I had a lot of help. So now it’s my turn to pay it back. I took all that money that Vaughn was putting in my bank account and gave it to the charity that was helping Rosa.
And then I decided to start a new non-profit. One that will teach inner-city girls to defend themselves if they are ever attacked. No one should have to go through what I did. No girl should ever feel helpless. They may not be able to win all the battles they will fight, but they need to have a fair chance.
That’s the mark I want to make on this world. To help people have a fair chance.
I think I’m over the past now. I think it’s time to let it go. And that’s why I’m sitting outside my Aunt Rachel’s house in northeastern Colorado.
I turn the car off and wait. It doesn’t take long before the curtain is parted and I see her sour face peering out at me. I don’t want to go inside. I want her to come to me. And if I have to sit here all day, I will.
It takes her twelve minutes, but she finally emerges from the front door.
I get out of the car and clutch my winter coat tightly around me as the cruel prairie wind whips past my face.
“What do you want?” she calls out as she steps down off the front stoop. “I told you to stay away from us.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope. “I just wanted to give this to you.”
She takes a few steps forward. “What is it? Court papers?”
“No.” I shake my head at her. “Open it.”
She eyes me suspiciously, but she stretches out her hand and I place it in her palm. Her wary look never falters, even as she opens the envelope, removes the papers, and reads them.
“Why?” she finally asks.
“Because…” I take a deep breath. “Because I’m not Daisy Bryndle. I’m Grace Kinsella Asher. And that farm does not belong to me.”
She stares at me, but her frown never wavers. “You want me to say thank you?”
“No.” I shake my head again. “I just want to give that to you and say goodbye.” And then I turn and walk the few paces to my rental car and get back inside.
She watches me back out of the driveway, but she never lifts her hand to wave.
I’m not sure why she blames me for what happened. I was a child and did the best I could. But it’s not worth my time to even worry about it anymore.
Let her have the farm. I don’t want it and hopefully this gesture will help her move on as well.
No one should spend so many years being so miserable.
Epilogue
#PerfectionComesInManyPackages
ONE WEEK LATER
“I’M home!” I call out as I enter the house. “Vaughn?” His car is in the garage. I know he’s here, but the house is almost dark. And too quiet for someone to be here. It feels… empty. I make my way to the kitchen and set down the bags of groceries. “Vaughn?” I try again.
That’s when I notice the note on the fridge. Only the light over the oven is on, so I can’t make out what it says from here.
I sigh. “It’s Christmas Eve, for fuck’s sake.” The movie was supposed to wrap last week, but they’re behind schedule. I didn’t figure they’d be this behind though. I’ve kept myself busy with work all week to keep my mind off our upcoming vacation to Saint Thomas, but the truth is, I’m so excited I can’t stand it.
I put the groceries away and then grab the note and turn on the overhead light.
Good evening, sweets!
I smile so hard at that. God, I love him.
I got home early, so I decided to go on ahead and start our vacation without you. Don’t worry, there’s a driver waiting for you outside.
I run over to the front door and peek out. Sure enough, there’s headlights shining in at me. I look back down at the note, biting my lip to stop the smile. What is he up to?
He will take you to the plane and I’ll see you in a few hours.
Love, Asher
Fucking Asher.
P.S. I have picked out your clothes. They’re in a box on the bed.
Hmmm. I run to the bedroom and see the box. It’s just like the one he sent me on Saint Thomas. I’m so excited to go back there and relive our first date. I chuckle a little at that.
I want to do all of it. The beach. The forest. The restaurant—minus the parents, of course. They won’t be there. And the fun spanking I never got. I’m so excited!
I pull on the black ribbon wrapped around the shiny white box and it dissolves into a puddle of satin. I lift off the lid and the paper inside makes a little whooshing sound.
Inside is… not what I expected. It’s the blue dress I wore to Kristi’s rehearsal dinner in Vegas. I lift up another layer of paper and find my crappy Target shoes. What the hell?
My cell phone rings in the other room, so I get up and race into the kitchen to catch the call. Vaughn. “My prince?” I ask the phone.
“The one and only,” he says back. “Did you find my gift?”
“I did. But it was not what I was expecting.”
“Hmmm. You need to trust me. Don’t pack anything, it’s all taken care of. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
And then he hangs up.
“More like a shitload of hours,” I tell the silent phone. I pout a little, unhappy that I have to travel all the way to Saint Thomas alone. But I don’t want to spoil his preparations, so I put the dress on and manage to drag the zipper up after contorting myself into a pretzel.
I slip into my heels and grab my purse.
The driver takes me to the jet and I wonder, if I’m on the jet, how did Vaughn get to the island? But I don’t ponder too much. I’m tired from work, and there’s champagne chilling in the bucket next to the seat I like to sit in when we travel.
The staff pours me a drink and offers me food once we take flight.
I accept it gladly. Because I’m starved. And then, after about thirty minutes, I kick my shoes off and settle under a blanket to sleep away the long flight.
“MRS. Asher,” the attendant says, shaking my shoulder gently. “We’re here, ma’am.”
“What?” I ask, sitting up. “But we just took off.”
“Yes, ma’am. Las Vegas is a very short flight.”
“Las Vegas? But I thought we were going to Saint Thomas?”
“No, ma’am. That’s tomorrow night. Tonight you’re staying at the Bellagio with Mr. Asher. He’s already there. Your concierge is waiting for you in the limo outside.”
