I don't own any of the OC folks, and I certainly have no claim to the absolutely amazing characters in C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia.
xxxx
Ryan stood outside the bookstore and took a deep breath. The sign that hung over the door said in cheery letters, "Books – New and Used." He wasn't sure why his stomach was churning, but it was. This had seemed like a good idea yesterday.
xxxx
"Here it is!"
Ryan looked doubtfully at the shabby storefront, and turned to Kirsten.
"This?"
"Yes!" She pushed the door open and stepped inside. "I know it doesn't look like much, but it's a wonderful store. I haven't been here in ages." She took a deep breath through her nose as she glanced around, and smiled at him. "Heaven," she sighed.
Ryan took a tentative sniff and wrinkled his nose. Dust. Hands in his pockets, he followed her in, startling slightly at the sound of a bell tinkling as the door swung shut.
"May I help you?" An older woman stepped out from behind a cluttered bookshelf, smiling at them inquiringly.
"Yes, thank you. I'm looking for a book for my husband. It's…" Kirsten stopped and turned to Ryan. "Honey, why don't you look around? This may take a little while."
Ryan shrugged his acceptance and wandered into the stacks. He was dreading having to wait for Kirsten, and a little impatient that he'd been dragged into this particular errand for the afternoon. He'd hoped, when he stopped by the Cohens' house on a rare Saturday off from the construction site, that he'd get to see both Sandy and Kirsten. But Sandy had been at the office, and Kirsten had tentatively asked if he'd like to come shopping with her for Sandy's birthday present. She'd looked so hopeful and unsure, that he hadn't had the heart to tell her no. He sighed as he slouched down the aisle. Maybe he could just find a place to sit until she was done.
A couple of seconds later he stumbled, literally, over a pile of old comic books. Picking himself up off the floor, he put a steadying hand on a shelf as he rose. Cocking his head, he read the spine of one of the dog-eared pamphlets. Intrigued, he pulled it off the shelf, and, looking around, settled himself back on the floor. When he finished with that comic, he fished another one out of the pile he'd tripped over. Done with the second, he stood up, and started browsing the shelves more carefully, moving along the aisles, sometimes tilting a book out to see its cover, sometimes taking it off the shelf and flipping through it. When he found the section of books on architecture and design, he pulled several volumes, and clearing a space, sat down cross-legged on the floor. Opening the first book, he put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and began to read.
Ryan finished the chapter he'd been reading and looked at his watch. Almost 30 minutes had passed since they'd come into the store. Snapping the book shut, he scrambled to his feet. Where was Kirsten? Forgetting the book in his hand, Ryan hurried toward the front of the store, sure that Kirsten was long gone. If he'd thought about it, he would have hated the clutching of his stomach, the sudden jab of panic at having been left, again. But he wasn't thinking about it, he was focused on finding her.
"Ryan." Kirsten's voice stopped him in his tracks.
He turned around and saw her standing in front of display of children's books. There was a bag by her feet and a stack of slim books in her arms. He felt his stomach settle.
"Hey."
"I came to find you and got distracted by Make Way for Ducklings," she laughed, holding out a green book. Ryan took it, shifting the book he was holding into his other hand. Kirsten tilted her head so that she could see what he was holding.
"What did you find?"
A little discombobulated at finding her still in the store, he mutely held out the architecture book he'd carried off, even as he glanced at the cover of the book Kirsten had been captured by. Kirsten took the fairly massive tome from him.
"Impressive," she grinned. Ryan shrugged with a small smile in return and gestured at the books she was still clutching.
"What are those?"
She hesitated. "Now, don't be mad." She looked down and shuffled through the pile, putting the book he'd handed her on the bottom - not meeting his eyes. "They're for the baby." Her head came up, and she said earnestly. "It's never too early to start reading to a child, and these are some books that I loved growing up or that Seth loved. I just thought…" She was looking at him somewhat anxiously, knowing that he was sensitive to how much they were doing for him, for Theresa, for the baby.
Ryan's face was blank as she faltered through her explanation. And then suddenly, he smiled – a sweet, shy smile that made her heart turn over in her chest. "Thank you," he said softly. He hesitated. "For the books and for… caring that we read to him." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You don't want me to read to Theresa's stomach, do you?" Kirsten shook her head, heart full. With a smile she conceded, "No."
