to be happy. All I need is the people I love, and I love Will.”

“You don’t love him,” my mom said forcefully. “You barely know him. You never even mentioned him to us until now. How can you say it’s love?”

“And whose fault is that? What do you really know about me, Mom? What does Dad really know about me?” I shook my head. “Aren’t you ashamed that your narrow-minded teachings turned me into someone who values materialism over everything else? Aren’t you ashamed that you’re trying to turn me back into that person?”

The doorbell rang downstairs, cutting through the thick tension, and I glanced at the door, desperate to escape this horrible conversation and get to Will. But I had to finish it out. “You’re not going to turn me back into the spoiled, materialistic rich girl I was before. I don’t want to be her ever again. She was miserable, selfish and bratty. I know I’m a better person now, whether or not you agree. And I’m going to go to Prom with my penniless boyfriend, and I’m going to go to the state college I applied to in the fall, and I’m going to be happy with Will, with or without your help.”

Silence. And then, my mom shook her head and covered her face with one hand before eventually speaking. “When did everything change? When did you grow up?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think you were here long enough to notice.”

She removed her hand from her face and enveloped me in a hug. I didn’t move at first, too surprised to even fidget, but once I recovered, I put my arms around my mom. “We’ll get through this. We’ll figure things out,” she said. I wasn’t sure whether or not figuring things out meant accepting Will, but I wasn’t going to ask. We would cross that bridge when we came to it.

“Okay. Let’s go downstairs.”

***

The first thing I heard when I started making my way downstairs was, “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Uh-oh. My dad was home, and he had beaten me to the door. If my mom hadn’t picked this moment to fight about Prom with me, I would’ve opened the door and maybe saved him from another round of uncomfortable questions. I was sure Jack had gotten to him a second time before this, but now it was my dad’s turn.

The second thing I heard was Will’s answer. “I just want to make her happy.”

It sounded like they were in the living room. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped to listen to their conversation. I was nosy; sue me.

“What are your plans for the future?”

Will sounded nervous when he answered. I didn’t blame him. He knew perfectly well that his plans likely wouldn’t be up to par in my dad’s eyes. “Finish college, find a good job, work my way up, and marry Rage. I mean, Emma.”

“Why do you call my daughter Rage?”

“Because when we first met, we made each other angry,” Will said.

Couldn’t argue with that. We’d made each other really angry.

“Where did you first meet?”

And that was my cue to make my way into the living room and interrupt. Will and I had thought of a story to replace the truth, but I was a better liar than Will. I would tell the story when the time came. “Hey, guys.”

Both my dad and Will immediately looked over at me. My dad smiled, and Will just sat there and stared at me. “Holy shit. I mean, shoot. I mean—never mind.”

I stifled a chuckle and simply stood there instead, holding the boutonniere in my hands. I loved the dress and felt great in it, but Will’s reaction to me in the dress set an indescribable feeling off in my veins. It was a red, floor-length dress made out of an expensive but gorgeous silk material, and it had an open back. The straps crossed at the back, leaving a big, diamond shaped area of skin uncovered above the small of my back. It had sparkly silver adornments on the straps and at the small of my back, and it was, all in all, the prettiest thing I’d ever worn.

I watched Will as he smoothly stood and walked over to me. His smooth movements always surprised me. You would expect someone so tall to be a little gangly, at least, like Aaron, but not Will. He was smooth in every sense of the word, and in the formal suit he was wearing—courtesy of yours truly— his smoothness was off the charts. Will was the kind of guy who would look attractive in anything, but you put him in a suit and he became an even bigger panty-dropper.

“Hey,” I said once I was done shamelessly checking him out. “You ready to go?”

He nodded, half of his mouth turned upwards. “I’m ready if you are. You look gorgeous, Rage. You always do, but… you’re stunning in that dress. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. I wasn’t going to push it with my parents around. “You’re the best boyfriend, too.”

He grinned and reached behind him, picking up a small, clear box. “Your corsage, my lady,” he said with a joking bow.

“Your boutonniere, my lord,” I said, holding out the small flower and playing along.

