| Romance Fiction posted October 5, 2025 | Chapters: |
...35 36 -37- 38... 
|
  |
One Year Later
A chapter in the book Yesterday's Dreams
The Untold Story Epilogue
by Begin Again
The front parlor wore a new name on the bell: Jessup Investigations — Northern Branch. Lace curtains stayed because the house insisted, but everything else worked now — desks, a locked file cabinet against the wall, a small safe tucked beneath, Julia's chair by the window, and a framed training certificate beside Karen's Illinois license. Rachel's PERC card clipped neatly to an organizer that held more pens than any one office needed. It was proof that they were officially private investigators — thanks to a little extra boost from Karen's uncle — Southern Branch.
Tessa perched on the client chair with her ankles crossed, flipping through a bridal magazine. "Oh," she breathed, angling a page toward Karen. "Look at that one."
Karen leaned in. "The sleeves," she whispered, reverent. "And that neckline? It's perfect."
Rachel came out of the tiny copy room with a fresh intake sheet and stopped short. "You two are a hazard," she said, laughing. "Close it before Noah comes in."
"He'll live," Karen said. "Besides, we found the perfect dress."
Rachel looked, and for a second, the room softened around the picture. "It's beautiful," she admitted, then shook her head. "And expensive."
The bell chimed. Noah shouldered in with coffee and a paper bag. "What's expensive?"
Karen slapped the magazine shut. "Only the wild dreams of your favorite women."
"No, no," Tessa said, eyes bright. "The dress. The one that actually looks like Rachel."
"How much?" Noah asked.
Karen named the price.
He coughed on a laugh. "That is — not a small number. Considering you two just opened this business, we want to renovate upstairs, and I still run a pharmacy."
Tessa sat up, as if she'd just been hit by a bombshell. "I've got it! I sew," she said, cheeks pink. "I won a contest once. And I have friends. We could make it."
"I can't ask you to do that," Rachel said, touched and flustered at once.
"You're not asking," Tessa said. "I'm offering."
Karen nodded. "Let us do what we're good at."
Noah slid a coffee to each of them. "Sold," he said. "But I'm buying the fabric. And if anyone bleeds on lace, I'm also buying Band-Aids."
They were still laughing when the door opened again and Mrs. Lawson swept in with a pie tin and her no-nonsense smile. "If you're planning something, I expect to be useful," she said, setting the tin down. "Who's baking the cake?"
"We haven't gotten that far," Rachel said.
"I have," Mrs. Lawson said. "I'll bake. And I can find two more women who decorate like they were born with piping bags in their hands. We can string lights across the backyard and borrow tables from the church."
Karen clapped once. "I know exactly who to call."
Noah leaned his elbows on the desk, taking in the scene, equal parts amused and amazed. "At the rate you're all going, you'll have a wedding planned before Rachel even picks a date."
He glanced at the wall calendar — two Saturdays circled in blue. He reached for a red pen, thought a second, and drew a third circle.
Rachel tilted her head. "What's that?"
"The day you walked back into my life," he said simply. "A perfect day to tie the knot."
Karen and Tessa made identical quiet noises that sounded like they were pretending not to cheer.
*****
At lunch, Rachel and Bill drove the two minutes to the cemetery. The wind skimmed the grass; the sky was the soft kind that makes even old stones look kind. A simple marker sat beside Julia's —
At lunch, Rachel and Bill drove the two minutes to the cemetery. The wind skimmed the grass; the sky was the soft kind that makes even old stones look kind. A simple marker sat beside Julia's —
Anthony Delaney
Beloved friend. Loyal to the last.
They stood without speaking for a while. Rachel shifted the small spray of wildflowers until it looked right. "Bill?" she said at last.
"Mm?"
"Would you walk me down the aisle?"
He didn't answer right away. He took off his cap and cleared his throat. "I am not a man short on words," he said, voice rough, "but you caught me." He put the cap back on, eyes shining. "I'd be honored, honey."
She breathed out. "Thank you. It will mean so much to me, Noah, and I bet Mom and Anthony will be watching, too."
Bill smiled. "You know, I bet you're right."
*****
Back at the office, Karen fanned two files like cards. "Quick morning chat, then cake tasting."
"Cake tasting?" Noah echoed from the doorway.
