The idle life is not for her, and in that sense, Geneva was right in assuming that Anabelle would want more, but she got carried away (as mothers do) and failed to realize that pageantry was never her daughter's ideal for happiness. Perhaps it was when she was still too young to know better, but the years took their toll and eventually, it was striving for beauty and perfection that nearly killed her. That isn't something she will soon forget; she may still be here, she's up to two near-death experiences now and the only constant is Elvis. Twice, now, he's been the one to save her, however indirectly, and she isn't so stubborn as to overlook the signs right before her eyes.

Patience is not her strong suit, but in this moment, Anabelle wants nothing more than to stay put, to lie in his arms and keep kissing until both their lips are too chapped to go on. "I never wanna leave again," she tells him. If her purpose in life is to find what makes her happy and never let it go, she's succeeded in the former and intent on the latter. They'll spruce up the house some more and Elvis will write his books while she learns to play the guitar and sing songs she actually likes. They'll hole up in bed on the weekends and surface only at Charlie's behest, and someday soon he'll finally score under seventy. They can be themselves, together, and let the rest of the world just fuck right off. Nothing's ever sounded so good.