A/N: Not inspired by any prompt in particular, just a slightly-longer-than-a-drabble sentimental bit that I wrote.

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epilogue

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She's an obstacle to your happiness, dear, and must be removed.

That leaves Matthew.

And Granny had told him, when she couldn't…Cousin Violet came to me…told me to marry you.

The hollow sound of dirt hitting the wooden coffin startled her and she clutched her husband's arm even more tightly.

She could nearly hear her grandmother say, Don't cry, dear, it's terribly unappealing. You mustn't be like other women in your condition and be incessantly sobbing.

Mary wiped her eyes quickly.

In the car, on their way home, she resolutely stared out into the road. "Could you tell me…" she started, still studying the window. "You said once, she told you to marry me."

She didn't look to him. They never spoke of that night with the phonograph and the dancing. But it was only a moment before Matthew prompted her.

"Yes?"

"How did that—happen? How did she tell you?" Mary's voice wavered the slightest bit and she inhaled sharply to suppress it.

"Well, she—she came into my bedroom," he said, and waited.

She said nothing.

"While I was recovering. As she put it—she didn't…beat around the bush. And she practically ordered me to marry you."

"Classic Granny," Mary murmured, taking his hand. Then she watched as the car passed numerous trees, her vision blurred slightly by a few tears.

And there's the end, everyone. Please do review.