"Yes, but work first," Karen said, solemnly. " The DA says Joe's trial is set for September. Subpoena refreshers next week. Mark's still at the state hospital, and it looks like he'll be there for a long time. He's very unstable. I'm sorry, Rach."
Rachel nodded. "It's okay. He's somewhere where he can get help. That's what matters."
"And this," Karen went on, tapping a thinner folder, "is our pro bono. Daughter thinks her mom's 'helper' is siphoning cash. No retainer, but she has receipts and a knot in her stomach."
Rachel slid the folder toward her. "I'll start. Bank records with mom's consent, a clean timeline, background on the helper, and APS ready if we confirm."
Karen gave her a look that was half partner, half friend. "You're getting very good at this."
Rachel shrugged, a little bashful. "I feel like Mrs. Lawson sometimes. We listen. We write things down. We help where we can. It matters."
The bell chimed. Their two o'clock stood in the doorway with a careful stack of papers. Rachel set a box of tissues on the client side of the desk — Noah's quiet habit — and smiled. "Come in," she said gently. "Tell us everything because we're here to help."
Karen clicked her pen, easy and sure. "And don't worry — we take turns saving the world. Occasionally, we send invoices, but more than likely, not."
The woman's laugh came out like a hiccup. Then she talked. They listened. By the time the clock over the stove chimed the hour, the folder had shape. Not a solution yet — just shape. It was enough to begin.
When the door clicked shut behind the client, Rachel's phone buzzed. She checked the caller ID and answered, a smile spreading across her face. "How nice to hear from you, Detective."
"All my pleasure," the detective said. "I just thought I'd let you know we're on track for September. Paper's solid. You can tell your neighbor and the babysitter that ordinary people doing hard things carry more weight than they think."
"I will," she said. "Thank you."
Runyard cleared his throat. "No problem, but if you really want to thank me, how about dinner tonight?"
Karen compressed her eagerness as well as she could. "Dinner? Let me see if I'm free." She rustled some papers while Tessa and Rachel leaned closer, squeezing her arm. Finally, in her sweetest voice, she answered, "Looks like you might be in luck, Detective."
"Great! I'll pick you up at 7." He paused and then chuckled, "Tell your friends to work on their surveillance techniques. I could hear their breathing." He hung up the phone.
Mrs. Lawson reappeared as the girls giggled like schoolgirls, her pie tin replaced by a notepad. "We're set for three cake trials," she announced. "Vanilla with lemon curd, chocolate with espresso, and carrot with cream cheese."
"Research," Karen repeated, still glowing from the phone call. "Critical."
Tessa flipped the magazine back open, but this time she was sketching — sleeves, a neckline, a train that didn't trip anyone. "If we keep the lines clean, it'll look like the one you loved," she said to Rachel.
"Thank you, Tess. I'm sure it will be wonderful."
*****
Evening found Noah and Rachel on the front porch, sipping from two mugs and basking in the last of the light. Ashland Avenue sounded like itself again — screen doors slammed, a dog barked, and someone calling a child in for dinner. Behind them, the parlor glowed softly through lace curtains.
Noah leaned back in his chair, watching the last streaks of sunset fade. "We've come a long way from where this all started."
Rachel smiled. "We really have. The house feels different now. Like it finally remembers what peace is."
"Maybe because you do," he said, reaching across and brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
Her pulse caught, gentle but certain. "Maybe."
The quiet between them was easy, filled with the rustle of leaves and the hum of evening. Rachel's eyes lifted toward the window, where the wall calendar still hung — two blue Saturdays circled neatly, and one red ring marking the day she came home.
He followed her gaze and smiled. "Pick the date when you're ready," he said softly. "Though I admit — I already know which one I'm hoping for."
Rachel laughed under her breath. "You're impatient."
"Persistent," he corrected, and before she could reply, he leaned in and kissed her. The world seemed to hush — the porch, the street, even the air held its breath.
When he drew back, she stayed close, her breath catching. "You kiss me like that again," she whispered, teasing but tender, "and I might say let's get married tomorrow."
Noah's smile deepened, eyes warm. "Really?"
"Really."
He kissed her once more, slower this time, as the porch light flickered on. "Tomorrow it is," he said against her lips.
She kissed him and smiled, "Can we give Tessa time to finish my dress?"
Down the block, a church bell rang — a comforting sound in a world finally at peace.
 Recognized |
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2025. Begin Again All rights reserved.
Begin Again has granted FanStory, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
