Epilogue: August 14, 2047

My name is Mason Elizabeth Monroe, but everyone calls me Maisi. I have never written in a diary before, but this seems like as good a time to start one as any.

I am seventeen years old and I am madly in love.

This boy who I love is smart and kind. He has sparkling brown eyes and a wide smile. He has a wonderful sense of humor and he's always making me laugh. When I see him, my heart begins to hammer in my chest and my palms drip with sweat. I don't think he has any idea how much he means to me.

His name is Henry.

Just writing about him makes me happy. If you could see me right now, you'd see I have a huge dopey smile on my face.

I know. I'm a mess.

Evidently, a messy love life is my birthright. This was news to me, of course. Until recently, all I'd ever known was that the couples around me are all happy. My parents are madly in love. My Grandpa Miles adores his wife Mama Steph. Old John Frye is happiest when Mrs. Frye is close. The Pittmans still hold hands when they walk through the market. See what I mean?

All, I've ever known is Happily Ever After.

Just recently, I learned that some of these stories didn't start out quite so rosy and perfect as I would have expected. When Dixie and I first found the blue box wrapped with a long red ribbon, we had no idea what might be inside or why it was hidden in the back of Mom's closet. I'm pretty sure Dixie was hoping for something more exciting than books and letters when we opened it up.

Dixie is my twin sister. To say we aren't much alike would be an understatement. Well, we do look alike (with long blond curls and blue eyes), and we've been best friends our whole lives, but we couldn't be more different on the inside if we tried.

Anyway, knowing Dixie; she was hoping we'd found a stash of cigarettes or ammo.

My sister is pretty fierce and says what she thinks. Dad says I'm like my Great Grandpa Gene and Dix is just like Grandpa Miles. When Dad first compared her to Grandpa, Dixie turned to him and said, "Dad, don't be a dick." Dad and Grandpa Miles both got a big laugh out of that.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that while my sister is tough as nails; I'm softer. More of a romantic, I guess. So when I discovered that the box held a treasure trove of family lore, I was excited. Nestled in the box was my Mom's journal, my Grandmother's diary and my Great Grandmother's letters to the man she loved: my Great Grandpa Gene.

Dixie took one look at the contents of the box, rolled her eyes and left the room. She said she had better things to do than read bullshit. I'm guessing she'd have stuck around if she knew what the women in our family liked to write about, but whatever. Her loss.

I started with my Mom's journal, and at first it was a little disgusting to be honest. I adore my parents. I really do. They are amazing, but there are some things I don't like to think about them doing. At all. I did know they enjoy their 'alone time'. Hard to miss that particular fact, at least not if you live in the same house with them. Even though my Dad is kind of old, the way my Mom looks at him… well, I'm pretty sure that part of their relationship has never faded.

I never knew my Grandma, so reading her diary was a little easier – well, except for the Grandpa Miles stuff. Again, another mental image I didn't need. It's hard for me to picture him with anyone other than Mama Steph anyway. They've been together my whole life and Mama Steph is the only Grandmother I've ever known.

By the time I got to my Great Grandma's letters, I was at least mostly prepared for the references to making out in the back seat of a Cadillac and the later more intense scenarios she's detailed in her writing.

I read all of it – three generations of memoirs and letters. Some parts were sad. Other parts made me laugh till my sides ached. Some of the things I learned made my mouth drop open in shock.

They say every family has skeletons in their closet. I'm pretty sure my family has an entire cemetery shoved into ours.

It took nearly a week to get through it all. I had to be sneaky about it because I don't think Mom probably wants me to read this stuff. Also, I didn't want BJ (my little brother) finding any of it. He'd probably figure out ways to make copies and sell them. Grandpa Miles says BJ has the makings of a criminal mastermind. With our family history, I suppose that's worrisome, but mostly my little brother is okay. Just not sure I trust him with any of this.

Besides, I think I want to have a handle on all of it before I share it with anyone (if I decide to share it at all). These women who came before me all had stories to tell. Each one was vividly different, but they all share one obvious theme. They are all about love.

Great Grandma Charlotte was a sweet girl with a pure heart. She loved only one man, my Great Grandpa Gene.

Grandma Rachel's story was more complicated, but then so was she. I've heard some things about her throughout my life. Whispers mostly. I know she was a genius but a troubled one. I know that she and my Mom didn't always get along and I know that my Dad hated her. Thanks to Grandma Rachel's diary, I now also know that her heart was torn by her love for two Matheson brothers, and that this messy love triangle was always a source of uncertainty for all three of them.

Then there is my Mom's story. It's no secret that she loves my Dad. Their love is probably the most amazing, really. Even after all these years together, they are inseparable. This is in spite of the fact that my Mom slept with my older brother Connor and my Dad slept with my Grandma and also the fact that my Dad is old enough to BE my Grandpa and is best friends with the guy who IS my Grandpa… Yeah, I learned all that from what I found in the box.

Like I said – a whole lot of skeletons.

I'm choosing not to dwell on all the weird shit that's happened in my family though (and believe me, there's a ton). Instead, I choose to focus on the big picture.

Love.

If my Mom and Dad, with their twisted history, could later become a stunning example of everlasting love…well, then there's a chance for people like me too. Right?

