When we were once again snuggled beneath the lights of the Christmas tree, wrapped up in nothing but a blanket and each other, I couldn’t help but think I was right where I belonged. A perfect alignment of past and present while the fates looked on in amusement.
I had my family and the farm. A place I loved and a community I called home. And I had a man to share it all with. Someone who’d stand between me and the world, and lend me his sweatshirt if I needed it.
I smiled at the thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder, tasting his salt and his heat and his strength. And feeling beyond grateful for second chances and small towns.
There had been a time when coming back to Kirby Falls had seemed impossible—worse than impossible, it had seemed like failure. I’d held on to a dream with both fists without ever noticing that it had changed shape in my clutching hands.
But somehow I knew that Mark and I would keep growing and encouraging one another. We’d keep loving and forgiving, all the while being grateful for the chance to do it all together. Our dreams would take shape, and we’d give them room to grow. I didn’t know what the future held, but as I squeezed Mark’s hand and snuggled closer to his side, I knew I wouldn’t have to face it alone.
The following week, we decided to spend New Year’s Eve at Firefly with our friends.
It was cold, but the night was clear and bright. The fire pits were lit, and the outdoor heaters were cranked up to high on the back porch. A band played and folks congregated at picnic tables and children ran through the winter grass.
It was still pretty early though. Three hours until midnight.
As I made my way toward our group around the fire pit, I carefully balanced the two ciders I held in my hands.
I could see Mark standing among the others, arms crossed, navy-blue toboggan covering his short hair. The orange flames from the fire highlighted him like my own personal bearded beacon. Suddenly he laughed at whatever Brady said, and I was grateful for my idiot brother putting Mark at ease.
We didn’t hide anymore. Our relationship was out in the open, but we still liked our quiet moments at home—one we shared. I knew Mark had some things to work through. It took time to change years of learned behavior. He’d talked about speaking to a therapist, and I supported him wholeheartedly. I thought there was a lot of trauma surrounding Hannah and Lyndsey that he needed to acknowledge, and seeking a professional would probably be the best way to go about that.
My eyes scanned the rest of our group. Joan was sitting down, having a quiet conversation with Laramie. Will Clark and his girlfriend, Becca, were snuggled up on an Adirondack chair while Becca chatted with Chloe. Her boyfriend,Jordan, went back and forth between us and his staff to make sure everything was running smoothly at Firefly tonight.
Bonnie and her husband were listening in on whatever story Brady told, but their body language was a little stiff. A familiar tension took hold when I thought about my friend. I didn’t know what was going on in her marriage, but I knew she didn’t want to talk about it. Whenever I brought up her husband or things at home, she blew me off—pretended that everything was just fine. So I did my best to make myself available—a safe space for whatever she needed, whenever she was ready for it.
Before I could stare a hole through Danny Jensen’s head, a little boy darted in front of me, causing me to pull up short. Hard cider sloshed over the rim of one of the glasses I held, but I grinned down at the little rascal. He beamed back with two front teeth missing, like he knew he was cute.
“Tommy, apologize,” came a stern voice from beyond the boy.
I swallowed and looked toward the table where the voice originated, knowing who I’d find when I looked up.
“Sorry,” he said sweetly and then went to join his mother at a huge picnic table filled with adults and children.
I met Lauren Walker’s steady gaze as she said, “Sorry, he’s a handful.”
“No worries,” I told Lo. Then I gave my former best friend a nod and went on my way.
I didn’t let the shock of seeing her ruin my night. I thought I’d finally made my peace. Saying goodbye the summer after graduation might not have been on my own terms, but it was now. I was staying in Kirby Falls. I had to be okay with seeing visions from my past. That didn’t mean I had to relive them.
Run-ins with Lo would be inevitable, but I’d survive. I refused to let all my good memories of our friendship be tainted by the abrupt end of it. Lo could forget me all she wanted. I would remember, and then I’d move on...the way Mark was moving on.
He’d told me about the visit he’d received from Reverend Price. How it hadn’t been enough, but it had given Mark the closure he needed.
Our pasts were like that sometimes. It was easier to close a door and lock it without having to wonder if it would ever open again. Keeping it cracked left plenty of room for disappointment.
When I reached my friends, Mark accepted his drink and slid a hand around my waist. A warm whisper against the shell of my ear asked, “You okay?”
Because of course, he’d noticed.
Staying close, I nodded. The scruff of his beard tickled my cheek. “I’m good.”
We spent the next few hours drinking and laughing as the groups with kids slowly trickled out.
Eventually, Mark and I ended up in the grassy area in front of the stage while the band belted out a pretty solid rendition of “Faithfully” by Journey. The song ended and the singer announced a time check. One minute until midnight.
Even though we’d stopped dancing, I still had my arms around Mark’s neck while he held me close.
“Sooooo,” I said.
