Page 52 of Reptile Dysfunction
That did a lot to ease the tension that I myself had created in asking for the Pickle Fest invoices, and I even made a few friends out of the process. Gabriella from the local cafe has become one of my closest friends since then, and even Fred and I have hit it off now that we’re not working together anymore.
And after I stopped chasing slander pieces against Mason, Eddie took me off probation too. He was fully supportive of my new coverage of the festival, giving me pointers and contacts to make the piece the best it could be. And unlike Derek back at the Tribune, Eddie is an editor I know I can trust and respect.
His advice was invaluable, and I’m happy to say the article was a total success. Not only did it make for arresting front-page coverage, I didn’t even have to ruin Mason’s life for the sake of the story. Turns out any news about Pickle Fest sells itself.
And not only to the town’s residents. Somehow a paper in St. Louis read my Pickle Fest article and offered me a staff position doing events coverage. This was everything I thought I wanted from my career, but against all odds, I actually turned it down. I’ve really come to love my place here in Curiosity. Smiling up at Mason as we make our way to the mountain’s summit, I know I made the right decision by staying.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” Mason tells me as he guides me to the lookout.
When I join him up there, the view literally takes my breath away. I can see all of Curiosity laid out before me. The Pickle Fest grounds have been converted back to a muddy wallowing pit for the local porcine population. The Curiosity Commons shines out as a patch of green among the cobblestone streets and tiled rooftops. I spy the row of specialty stores that line Main Street, and the town hall like a jewel in the town’s center. I can even see the roof of my own apartment building nearby.
I imagine all the people down there, going about their day, and I try to guess what each of them might be doing right about now. Eddie’s probably spending his day off hand carving a flute, a hobby I only recently learned about. Chris is no doubt still sleeping and probably will be for another couple of hours until he has to get up to open the bar. And Fred, I’m sure, is tending to his mushrooms or loitering in Chet’s store, or napping somewhere.
It’s nice to peer down at Curiosity from here and feel like I really know it beyond just a name on a map, or even a journalistic subject. Instead, the view is a reminder of everything I’ve grown attached to here, a visual depiction of my story in this quirky little town. More than that, it’s a map of the place that’s become my home, in some ways even more than Chicago ever was.
As I look over Curiosity, I’m overcome with a warmth radiating from my chest. I can only describe it as an innate sense of belonging.
Mason and I spend a long time just gazing down at the town, and I can only imagine he’s feeling something similar to what I am. I know how much he loves this town, and how dedicated he is to serving it. Now, like so many other times over the last few months, I can’t believe I ever doubted his integrity.
“Thank you,” I finally say, turning to him. “I’m really glad you brought me here.”
Mason smiles at me, and I lean in to kiss him gently. It still feels surreal sometimes and I savor the kiss, fully aware of how close I came to never getting to experience this love.
“There’s something else I wanted to show you, too,” he says once I pull away.
I expect him to lead me further up the mountain path, maybe to another lookout, so when he gets down on one knee, I can hardly believe what’s happening.
“Charlotte,” he says, a warm and loving smile on his face. “I could hardly have believed when we first met that I would fall so head over heels in love with you. We’ve gone through so much together already, but through it all, I’ve never doubted the good in you.”
My heart swells at his words, and I can feel my cheeks growing warm, not just from the hot sun but from the love and joy that’s growing inside me with each passing second.
“You’re intelligent, loving, honest, and compassionate,” Mason continues. “And I know that you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. No matter what life throws our way, I know we’ll stand by each other. We’ve proven that before, and I have no doubt that will remain true for the rest of our lives. Charlotte Lieberman, will you marry me?”
Seemingly out of nowhere, Mason produces a ring box, and when he opens it, the midday sun glints off a diamond ring inside.
There’s not a moment of hesitation in me as I answer.
“Oh my God, yes!” I cry, and I see Mason’s face spread into a wide smile.
He stands up, and I practically throw myself into his arms, pressing my lips into his and feeling that surreal joy all over again. Only this time, it’s even stronger.
As we kiss, I can feel and hear his snakes writhing with what I’ve come to learn is excitement, and when we finally pull away from each other, I can see the same emotion written all over Mason’s face.
“I love you so much,” he tells me.
For a moment, I can only look into his eyes as if I’m seeing the entirety of our future together reflected in them.
“I love you, too,” I finally say, my voice soft but full of emotion.
At this, he lets go of my waist and reaches into the ring box still clutched in one hand. With a loving smile, he slides the ring onto my finger. It’s both a perfect fit and the perfect style, proving how well Mason knows me.
“It’s beautiful,” I say. We embrace again, foreheads pressed together and both of us grinning widely while Curiosity shines bright in the background.
I couldn’t ask for anything more perfect.
32
MASON