Which brings us back to me and the boy I love. Henry is amazing. He's two years younger than me (same age as BJ) and I know you might think that's weird, but he acts older than he is. Besides, as has been established…nobody in my family cares about age. Henry's Mom is a lot older than his Dad is too, so I guess it's not that uncommon anyway. Henry and I have been friends since we were little. He lives just down the street from us with his parents. His folks and mine are long time friends.

When we were in grade school, Henry, Dix and I were always together. Mom called us the Three Musketeers. As we grew older, that never changed. Well, this last year, Dixie has pulled away from us some. I think she's figured out that I'm crazy about Henry and she wants to give us space. It might also have something to do with her wanting to spend more time with the new cook at the diner, but I like to think it's because she cares.

Dixie can be a real bitch sometimes, but when she wants to, my sister can be pretty awesome too.

Just earlier this evening, we were all at the Happy Place. Dix was at the counter, talking to the new cook. Henry and I were sitting in Dad's favorite booth (which has a whole new meaning for me now that I read Mom's journal, but I won't dwell on that now). We were playing Scrabble and talking quietly.

"You gotta see this, Mace." Henry whispered, his brown eyes sparkling. He kept glancing toward where Dixie was sitting on a barstool, her elbows propped up on the chipped Formica counter top.

"What?"

"Dix is really flirting with that guy. Pretty sure she's leaning over like she is so that he can look down her shirt."

"No way," I said with a frown, but then I remembered who we're talking about. With my sister, anything is possible. I turned to look over my shoulder, and got a swift kick under the table.

"Don't turn around like that, Captain Obvious. Just come sit by me. We can play better side by side anyway, and then we can watch discreetly."

I hesitated for just a moment and then did as Henry had suggested. Sliding into the booth next to him filled my stomach with butterflies. He's very handsome with a crooked smile and thick brown hair. He's tall and wiry. Dad says he clearly takes after his mother.

I don't care who he takes after. When he looks at me with that smile, my heart melts. So, we played Scrabble and watched Dixie make a fool out of herself. But then again, she seems to be getting what she wants, so maybe she isn't making a fool of herself after all?

We watched them for a while. From what we could tell, they have made plans for the weekend. That's all good and well, as long as she can keep it a secret from Dad and Grandpa Miles. Neither of them ever approve of the boys Dixie likes. The good news on that front is that they focus so much on her love life, they don't even think about mine.

Not that I have one, exactly. Not yet anyway.

The thing is, tonight in the diner, as time passed, something shifted. While Henry and I were playing Scrabble, we slowly edged our way closer together in the booth. I think that we were both pretending it was so we could hear each other's whispers better, but when our thighs touched, I felt a jolt of heat. I looked up to see if he'd felt it too. I'm sure that he had. His eyes were on mine and he wasn't smiling anymore. His expression was tense but also…hungry. Also, he wasn't moving his leg, but then, neither was I.

It was his turn, and he carefully placed his tiles on the spaces, spelling out the word CHEMISTRY.

When my turn came up, my choice was FATE.

Our eyes locked again and I swear time stopped. Henry leaned in just a fraction. My breath held as he moved closer still, eliminating the space between us. Under the table, his hand found mine as he moved in.

The first brush of his lips against mine felt like ice and fire all at once. I squeezed his fingers, assuring him without words that this is what I wanted.

He squeezed back.

"About damn time." Dixie's voice jolted us both back to reality. Breathing heavily, I glared at my sister. She was standing next to our table now, smirking, with one arm wrapped around the new cook's waist.

I glanced at Henry and could tell he looked as flustered as I felt. Angrily, I whirled to face my twin once more. "WHAT is about damn time?"

"You two, of course. Everyone knows you are made for each other. I'm just glad I was here to witness the moment when things finally came together." She left her man to move closer to me and dipped down to whisper in my ear. "Love you, Sis. If he hurts you, just let me know. I'll string him up by his balls and then I'll tell Dad or Grandpa Miles, or hell - both of them. They'll have a blast reliving the old days." Dixie winked at me, but by the tone of her voice I knew she was serious. In fact, I'm pretty sure she'd help the retired Generals do their thing.

Henry rolled his eyes. "I'm right here, Dixie. I can hear you."

She nodded curtly in his direction, before heading toward the door with her new guy. "That was the plan," Dixie called over her shoulder. "Treat her right, Henry Pittman. I only have the one sister."

Henry smiled at me then, but suddenly everything felt awkward. My mind was racing as I thought about the kiss. Then my mind wandered to the women in my family who had fallen in love before me. Sometimes it was smooth. Sometimes rough.

One thing I think I've learned from reading their stories…. When love knocks on your door, you kind of have to open it. You HAVE to.

I scooted closer and looked up into his eyes. "Where were we?" I whispered.

Henry leaned down to kiss me again, and this time, just before his lips touched mine, he said. "That's easy, Maisi. We're at the beginning. The future is wide open for us."

And so it is.

**END**

A/N That's it folks! I hope you enjoyed this story. It went a little long compared to most of my fics, but I did have a lot of fun with it. If you have a moment, please leave a comment. Your thoughts are always much appreciated. -Lemon