“What the hell is a boutonniere?” he asked.

“This flower thing,” I said, holding the boutonniere out. “Obviously. Haven’t you ever gone to Prom?”

“I didn’t know that thing had a name,” he said, watching me as I pinned it to his suit jacket. He put the corsage around my wrist when he was done, and we didn’t even notice Jack had been taking pictures in the corner until we were both done.

“Uh… Jack?” I asked.

He lowered the pricy Nikon camera and said, “You always want pictures. If your parents aren’t going to take any, I will.  Now smile.” Snap. He looked down at the camera and then looked accusingly at Will. “You blinked.”

“I’m sorry?” Will’s apology sounded more like a question than an apology, but it was still technically an apology.

“Another. Don’t move or blink or breathe,” he said, lifting the camera again.

Sometimes Jack took his job of watching out for me a little too seriously. It kind of made up for the whole kidnapping fiasco.

***

“Why are people staring?” Will whispered to me over dinner. Our Prom ticket covered entrance and dinner, and the food was surprisingly good. The music was low during dinner, allowing us to talk and eat before the dancing began. The moment Will and I walked in with Taylor and Eric, people started staring, and they still hadn’t stopped. “I’m wearing a fucking designer suit, for God’s sake.”

“Trust me. That’s not judgmental staring,” I said, glancing around at the girls who were still staring at him. “That’s I-hate-that-you’re-taken staring and I-still-want-to-screw-your-brains-out staring and I’m-an-easy-whore-take-me staring.”

He smirked over at me. “You jealous, Rage?”

I scoffed. “Oh, please. Me, jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you don’t want other girls undressing Will with their eyes,” Taylor piped up before stuffing a piece of lettuce in her mouth. She’d lost some of her manners thanks to Eric, but at least she didn’t talk with a full mouth like he did. She waited until she had swallowed to talk. “They’re trying to have eye sex with him, but it’s not working.”

“Of course I don’t want other girls undressing him with their eyes,” I exclaimed. “I don’t want other girls undressing him with anything in any way. That’s my job.”

Will chuckled and put an arm around me. “Trust me. That job is reserved for you, whenever you want. You know that already.”

“And I’m the only one who can have eye sex with you,” I continued, crossing my arms over my chest.

He leaned in and kissed me on the lips before saying, “You can have any kind of sex with me, free of charge. Prom special.”

I laughed. “Are you saying there’s a charge if I wait until tomorrow?”

“Yes. You’ll like the charge though,” he said with that half-smile of his. “Promise.”

“No wonder my parents were so wary about you being my Prom date,” I said. This wasn’t why, of course, but if they knew about it, it certainly wouldn’t help.

“Hey, I’m a great Prom date,” he said defensively. “Just you wait. We’re gonna try the stupid Bernie thing again, and you know what? I might even twerk.”

“Please don’t.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t twerk.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Last time you tried to twerk, you fell and almost crushed me.”

“I’ll just do it standing up, then.”

“Please don’t.”

“Will I embarrass you?” He grinned.

I looked at him again. “Yes.”

“Good.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“I know. But you love me anyways,” he said, leaning in again to kiss me. We were kind of big on PDA. We couldn’t help it. “I’m your pain in the ass. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

“Luckily for you, I’m a sadistic girl who happens to like her pain in the ass,” I said, uncrossing my arms and putting them around Will instead.

Will may have been a pain in the ass 97% of the time, but I loved him just the way he was, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. He was a pain in the ass I didn’t want to get rid of, one I would fight until the very end for. If I had to give everything up to be with him, then so be it. Will said his mom had once told him that when he found the real thing, he would know. She had said, “That’s the thing about true love. It hits you, and there’s no denying it.”

The other thing about true love? It was worth holding onto, even if everyone and everything was trying to get you to let go. I wasn’t going to let go.