She cleared her throat. "Well. I should probably stop now. Are you ready?"
Ryan nodded, leaning down to pick up the bag, and reaching for the stack of books in her arms. Gratefully, she handed them over. He shook the bag slightly. "Did you find what you wanted for Sandy?"
Kirsten nodded happily. "Yes, it's … Oh!" She stopped suddenly and reached for a book on the shelf. Delighted, she opened it.
"The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe! I loved this book when I was little!" She scanned the shelves. "Prince Caspian!" she exclaimed. She pulled it off the shelf as well. Even as she was looking through the volume, she said, "I don't think I ever read these to Seth." She shook her head. "How could I forgotten?" She flipped several more pages, smiling at the familiar words. She looked over at Ryan.
"Did you read these when you were younger?"
"No."
Her eyes lit up. "We should get them! You boys would love them!"
"They're kids' books," he said, somewhat scornfully.
"Yes, but…" she stopped and considered.
"No. Maybe you're right." She smiled fondly at him. "I guess you're not really old enough for fairy tales again."
Ryan frowned at her, puzzled. "What?"
"Nothing." She put the books back where she'd found them. "Let's get checked out."
xxxx
Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. That was Before.
Before Theresa had lost the baby. Before he'd come home to Newport.
Before Kirsten had discovered the lump in her breast.
Ryan scowled up at the sign, and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Kirsten was in the midst of the latest round of chemo and radiation. A double whammy they were hoping would knock the cancer on its ass. She was so sick. It hurt Ryan physically to see her so exhausted and weak, to see Sandy and Seth terrified to the point of silence, to realize that his own fear was threatening to overwhelm him.
Kirsten's illness had broken down the last defenses Ryan had with the Cohens; in the midst of the shock of the diagnosis and the terror of its implications, Ryan had not been able to maintain his distance any longer, to wear the protective mask of indifference he'd put on with them initially.
Three days after Kirsten and Sandy had sat the boys down and told them the horrifying news, Ryan had found Seth in his room after school, sitting on the bed, Captain Oats clutched to his chest, tears streaming silently down his face.
He'd looked at Ryan, lost, the despair naked in his eyes.
"Ryan, what are we going to do? What are we going to do if she dies?" And Ryan had known that the "we" meant the three of them – her husband and her sons. And he had felt Seth's fear rush in and overpower the numbness that had settled over him when Sandy had said the word "cancer." The fear rose up and settled in his chest, crushing him, inched into his throat, choking him, and when he met Seth's eyes, his own had filled as he shook his head.
"She can't," Ryan whispered. "She can't." The possibility of losing Kirsten was suddenly more real than he knew what to do with and Ryan stood, frozen, unable to comfort Seth, drowning himself.
Seth rose and crossed the room, stopping in front of his brother. The boys stared at each other, desolate in their fear, and Seth reached out and put his arms around Ryan, pulling him into a desperate hug. Unable to hold on to his usual reserve any longer, Ryan responded with an equal desperation. They had clung to each other for a long time, until Seth had stepped back, wiping his eyes. Ryan had dried his own with the sleeve of his t-shirt.
"I told Dad I'd pick up Chinese on the way to the hospital," Seth said softly.
Ryan nodded. "I'll get the lotion Kirsten wanted."
Since that afternoon, Seth and Ryan had spent as much of their time out of school with Kirsten as they could. On occasion, Kirsten or Sandy chased them away, insisting that they go to a movie or a concert or sailing. They did, under protest, but returned as soon as possible. As hard as it was sometimes to watch Kirsten fight the effects of the cancer and its treatment, it was harder, Ryan thought, not to be there.
In a weird way, it seemed safer, less scary, to be with her, to see her, to see Sandy with her. It was when he was on his own, by himself at night in the pool house that the fear became too much. He knew that Seth felt it, too, and the boys took turns spending the night in each other's rooms. They never talked about it, just like they'd never mentioned that afternoon in Seth's room when they'd cried out their grief and confusion. They were brothers, and there was nothing that needed to be said.
xxxx
Last night when Ryan was sitting with Kirsten, she'd been listless and bored. She'd long ago tired of playing video games with the boys and any book she picked up, she put down again in dissatisfaction.
