Day 27: 55,281 words to cross the finish line

I got tired of writing, so my novel ended. I really lost steam, to be perfectly honest. I believe I tied up most of the threads, but there are some that are still dangling. For example, I never addressed who was in Scottie's hotel room who worked for Torstar. Oh well. Let's consider it my "murdered chauffeur."

Here is the end. Enjoy. 

One Year Later

Scottie stood in front of the now empty lot that used to be Jackie’s Place, contemplating how different the neighbourhood felt after so many buildings were destroyed in just a matter of weeks the summer before. While Jackie’s Place had blessedly not exploded, as was the plan of the Murtaugh brothers, the damage from the gas leak and the cheese puff explosion had been enough to force the public health authorities to come out of the woodwork and condemn the building. It was torn down, and Jackie had initially been cagey about whether he would re-open Jackie’s Place there or in any other location. Fortunately a Kickstarter was started to re-open Jackie’s Place, and it quickly raised hundreds of thousands of dollars from the Wortley Village faithful as well as people from all around the world who had heard what had happened. They had recently broken ground on a new Jackie’s Place down the road, and Scottie wondered how Jackie’s Place might work if it looked clean and new. She hoped that she would be able to find out as soon as it was fit to open. 

The stories that Scottie had broken about the Murtaughs and their serial arson and white collar crimes had been career-making. She was back in London for the launch of her book on the whole ordeal, titled Not Serious People: The Murtaugh Crimes. The title of the book, of course, came from her exclusive interview with Ronald Murtaugh after the police had arrested his three sons. When asked if he had a message for his children, he looked Scottie dead in the eyes and said: “I love you, but you are not serious people.” A damning indictment in a series of damning indictments. Scottie pondered whether he considered himself a serious parent if he had spawned this trio, but she kept that to herself. Until she was working on her book, that is. It really was only a matter of time before all of the evidence that Jackie had surfaced led to the arrest of the family patriarch, too. All were awaiting trial.

The fallout from the revelations that were in the book was tremendous. The Athletic, for its part, had only featured extremely attractive photos of Jake Kneiss ever since. It was very easy to do so, since he was really hot. Needless to say, Jeremy Murtaugh was no longer at the helm of The Athletic. 

Less fortunate was that the damage was already done for Cody Simpson’s Olympic dreams. He was already 28 years old, and in elite athlete years, he was decrepit. Fortunately he was able to throw himself into his new Wortley Village cheese shoppe with a renewed vigour. Learning that he had been cheated out of a spot on the Australian men’s Olympic swim team, rather than having lost out because he didn’t measure up, helped him to be at peace. 

The Toronto Star was fortunately still standing, despite the best efforts of Chadwick Moneysworth. He too had been promptly ousted as CEO of Torstar Media, and soon after arrested. He had tried to skip out of the country while out on bail, but of course, Jackie Bauer had been all too willing to round him up once more. He didn’t have a bar to run anymore, anyway. Brandon from IT and Chuck from HR were able to salvage their careers with Torstar Media.

Scottie didn’t need to crane her neck much to see the new running store that had just opened up in Wortley Village, run by Dr. Gordon Toodie. “Becoming Marathon” had been Dr. Toodie’s dream. Fortunately, disciplinary surveillance had lost its lustre and he was no longer trying to sell his dissertation to unsuspecting customers. 

The Pettipiece cousins were summarily run out of town, and the mini militia was released and sent back to daycare. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jake Kneiss said as he slid into the space next to her. He kissed her on the cheek and she looked up to beam at him. Her nerves were immediately calmed now that he was beside her. 

She grabbed his hand and they started walking. They met in the Wortley Village neighbourhood so that they could go visit his house one last time. After the London Knights had gone on to win the Memorial Cup just weeks before, Jake Kneiss’s name was coming up a lot in NHL circles. He knew exactly where he wanted to be, and that’s where he had ended up: a week later he signed a contract to coach with the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

Scottie and Jake had been dating long distance for the past year. She was able to take a lot of time back in London when she was on book leave from the Star. Jake was now selling his house on Askin Street and they were moving into a house in Toronto’s Annex neighbourhood together. They had just signed the papers this week. 

“Let’s go,” Jake said, pulling Scottie towards his house. They were planning on stopping into his house that was now empty to say goodbye before it went on the market, and then onto the Old South Village Pub for dinner. His stuff was on its way to Toronto now, and they were going to stay at Scottie’s house until they were able to move into their new one. 

A new chapter for them, together.

Scottie was looking forward to celebrating the release of her book the following night at the local bookstore, Birdie’s Bookshop. Many of the people who played important roles in the book—Cody Simpson, Bam Bam (last name not known and not necessary), Tanner Barrows, Gordon, Chuck, and Brandon were all going to be there. Jake, of course, would be there—both as a person depicted in the book and as her boyfriend.

As they walked along Wortley Road, Scottie noticed something unusual up ahead. She could see that a bench along the sidewalk did not look like it usually did; upon closer inspection, it was covered in candles and vases of flowers. 

“Strange,” Scottie said out loud as they approached the bench. 

“What’s strange?” Jake said, unable to hide his smile. 

“The bench—” she said, gesturing towards the bench that she had been sitting on just over a year ago, in shock that the Wortley Road Café had just burned down. 

Oh, she realized. This was the bench where she had been sitting when Jake had walked by. The bench where they had seen each other for the first time since high school. 

And, apparently the bench where she was going to get engaged. 

She turned and saw Jake down on one knee. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth. “Oh my god,” was all she could say, over and over again. 

Jake looked up at her with the biggest, brightest grin. His eyes were sparkling in the evening light. 

“Scottie,” he started to say, but he had to pause. His throat bobbed. 

She looked into his eyes and tried to remember everything that she could about this moment. Tears were blurring her vision, but she could still see everything so clearly.

“Scottie,” he began again. 

“Jake,” she laughed, grabbing his hands to reassure him.

“I had a speech prepared that I wanted to say,” he said as he teared up. “But I don’t want to wait another minute without being engaged. Scottie, will you marry me?”

He pulled out a red ring box from his pants pocket, and he opened it. The ring was perfect. The gold band and the solitaire emerald cut diamond was exactly what she didn’t realize she wanted. It looked a lot like her mother’s engagement ring; the one that she had put on last year when she was fake engaged to Jake. It turned out that being in a real relationship with Jake was much better than being in a fake one with him.

Just as Scottie and Jake had joked about a million times in the past year after she had asked Gordon to be her Foucauldian Discourse Analysis consultant, Scottie knew exactly what her answer was going to be.

“Yes, yes, a million times yes!” she almost sobbed, and she bent down and kissed Jake. Her fiancé. 

This wasn’t the end of Scottie and Jake’s story, just the beginning of another chapter. 

 

The End