Epilogue: My Feisty Valentine

A Year and a Half Later

Lalo was sitting on the floor at Geraldine’s Books, surrounded by a piles and piles of science fiction books. The new manga section of the store had already been organized, because Valentine had opted to stay up all night rather than let any of the volumes sit out for too long. He could be obsessive like that. It had led to one of their biggest fights, but that had been nothing compared to the arguments Lalo remembered from his marriage. He and Valentine were just too committed to talking things out, and though sometimes the directness could cause hurt feelings, at least they were never intentionally cruel to each other.

It had been six months since Aunt Geraldine had officially handed over the keys, surprising them completely when she announced that she and Hank wanted to retire from the bookshop life. The only stipulations were as follows: they had to keep the name (which was fine, Lalo would have wanted to honor her that way, anyway), he was not to permit Valentine to take over the entire store with his “picture books” (which Lalo was fairly certain was just a joke), and they had to commit to building up an extensive science fiction collection. They were in the middle of reorganizing everything now, having just finished the exhausting process of selling off seventy-five percent of the inventory, just like she had always wanted to do.

His phone buzzed, and he picked it up from the floor. Nearby, their giant calico cat, Periwinkle, lifted her multicolored head, tail twitching at the obnoxious disruption to her slumber. Lalo unlocked his phone and opened the message from Valentine.

What kind of tea do you want? We have green, English Breakfast, Earl Grey, and some cinnamon stuff.

Lalo leaned back, craning his neck. In this position, he could easily look up the staircase that led to their apartment.

“How about Earl GAY?” he yelled.

There was a clatter from upstairs, and his phone vibrated a moment later with another text.

  💀💀💀 You’re SO LOUD.

“You like it when I’m loud!” Lalo called up the steps.

The next text message came through almost instantaneously.

INAPPROPRIATE.

Lalo laughed to himself and texted back. Want me to come up and help?

No. You need to take a break.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Lalo said.

Nevertheless, Valentine was right. He did need a break. He groaned as his pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his worn pair of skinny jeans, which fit him very differently these days. He didn’t like wearing his newer clothes when he was moving stuff around the bookstore, so he usually dressed in the remaining scraps that he’d kept from his pre-transition days. He didn’t mind Valentine seeing him that way. His boyfriend was one of the few people in his life who could see him for who he truly was, no matter how he presented himself. It was wonderful and almost surreal, to be understood like that.

He and Valentine had already been living together for a few months, sharing Valentine’s studio, when Aunt Geraldine had suggested they switch homes. It happened that both properties were owned by the same management company, and both Valentine and Aunt Geraldine had been renting from them for years, so it was easy enough to do. Sure, it was a little stressful to manage a bookshop and pay the rent for an entire building on a razor-thin margin, but Valentine’s aunt had a lot of helpful tips for success, and she was always glad to lend a hand if necessary. Besides, Lalo was used to dancing on the edge of a blade, and he’d rather do it for this life than any other.

Gone were the days of rushing around, feeling like he’d never have a chance to savor life the way he remembered doing as a kid. Life was still hectic, but he’d managed to find himself a little oasis of calm within the raging storm that was modern life. He and Valentine made it a point to savor everything as much as they could, and they’d both gone from being the kind of person who seldom had time to browse a bookshop with any kind of leisure, to being the guys who sat behind the desk, greeting people as they entered, helping them track down the books of their dreams.

They’d even managed to get a couple of copies of the Kitchen Boy Losange series to have on hand, though they had paid dearly for them. It had seemed worth it, though, given the fact that the manga had brought them together. Losange had Maximilian, Lalo had Valentine, and there was nothing more he could ask for in the entire world.

Valentine was busy setting up tea in the little brown kitchen. Their apartment still felt a little sparse, since it was bigger than his studio, and much bigger than Lalo’s place had been. Some of the décor that was there had been left behind by his aunt, given her new space constraints. They hadn’t had the time or money to change much of anything else since then, though several of his and Lalo’s collectible figurines had joined the more old-fashioned knickknacks on the shelves.