"Nothing keeps my interest," she sighed, turning on her side to look at Ryan. Her voice was hoarse. Ryan took the rejected novel out of her hand and offered her a lozenge to ease her throat. She took it and closed her eyes.
"Do you want anything?" he whispered.
She shook her head gingerly. "Thank you, sweetie." She held out her hand and he took it, holding it until he could tell she'd drifted into an unsettled sleep.
As she'd slept, he'd remembered the books she'd been so excited about when they'd been shopping. Ryan wondered if Kirsten would like to read them again. He'd decided that the next afternoon when he was done with school, he'd go check out the book store.
Which had led him here. And now he wasn't sure.
Pushing the door open, Ryan stepped into the store, the bell chiming. He hesitated at the front, but no one came, so he headed to the part of the store where he knew the children's books were. Searching the shelves, he found several copies of different volumes of the Narnia books. He was sifting through the choices, trying to find the most presentable of the alternatives, when a voice made him jump.
"May I help you?"
Ryan turned to find a young man with a stack of books in his arms watching him.
"Um." Ryan hesitated, holding two fairly battered copies of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. He looked at the books in his hands and back at the ones on the shelves.
"Are these… Are these the only Narnia books you have?"
The man wedged the books he'd been carrying into one of the already overstuffed shelves.
"Those are the used copies we have. If you look over here," he moved a little further to the back of the store, "you'll see our new copies." Ryan trailed after him, still carrying the older books. He looked at the paperbacks in the shelf, and wrinkled his forehead. They were fine, but he'd wanted to get Kirsten a nice set of the books, something special.
"Not what you're looking for?"
Ryan paused. "I… I was just… They're for my mom." Ryan spoke aloud the words he'd only ever said in his heart until then. It's too hard to explain, he told himself "She's… sick. And she really likes these books. And I wanted to get her ones that are, I don't know…" he trailed off.
Scott Travis watched the boy in front of him with dawning compassion. "You know," he said consideringly, "let me check and see what we have in the back, OK?" He stopped and turned back. "Do you have a budget you're working with?"
Unconsciously, Ryan stuck his hand in his pocket, checking the wad of cash he had there. Sandy had not thought to give the boys their allowance in weeks, and he'd left Theresa all the money from his construction job. "I've got $50. Will that be enough, do you think?" he asked.
Yes, Scott thought, but out loud he said, "I'll see what we've got."
When he got to the storeroom, Scott went straight to the order shelf. There it was. He remembered that one of their most dedicated customers had special ordered the deluxe edition box set of the Chronicles of Narnia a month ago. They'd arrived from England just yesterday. Scott checked the tag. Mrs. Holder hadn't been called. He pulled the slip off the package and stuffed it in his pocket. He'd make his excuses later – his grandmother was a soft touch. He looked at the price tag - $129.00 – and pulled it off. Forty dollars it was.
He found Ryan shifting restlessly from foot to foot at the front of the store.
"Here it is. Forty dollars." He put the set on the counter.
Ryan looked at the beautiful, leather-bound books, and asked incredulously, "These are forty dollars?"
"Clearance."
Ryan pulled one of the books out of the box and flipped through it. He looked at Scott, a little suspicious now.
Scott met his gaze, eyes wide with innocence. "Nobody reads any more, man. I can't give these books away." He didn't blink as Ryan watched him. Finally Ryan dropped his eyes.
"Thanks, man."
Scott rang up the purchase and handed Ryan his change. "I hope your mom feels better."
Ryan took the package. "Thanks." He shifted the heavy load, and said with an uncomfortable realization, "She's really weak sometimes." He weighed the awkward bulk in his hands. "Maybe it will be hard for her to hold these." He looked at Scott.
Scott could see the uncertainty in the boy's eyes.
"Oh." Scott considered the problem. "Well. We could go with the paper backs?"
Ryan bit his lip. Scott could tell that Ryan didn't want to give up the hardbound books.
