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“What is the point of having money if you don’t use it for helicopters?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Max…I just thought Amy and I could use it to plan our wedding, buy our first house together and, oh yeah, I forgot…I’m opening my own design firm.”

Max turned to Amy.

“I hope you’re more sensible with your newfound success,” he said. He was referring to the fact that Lesbeing—the Podcast was now featured on Canada’s OutTV. The network had told Amy that her personality and her quirky discussion topics about what being a lesbian in the twenty-first century is like put her show a cut above others and that it deserved a wider audience. They especially liked, for instance, the episode where she spoke with a TSA representative about the types of vibrators, dildos and other pleasure toys a woman could pack in her carry-on luggage.

“Helicopters for me all the way, babe,” Amy said, raising her glass to him.

Max groaned.

“How many times do I have to ask you lesbians to stop calling me ‘babe’?”

“Sorry, babe,” Amy said.

Sally laughed. She loved how close Amy had become with him, teasing him the exact same way she did.

“Everything is set up, honey!” This came from Tiffany who appeared from another room. Max gestured for his guest to follow his fiancée.

“I love this outfit!” Tiffany said, taking Sally’s arm as they walked.

“Thank you,” Sally said. “Be warned, though, it drives women crazy!”

“And she loves it!” Amy said.

They all ended up in the living room, furnished in Max’s typical mix of mid-century and art deco styles, though Sally could definitely see Tiffany’s influence on the décor now in the form of some of the throw cushions on the sofa and in the choice of the lighting fixtures. There were also more houseplants than Max used to have back in Oceanside.

On a big screen TV mounted to the wall, Sally saw that Netflix was open to the start page for the first episode of the series based on Max’s Jillian Ashley books. The teaser image was of the two yummy actresses playing Marisol and Karen, in bed together, facing one another as if having a heart-to-heart.

Sally felt herself getting excited. The New York Times had reviewed the first four episodes of the series and given it excellent marks. She had even been interviewed by the Times as part of that review and—entirely without Max’s help—had managed to come off sounding like the top lesfic author the whole world assumed she was.

“Sweetie, I’m so proud of you,” Tiffany told Max as they all sat down. She had been let in on the secret, Max deciding he trusted her enough. After all, they were sharing a life together now.

Snuggling on the sofa with Amy, Sally felt happier than she had ever been. Her and Amy had decided to wait until they received word from all their loved ones—both family and friends—that they had been vaccinated, and until the pandemic was well and truly over, or at least over enough that they could plan the wedding they really wanted, where they wanted it. But Sally didn’t mind having a long engagement. Yes, she was anxious to marry this marvelous woman in her arms now but the only thing which mattered to her was that every day she got to wake up beside her soulmate and every night she drifted off to the uncertain dreamland of sleep knowing that her real life dream—that of having a woman in her life whom she would be rich or poor with; warm or cold with; fed or famished with; sheltered or homeless with, was next to her on the mattress, making sure she was touching Sally in some way as she herself fell to sleep.

Sally felt Amy snuggle even closer with her.

“Comfortable?” Amy asked.

“Perfectly,” Sally replied, stroking Amy’s arm. “Hey.”

“Mmm?”

“I love you, future wife.”

Amy chuckled.

“And I love you, future wife.”

THE END