Hester, their tiny little black cat, was snoring away on the sunny sill, paws twitching and whiskers flickering. He paused to give her a pat on the head, unable to resist her cuteness, and then turned back to the stove when the kettle boiled.

Once of his favorite things that Aunt Gerry had left for him was the tea set painted with lavender roses. He carefully lifted it down from the shelf above the stove where all the other precious breakables were stored.

“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything?” Lalo asked as he came up the stairs, Periwinkle running up behind him, her little fat belly jiggling and her tail held high. Hester lifted her head, watching with predatory interest as Periwinkle plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“No, my darling,” Valentine said. “Just sit down.”

“As you wish, Vallecito.”

Valentine smiled at the nickname. For most of his life, the only two people in the entire world who were allowed to call him Valley were Aunt Gerry and Charlotte. He’d added Lalo to that number fairly quickly, but much preferred that Lalo had come up with a nickname of his own, instead.

Lalo pulled out one of the wooden chairs, adjusting the seat cushion before he settled in with a satisfied sigh.

“Earl Gay, really?” Valentine asked, placing a plate of madeleine cookies in front of him.

“That was hilarious and you know it.”

Valentine rolled his eyes and poured them both tea, fixing Lalo’s with just the right amount of milk and sugar. He came around to stand by Lalo’s chair, waving a hand impatiently.

“What?” Lalo asked, cookie crumbs on his lips.

“Move back.”

Lalo pushed his chair back from the table, a smile blooming on his face when Valentine sat primly in his lap.

“Oh, it’s this kind of tea, huh?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Valentine’s waist.

“Mmm-hmm,” Valentine said, massaging Lalo’s shoulders, knowing how sore they got from all the work he did in the shop.

“You’re so good to me,” Lalo said, closing his eyes and leaning into his touch.

It was at that moment that Periwinkle decided to try and jump up into Valentine’s lap, startling him, and failing miserably when she misjudged the height required to stick the landing.

“OW!” Valentine shouted as Periwinkle dug her claws into his knee in a desperate attempt to avoid falling.

Lalo’s eyes snapped open, and he started laughing.

“Aw, sorry, buddy! I already have one too many cats in my lap!”

Valentine gasped with exaggerated dismay. “I am not a cat.”

“Close enough, though.”

“Have you ever seen me basking in the sun?!”

Lalo paused, his brow furrowing.

“No!” Valentine continued, triumphant. “You know I abhor the sun. I am a creature of darkness.”

“A black cat, then.”

“You’ve seen Hester toasting herself in the window. There’s no way I would ever do that.”

“Fine, fine,” Lalo said. “My mistake.”

Valentine took a sip of tea, setting the cup back down on the saucer carefully before he spoke again.

“You’re silly,” he said.

“I know,” Lalo replied. “So are you.”

“You won’t tell?”

“Nope. Never. I’m taking your secrets to the tomb.” Lalo tilted his chin up, a lazy smile on his face. Valentine’s heart skipped a beat. He trailed his fingers along Lalo’s jawline, coaxing him closer to so he could kiss him.

“I love you, my feisty Valentine,” Lalo said, afterwards.

Valentine smiled. There were still cookie crumbs on Lalo’s lips, and his mouth tasted of sweet Earl Gray and milk.

“I love you, too, my darling.”

Lalo hadn’t noticed it yet, but Valentine had created a new display downstairs, in the manga section of the bookshop. The two most precious books in his collection stood side by side in a wall mounted acrylic cube. One was his original copy of Kitchen Boy Losange Volume 1, now slightly damaged, and the other one was its perfectly preserved duplicate, the first gift he’d received from Lalo. The display wouldn’t make sense to anyone but them, but he didn’t care. So much of life revolved around selling things, but this wasn’t about selling anything. It was about the two of them and the life they were building together.