"You know," he said slowly, feeling his way. "When my grandfather was sick the last time, we read to him. He couldn't hold the books himself, but he…he really liked it when we read to him."
Ryan was doubtful. "Read to her?"
"Yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but it was really kind of cool. It was just…really nice to do be able to do that for him." Scott looked down at the counter and then back up at Ryan. "It meant a lot to him."
"Look." Scott shook himself. "This way, she gets to hear the stories, and still have these beautiful volumes when she gets better."
Ryan considered and nodded. He picked up the bag and, giving Scott a little wave of thanks, walked out of the store.
xxxx
"Dude, where've you been?" Seth's question was wondering, not accusing, and Ryan responded without heat.
"I had to pick something up."
"OK, man, whatever." Seth was stuffing books into his messenger bag.
"Where are you going?"
"Dad called and said he's got a meeting he can't get out of and I have to be at Conner's for study group. Our history project is due day after tomorrow." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "Dad said he'd be here by 10, OK?"
Ryan nodded and dropped his gear in a chair. "OK. Where is she?"
"Walk around the corridors. See you at home."
Waving with one hand, Ryan picked up the remote with the other. Flipping on the television, he stretched out on the bed, settling in to wait.
He was engrossed in a Behind the Music segment on Journey, when Kirsten entered the room.
"Hey, sweetie," she said.
"Comfortable there, Ryan?" the nurse asked, dimpling at him.
Ryan swung his feet off the bed and went to help Kirsten make her way across the room. He grinned at the nurse, taking Kirsten's arm. "A nice cold Coke would be great. Would you run out and get me one?"
Nancy threw her head back and laughed, sharing a look with Kirsten. "Honey, you get your mom back in bed and then try a trip down to the cafeteria."
Kirsten chuckled, leaning heavily on Ryan as he moved her gently toward the bed. "Honestly, you two. Nancy, do your grandchildren know you flirt so shamelessly with one of their classmates?"
Tucking Kirsten in, the nurse smiled wickedly at Ryan and then at her patient. "What they don't know won't hurt 'em." She gave Kirsten a pat on her leg. "I'll be back to check your temperature later."
Kirsten grimaced slightly, rolling her eyes at Ryan who grinned back at her. When Nancy had left and Kirsten was settled in, Ryan dragged the bag with the books in it closer to him, reaching in to pull out the box set.
Focused on straightening her bedclothes and trying to find a comfortable position, Kirsten asked distractedly, "How was your day, Ryan?"
"Fine," he said. "I got you something."
This got her attention, and she turned to him. Teasing, she clapped her hands together and said in her most excited voice, "Whadja you get me, huh? Whadja get me?!" He gave her his best teenaged why-do-I-have-to-put-up-with-you look before relenting and pulling out the set of books. He put them on the rolling tray at the end of the bed and pushed it up close to her, giving her a shy, uncertain smile. "You said you really liked these, right?"
"Ryan," Kirsten breathed, running a shaking hand over the books. She trailed her fingers over the spines. "They're beautiful." She tried to work one of the volumes out of the box, but struggled with it until Ryan pulled it for her. She smiled her thanks, paging through the book.
"Honey." She met his eyes. Ryan said quickly, "You've been so bored with the books we've brought you, I thought maybe…"
"This is wonderful." But when she tried to hold them, her strength failed her and the book sagged back to the tray top. Gently, Ryan took it from her. He bit his lip.
"They're kind of heavy. Maybe I could… we could… read them to you." His gaze was fixed on the book in his hands and Kirsten could see the blush on his cheeks. He squinted at her. "Or is that stupid?"
"No. It's definitely not stupid. I'd like that."
Ryan opened the book in his hands. "This is the first one," he said, "The Magician's Nephew."
Kristen wrinkled her brow at him. "No. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe is the first one."
Ryan shook his head, looking at the list on the book. "It says The Magician's Nephew," he insisted.
"I don't care what it says. I want The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," she pouted.
"But…"
Kirsten crossed her arms over her chest and thrust out her lower lip. She bore a startling resemblance to Seth.
Ryan gave up.
He stuck The Magician's Nephew back in the box and pulled out the one Kirsten demanded. Kirsten curled onto her side, content that she'd won the battle. Facing Ryan, she smiled tiredly at him.
