Well. Almost everything.
There are still a few surprises I haven’t told anyone about yet.
I arranged to set up the outdoor projector screen in the park for a late-night showing after the main event. The free popcorn vouchers for every kid in town. There is a small tribute wall in the lobby where people can pin old photos and memories of the theater from years ago.
Little things.
This isn’t just a business opening.
It is the return of something the town had lost.
The theater isn’t the only thing in my life that has changed recently. I go back to the conversation I had with Sydney earlier today. I told her I wanted to come visit and meet Emily after the theater opens, and that the guys I hired felt comfortablehandling things for a few days. She agreed that it was a good idea for me to go there first and meet Emily in her environment.
We talked about Emily for almost an hour. I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact I have a daughter. I started to be excited about it and love learning about Emily and what she likes and what’s going on in her life.
I’ve learned that she loves pancakes and dinosaurs. She is stubborn and is a sweet talker. She sounds like me. I smile and laugh to myself. The conversation felt easy with Sydney. Our focus is on Emily, so it’s easy to stick to that, just two people trying to figure out a new version of their lives.
A couple months ago, I left LA and moved back to Lavender Creek, thinking there was nothing for me there. Turns out I was wrong. There is a three-year-old little girl who is half me running around, eating pancakes, and playing with dinosaurs.
Henry snaps his fingers in front of my face, “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry.”
“You thinking about Emily?”
“Partly, yeah,” I respond.
“You’ll figure it out.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” I say.
“Because it’s true.”
My thoughts shift somewhere else entirely.
To Violet. My dad’s question echoes in my head.
You love Violet?
At the time, I answered without hesitation. And now I might have lost her.
She said she needed time. I understand that. I took time after I first heard the news. But the silence still feels heavy. Because the truth is, I can’t picture my future without her in it.
If she comes back, if she chooses me. I need to show her. I need to prove to her with my actions that she can trust me. That I would always show up. And not disappear on her again.
For whatever life we build together.
“You better get moving if you’re picking Riley up,” Henry says.
I nod. “We’ll be home for dinner.”
“He won’t want to leave after Mom’s cooking,” Henry adds.
I laugh and head out the door.
The airport is about forty-five minutes away. Even then, it is barely more than a runway and a small terminal. Which means picking someone up takes about five minutes.
I stand against the truck as passengers filter out through the sliding doors.
