Page 91 of Mac Meyers Needs Me

“The time it would have taken to put something like this together is mind-blowing.” Her expression is full of wonder. “All these pieces by different artists that go together seamlessly.”

I discovered this Love is in the Air installation and secured tickets just before it ended. Fee’s huge smile is exactly what I was hoping for. Two days after the copycat surfaced, Fee rebutted with time-lapse video of her in process with some of her works the copycat laid claim to, as well as a new poster that went viral, and dared the copycat to do the same. Since then, the copycat account has gone silent, and Fee has announced that she’s submitting a piece to the spring installation for anyone who wants to meet her in person. We still don’t know who the copycat is, but they must be a Tilton student, so it’s only a matter of time before their identity is revealed.

The outpouring of support from fans has been a little overwhelming, but for the most part it’s also been wildly positive, which I expected. I’m super proud of her for putting herself out there.

I wanted her to see what’s in store when she steps out of the shadows.

Fee hugs my arm as we pass through a string light tunnel that morphs into a tree canopy. The leaves are hearts threaded through with pink lights, and in the center of the trunk is a hot pink felt tip marker. Fee stops to add MM + OFH and the date, along with all the other people who have stopped here.

She turns and grips the lapels on my jacket, tipping her head up, and I bend to kiss her. “It’s so perfectly romantic.”

“It really is.” I hug her for a long moment, smiling at our initials on the heart.

Eventually, she laces our fingers and pulls me to the next piece. We stand under a steel-framed umbrella, pale blue lights fading to white as they stream down the sides to mimic falling rain.

She follows the stream of light with her fingers. “My mom would’ve loved this.”

“She helped you prepare for all your art shows?” I’ve learned that even though Fee gets emotional when she talks about her parents, it’s cathartic. Every story she shares that brings a teary smile to her face is tucked into my heart, expanding the space reserved for her. I’m not just falling for her, I’ve fallen, fully and completely.

“Every single one. And we’d go to them in every city we visited. It was our thing. Especially when we had to go to one of Callie’s weekend tournaments since they were all over the province.”

“And you were too young to stay home alone.”

“I could’ve stayed with my grandparents, and sometimes I did, but my mom wanted us to be together, and she would make it fun for me to come along. My dad hung out at the arena with Callie, and Mom and I would visit local galleries.”

“Were you on the road a lot with your family?”

“Oh yeah. As soon as Callie could hold a stick and stay upright on the ice, she was all hockey all the time,” Fee explains. “My mom wasn’t as involved with Lexi and her hockey trajectory, but she went all in with us. She was forever posting pictures on social media.”

Sadness frays her tone. Lately she’s been more open about her parents and how online they looked perfect, and she believed in that, but now she sees it differently, because of Lexi.

She links our fingers and we move to the next installation: a carriage that looks like it’s right out of a fairy tale. “Before Callie started playing competitively, my parents would pull us out of school for weeks at a time, and we’d go on these random, unplanned vacations,” she confides. “When Callie was little, we went to Europe and visited all the castles and cathedrals. I soaked up all that history and art. It was one of my favorite vacations.”

“They sound like they were really involved.” So are mine, but I can’t imagine having that kind of childhood and suddenly losing it all.

“They never missed a hockey game, or practice or art show. It was very different for Lexi, though. Our mom and Kristoff weren’t right for each other. He could give her things, but he wasn’t really present. He’s the same with Lexi.”

“That really bothers you.” She’s fiercely protective of Lexi, which is understandable, given her role in Fee’s life.

“It hurts her that he’s not emotionally available, and that makes me hurt too. He just doesn't have the capacity to be what she needs. Roman shows up for her in all the ways that count, though. Sometimes I wish Lexi and I were closer in age, and then maybe it would have been different for her, but I don’t know…no parent is perfect.” We walk through a winter garden, each flower defined by the most amazing lights; pink petals, green, leafy stems, yellow centers, and the occasional bumblebee hiding in the pollen, the promise of spring that still feels far away.

“I miss my parents every day, and I really wish they were still here.” She turns to me, expression soft. Her trauma has forced her to grow up in ways I can appreciate, but not fully understand. “But maybe Lexi and I wouldn’t be this close now if they were. I lost so much, we all did, but I’m lucky to have a sister who loves Callie and I enough to become our legal guardian. And even though he seems scary at first, Roman is just the biggest, softest teddy bear. He has the dad thing on lock and he’s exactly what Callie needs. I see the way he and Lexi are together, and I know it’s a special kind of love. Lexi deserves that.”

“So do you.”

“I have it and I appreciate it,” she says softly. “But I’m always scared that it could just all disappear on me, because it has before. But we only live once,” she adds. “And hiding from experiences and people and emotions, even when they make us hurt, isn’t how I want to go through life.” She sighs. “Ugh. Too much introspection.”

I want to broach what will happen if I get called up after graduation, but we reach the final piece in the installation, and I lose the opportunity.

“Oh, Mac.” Fee takes my hand and leads me up the steps. “This is otherworldly.”

We’re standing inside a snow globe. Fake flakes sway lightly above us, suspended from the ceiling by fishing wire. Other flakes line the walls, lighting up and fading out to give the illusion of a snowfall. I can’t imagine the science and physics that went into making this possible. It’s a romantic scene with a bench and a tree all strung with pink lights. I put my phone in the holder and we take a seat on the bench. A heart-shaped pattern appears on the walls and Fee’s smile widens.

She takes my face in her hands and kisses me softly. “Best date ever.”

“It’s not even over yet.”

When our noses and fingers are numb with cold, we walk back to the car and drive to my place.