Gretchen’s “plan B” has been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. In the dark moments when I doubt myself—not just my ability to win the competition, but my ability to manage this entire bookstore if I do.

Gretchen: And…

So many ands: And Lawsons aren’t quitters. And Boston is my home. And Happy Endings isn’t just a bookstore that could be replaced or replicated. And…

I’m not ready to throw in the towel yet.

Gretchen: Fair. Don’t hate me if I check in again in a few weeks. You’re a hot commodity. xx

Before I have a chance to reply, another text comes in. This one is from Eva: they just got off the T and are on their way to “pick up a book” they preordered.

“They’re almost here!” I call out, and everyone hides.

“Hi, ladies,” I say when they walk in a few minutes later.

“I hear you’ve got bookmail for us,” Barb says.

Behind her, Eva catches my eye and grins—she’s curled her hair and is wearing a dress for the first time I can remember.

“The new Casey McQuiston,” I say, trying to tamp down my smile. “It’s in the back. And, Barb—there’s a new collection of poetry over there I think you might like.”

“Ooh!” Barb heads to the front of the store, unaware that a photographer friend is standing outside, ready to snap photos through the window.

I give Eva a good luck squeeze on the shoulder, then join Cinderella and Indira behind the Hot Priest/Rabbi shelf.

We hear Barb’s voice: “What in the—?”

And I know she’s turned to find Eva down on one knee.

“Barbie, my love,” Eva says, clearing her throat. “I haven’t stopped loving you since the day we met sixty years ago. I don’t regret the years we spent apart; they gave us our beautiful children…But now…now…I don’t want to go another minute without making our love official. I want to be your wife, and I want you to be mine. Will you marry me?”

I peek around the bookshelf to see Barb, now also down on her knees, kissing Eva as tears spill down their cheeks.

Tears fill my eyes, too, as I’m pulled back to a memory I’m usually able to suppress. Having grown up under the shadow of my parents’ love story, I went through high school and college with my eyes and my heart open, waiting for my own lightning-strike moment when I’d meet someone and know she was the one. It finally came on the day I moved into the dorms sophomore year.

Or so I thought.