***

Fifty Years Later

“Shh,” I whispered, placing a finger to my lips. The youngest of my grandchildren, six year-old Ashton, was the easiest to placate. The others that were standing with me were not. Seven-year-old Emily was jumping up and down, the nine-year-old twins were fighting over who was being quieter, eleven-year-old Brady was creeping dangerously close to the scene of the crime, and thirteen year old Liz was unsuccessfully trying to hide her laughter. Even the oldest of my grandchildren were standing behind me covering their mouths and shaking silently. My eighteen-year-old granddaughter, Ally, was just like me, actually, even going so far as to help me pull the perfect Halloween prank.

“Is he in the kitchen?” Emily whispered loudly.

“Yes,” I answered in a quieter voice, hoping she would lower hers, as well. After raising three children and taking care of all nine of my grandchildren, I had a good idea about what to expect from children, especially the ones I was related to. “Now, we have to be quiet or we’ll miss the best part.”

“What’s the best part?” she asked in the same volume.

Footsteps were heard making their way into the kitchen, and a devious smile slipped onto my face. Even at seventy-two, his footsteps were still loud, heavy, and a complete give-away that it was him that was walking in. “This part,” I said.

“Ahh, you left me some caramel apples, Rage?” Will called out from inside the kitchen. We were standing in the room nearest the kitchen—far enough to avoid detection, near enough to hear everything he said and did.

I motioned for my grandchildren to be quiet again, and Will received no answer.

“Well,” he said. “Don’t mind if I do.” Crunch.

And then I heard it: the sweet sound of my husband’s angry cries. Halloween at our house is known for its hazardous ways. Luckily for me, onions and apples just so happened to be the exact same size. What is the difference between caramel onions and caramel apples? Nothing, as far as Will’s eyesight is concerned.

It wasn’t a rarity for me to make Will food—I had found myself forced to learn many years ago—and I didn’t consistently pull food-related pranks. It allowed moments like this to be a nice surprise.

As I suppressed my laughter along with my grandchildren, I listened closely for his voice. It was the voice I heard every morning and every night, the same voice I fell in love with when I was eighteen fifty years ago. Maybe he didn’t sound quite the same as he did when he was twenty-two, but after fifty years together, I would have recognized any of the stages of his voice anywhere, provided my memory did not fail me. It was the voice that was angrily screaming, “Damn it, Rage!”

“That’s for making me sit through twelve hours of wrestling yesterday,” I yelled triumphantly, making the little people who surrounded me burst into giggles.

“I told you already, I lost the remote!” he yelled back, and I could hear him spitting into the sink afterwards. “Blech!”

“You hid the remote, you liar,” I accused in an equally loud voice.

“Don’t lie, Rage, you like watching sweaty men wrestle,” he exclaimed before spitting again. “I know you.”

“Those men had moobs,” I said. My voice reverted back to its normal volume when Will stomped over and stood in front of me.

More giggles were heard behind me and he narrowed his eyes at me and spluttered, “You have moobs.”

“No, I have breasts that no longer stay up on their own. You have moobs.”

“You know what I have?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Not the defined, tanned chest he had when I first met him, but I loved him just the same. I no longer had the same breasts I had before, either, and he loved me just the same. “A diabolical plan formulating in my head. Alright, who’s going to be on the winning side, on grandpa’s side, and who’s going to side with the one who uses words like moobs?”

“Yeah? Well, who’s going to side with the one who has moobs?”

“Okay, girls against boys!” Will exclaimed. “All or nothing! Who’s in?”

Every single one of our grandchildren raised their hands immediately. We had taught them so well.

“Wait, this isn’t fair. You have five people and you have Ally,” Will protested all of a sudden.

“I’m not the one who decided to do it this way,” I said.

“But—”

“Team, assemble!” I cried, urging the girls to join me. “Let’s make a game plan.”

“We need to even out the playing board,” Will insisted.

“I thought you said you were the man of the house and what you said went.”

He paused, considering my words.

I smiled. “I thought so, Squilliam. Let’s go, girls. Let’s crush the men.”

Will groaned. “Damn it, Rage.”

“Love you, too,” I called out, leading my small army to another room.

Some things like aging were inescapable changes. Some things like growing up were optional. And some things, like our relationship—they just never changed.