"Chapter One. Lucy Looks into a Wardrobe." Ryan cleared his throat. "Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. … "
xxxx
It was almost 11 when Sandy finally made it to the hospital. He pushed the door open, peeking around the corner. Kirsten's back was to him, and Ryan was leaning close to her, reading softly.
"'Is—is he a man?' asked Lucy.
'Aslan a man!' said Mr. Beaver sternly. 'Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of the Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.'"
Sandy eased into the room, setting his briefcase on an empty chair. Kirsten didn't stir. Ryan met his eyes, smiling somewhat self-consciously as he continued to read.
"'Then he isn't safe?' said Lucy.
'Safe?' said Mr. Beaver. 'Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.'"
Sandy put a hand on Kirsten's shoulder. Kissed her temple.
"Hey," she greeted him sleepily. "Ryan's reading to me." Sandy perched on the bed. "I see that." He kissed her again. Kirsten suddenly seemed to become aware of her surroundings.
"What time is it?" She looked around.
"10:45."
Kirsten turned tired eyes on Ryan. "Honey, you should be home."
"I should finish the chapter," Ryan protested.
Kirsten shook her head and pressed deeper into the bed, leaning against Sandy. "I'm almost asleep." She reached out to take his hand. "Thank you. Will you read to me tomorrow?"
Ryan squeezed her hand and nodded, smiling. "I'll come after school." He almost bent down the page he was on, but stopped himself. He tore a page out of his notebook and used it as a bookmark. Gathering up his things, he reached out a hand to Sandy, who dropped the BMW's keys into Ryan's outstretched palm.
"See you tomorrow."
xxxx
It became a "thing." Every night Ryan or Seth or Sandy read to Kirsten while she was in the hospital, working steadily through the Chronicles of Narnia.
And these became Kirsten's favorite memories.
Even in the midst of her illness, Kirsten wasn't sure she would trade these times for anything. She treasured the evenings alone with her family – Ryan's deep, sure voice steady through the narrative or Seth's lighter reading, the timber of his voice changing as he read each character, bringing them all to life. When Sandy read, it was humor and an appreciation for the words and the story that resonated with Kirsten and the boys.
Tonight Seth was stretched out on the bed with her, his head propped on his hand at the foot of the bed; his stockinged feet were tucked under Kirsten's pillow, occasionally twitching, raising her head slightly when he wasn't careful. Ryan sat on the floor, back against the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. He was close enough for Kirsten to reach out and rest her hand on his head. She indulged herself from time to time, and Ryan tolerantly let her smooth her finger through his hair. Sandy was reading, slouched in one of the chairs, feet resting on the bed – also close enough for Kirsten to touch. She marveled at the gift of having all three of them within reach.
"'Then it was you who wounded Aravis?'
'It was I.'
'But what for?'
'Child,' said the Voice, 'I am telling you your story not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.'
'Who are you?' asked Shasta.
'Myself,' said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again 'Myself' loud and clear and gay: and then the third time 'Myself,' whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it."
Curled on her bed, fighting the nausea and the fear, Kirsten concentrated on the story, on the sound of Sandy's voice. And she watched as her husband and her sons were themselves transported, for a time at least, outside the hospital walls and the sickness and the uncertainty into another world where good triumphed over evil and a Lion named Aslan ruled the land.
xxxx
After her last hospital stay, Kirsten had packed up the books Ryan had given her, marking their place in The Last Battle before carefully sliding it into its place in the box. Sandy had unpacked for her at home, depositing the set on Kirsten's bedside table, poised for the next reading.
But life intervened. A clean bill of health and a renewal of her strength changed priorities as the household returned to normal – work and school and parties and dates and little time to spend together as a family.
"What are you boys up to tonight?" Kirsten asked it on Friday night, after dinner. They were clearing the table, and neither Seth nor Ryan seemed in their usual hurry to get out the door.
"I got nothin'," said Seth, ignoring Ryan's glare and the fact that the table still needed to be wiped down as he slid onto a kitchen stool.
