“I can see that you love it here, and it’s starting to grow on me too. I know that you also want to be with your grandmother now that she doesn’t have much time. Family is important, and I don’t want to take you away from yours, seeing that you’re just building a relationship with them after all these years.”
“But what about my teaching job back in San Fran?”
“You can apply for one here, or I don’t know, maybe you can spend time focusing on your art,” he suggested.
“What about your mom?” Rory asked softly.
“What about my mom?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
Rory gave him a deadpan look.
James released a sigh of frustration. “Ro, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks— not my mother, not yours or anyone else. As long as we’re happy.”
Rory nodded her head. “You’re right,” she acquitted.
“Then say it with me,” he instructed.
“No—”
“No…”
"One else matters."
Rory reached over to plant an endearing kiss against his lips. "I love you," she repeated.
"I can't wait to start the rest of our lives together," he breathed out.
She reached over to join their lips together once more. She jumped back in surprise when a single snowflake landed on her cheek before sliding down, leaving a trail of moisture as it slipped to the ground. She and James looked up simultaneously as dozens of snowflakes fluttered down toward them.
Epilogue
“Sit still, Rory. You’re too jittery.”
How could she not be? She was getting to marry the man of her dreams. Knowing that James would be waiting at the altar for her filled her stomach with knots but the good kind. While her bridesmaids fussed around her, she was lost in her own world.
“Rory?”
Rory looked into the mirror to see her mother standing behind her, wearing a bright watery smile. Indicating to the makeup artist that she needed a minute, she got up from the chaise.
Andrea’s hands covered her mouth as she stared proudly at her daughter.
“You look…beautiful,” she expressed in awe.
Her heart swelled, and a bright smile broke out on her lips at her mother’s appreciation. “You sure it’s not just the dress?” she asked jokingly, holding it up at the sides.
“I’m sure,” Andrea replied seriously. Walking over to her, she placed a hand against her cheek. “It doesn’t matter what you wear, Rory. You will always be beautiful to me, inside and out.”
Tears pooled in the corners of Rory’s eyes. “I love you, Mom…so much,” she spoke with feeling.
Andrea squeezed her cheek lovingly. “I brought something for you,” she said, bringing out a jewelry box. “Your something old.”
Rory reached for the box and carefully flipped the lid open. A gasp of surprise and wonder escaped her lips. “Mom, it’s beautiful,” she said, looking from the string of pearls to her mother.
“It was mom’s. She got it from her mother, who got it from her mother,” Andrea revealed. She reached for the pearls, and Rory turned her back, allowing her to secure it around her neck.
The two women stared at their reflections in the mirror, their eyes pooling with unshed, happy tears.
“Perfect,” Andrea breathed out. Rory wasn’t sure if it was the jewelry dangling from her neck or her that her mother was referring to, but, at that moment, it made her feel special and important. She reached up to rub the hand holding her shoulder in a loving manner.