And then I decided to start a new non-profit. One that will teach inner-city girls to defend themselves if they are ever attacked. No one should have to go through what I did. No girl should ever feel helpless. They may not be able to win all the battles they will fight, but they need to have a fair chance.
That’s the mark I want to make on this world. To help people have a fair chance.
I think I’m over the past now. I think it’s time to let it go. And that’s why I’m sitting outside my Aunt Rachel’s house in northeastern Colorado.
I turn the car off and wait. It doesn’t take long before the curtain is parted and I see her sour face peering out at me. I don’t want to go inside. I want her to come to me. And if I have to sit here all day, I will.
It takes her twelve minutes, but she finally emerges from the front door.
I get out of the car and clutch my winter coat tightly around me as the cruel prairie wind whips past my face.
“What do you want?” she calls out as she steps down off the front stoop. “I told you to stay away from us.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope. “I just wanted to give this to you.”
She takes a few steps forward. “What is it? Court papers?”
“No.” I shake my head at her. “Open it.”
She eyes me suspiciously, but she stretches out her hand and I place it in her palm. Her wary look never falters, even as she opens the envelope, removes the papers, and reads them.
“Why?” she finally asks.
“Because…” I take a deep breath. “Because I’m not Daisy Bryndle. I’m Grace Kinsella Asher. And that farm does not belong to me.”
She stares at me, but her frown never wavers. “You want me to say thank you?”
“No.” I shake my head again. “I just want to give that to you and say goodbye.” And then I turn and walk the few paces to my rental car and get back inside.
She watches me back out of the driveway, but she never lifts her hand to wave.
I’m not sure why she blames me for what happened. I was a child and did the best I could. But it’s not worth my time to even worry about it anymore.
Let her have the farm. I don’t want it and hopefully this gesture will help her move on as well.
No one should spend so many years being so miserable.
Epilogue
#PerfectionComesInManyPackages
ONE WEEK LATER
“I’M home!” I call out as I enter the house. “Vaughn?” His car is in the garage. I know he’s here, but the house is almost dark. And too quiet for someone to be here. It feels… empty. I make my way to the kitchen and set down the bags of groceries. “Vaughn?” I try again.
That’s when I notice the note on the fridge. Only the light over the oven is on, so I can’t make out what it says from here.
I sigh. “It’s Christmas Eve, for fuck’s sake.” The movie was supposed to wrap last week, but they’re behind schedule. I didn’t figure they’d be this behind though. I’ve kept myself busy with work all week to keep my mind off our upcoming vacation to Saint Thomas, but the truth is, I’m so excited I can’t stand it.
I put the groceries away and then grab the note and turn on the overhead light.
Good evening, sweets!
I smile so hard at that. God, I love him.
I got home early, so I decided to go on ahead and start our vacation without you. Don’t worry, there’s a driver waiting for you outside.
I run over to the front door and peek out. Sure enough, there’s headlights shining in at me. I look back down at the note, biting my lip to stop the smile. What is he up to?
He will take you to the plane and I’ll see you in a few hours.
Love, Asher
Fucking Asher.
P.S. I have picked out your clothes. They’re in a box on the bed.
Hmmm. I run to the bedroom and see the box. It’s just like the one he sent me on Saint Thomas. I’m so excited to go back there and relive our first date. I chuckle a little at that.
I want to do all of it. The beach. The forest. The restaurant—minus the parents, of course. They won’t be there. And the fun spanking I never got. I’m so excited!
I pull on the black ribbon wrapped around the shiny white box and it dissolves into a puddle of satin. I lift off the lid and the paper inside makes a little whooshing sound.
Inside is… not what I expected. It’s the blue dress I wore to Kristi’s rehearsal dinner in Vegas. I lift up another layer of paper and find my crappy Target shoes. What the hell?
My cell phone rings in the other room, so I get up and race into the kitchen to catch the call. Vaughn. “My prince?” I ask the phone.
“The one and only,” he says back. “Did you find my gift?”
“I did. But it was not what I was expecting.”
“Hmmm. You need to trust me. Don’t pack anything, it’s all taken care of. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
And then he hangs up.
“More like a shitload of hours,” I tell the silent phone. I pout a little, unhappy that I have to travel all the way to Saint Thomas alone. But I don’t want to spoil his preparations, so I put the dress on and manage to drag the zipper up after contorting myself into a pretzel.
I slip into my heels and grab my purse.
The driver takes me to the jet and I wonder, if I’m on the jet, how did Vaughn get to the island? But I don’t ponder too much. I’m tired from work, and there’s champagne chilling in the bucket next to the seat I like to sit in when we travel.
The staff pours me a drink and offers me food once we take flight.
I accept it gladly. Because I’m starved. And then, after about thirty minutes, I kick my shoes off and settle under a blanket to sleep away the long flight.
“MRS. Asher,” the attendant says, shaking my shoulder gently. “We’re here, ma’am.”
“What?” I ask, sitting up. “But we just took off.”
“Yes, ma’am. Las Vegas is a very short flight.”
“Las Vegas? But I thought we were going to Saint Thomas?”
“No, ma’am. That’s tomorrow night. Tonight you’re staying at the Bellagio with Mr. Asher. He’s already there. Your concierge is waiting for you in the limo outside.”