"Me either," agreed Ryan tossing a wet rag at Seth, who caught it just before it hit him in the face. Affronted, he looked at Ryan who pointed him to the table. Shrugging, Seth got up and began to run the cloth over the table.
"What are you guys doing?" Ryan asked it as he put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He watched Sandy brace for the news.
"We don't have anything either." Sandy's eyebrows shot up and a grin split his face.
"Oh, honey!" He clasped his hands together over his heart and exclaimed, "You've just made me the happiest man in Newport." Kirsten and Ryan grinned at each other as Seth rolled his eyes.
"Well," Kirsten started.
"Mom. Seriously. No." Seth had finished the table and was shaking his head emphatically. Ryan was confused.
"What! I haven't even said anything yet!"
"Like I don't know what you want to do." He looked at Ryan to be his backup. "Dude, she's going to want us to do family time. Play Candy Land or charades or …." Seth groped for some other horrible pastime his mother might come up with. "something."
Kirsten was outraged. "Seth Cohen, I haven't suggested Candy Land since you were six!" Seth nodded as if she had just proved his point.
Kirsten rolled her eyes in frustration. "I was going to suggest," she said haughtily, "that we read The Last Battle. I uncovered it on my bedside table this morning and realized we never finished." She ended hopefully, excited at the thought of reading as a family again.
Silence greeted her, and Kirsten deflated some. "I just thought …"
"Honey, that's a great idea," Sandy said heartily, glancing first at Seth and then at Ryan. His look and his tone telling them both they better agree.
"Yeah," agreed Ryan sliding his eyes over to Seth, who looked a little mutinous. Sandy crossed to Seth and clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a shake.
"Right. Great. It'll be fun."
"Really?" Kirsten lit up again. "We can make popcorn and …"
"Honey, why don't you go on up. The boys and I will finish cleaning up and make the popcorn." Sandy had let go of Seth and was shepherding Kirsten out of the kitchen.
He put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her upstairs.
"Sandy, I'm…"
"Go. Get settled. We'll be there."
Kirsten turned under his arm and kissed him on the cheek. She gave him a gentle look. "I'm really OK," she said softly.
He smiled at her. "I know you are." He brushed his lips against hers. "Let us do this."
xxxx
"Ryan, why don't you start?"
Ryan was hesitant as he reached out his hand for the book, but it was Seth who said, "You read, Mom." He pushed Ryan's hand away, and Ryan acquiesced with a grin. Kirsten paused, looking at them both, and then smiled. She found their place, marked with the Spiderman bookmark Seth had contributed, and opened the book. Sandy sat back against the headboard, and Kirsten moved to his side, nestling against her husband, sheltered under the arm he draped across her shoulders.
Content that his orders were being followed, Seth threw himself down at the foot of the bed, shoving at his father's feet until Sandy accommodated him. Ryan climbed more gingerly onto the bed, also sitting close to the foot with Seth, legs drawn up, chin on his knee as he watched Kirsten settle in.
"Chapter 10. Who Will Go into the Stable. Jill felt something tickling her ear. It was Jewel the Unicorn, whispering to her with the wide whisper of a horse's mouth. … "
By the time Kirsten reached the end of the book, they'd all changed positions to one degree or another. Seth had remained at the foot of the bed, but he was on his back, eyes closed, still for once – only his facial expressions as he listened gave away the fact that he was still awake. Ryan had finally stretched out, curled on his side, head in his hand, watching Kirsten as she read. Kirsten and Sandy had shifted only slightly, content in each others' arms.
Even as she read, Kirsten absorbed this moment, recognizing with a pang that this would probably be that last of these times. She breathed in the memory, Sandy at her side, the boys safe, under her roof, at peace. They'd never had these times with Ryan when he was a child – the four of them, a family, piled in the bed – and Kirsten wished desperately that they had. Obviously, they never would, and Kirsten wanted to hold onto what they did have for as long as she could. Unconsciously, she slowed in her reading, drawing out the time that she would have them here.
But there was no denying the inevitable, and the book was coming to a close. Kirsten paused before she finished, meeting Ryan's eyes, taking in Seth as he waited, leaning into Sandy as he tightened his embrace. Taking a deep breath, she read the last paragraph.
"And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."
The End.