Page 69 of Yours Truly, Fall

“No,” I reply, looking at where the group of women sits near the water in Adirondack chairs. I push my fingers through my hair, remembering running to the bleachers wondering if she’d gotten my note and hoping she’d be there. The sheer relief I felt when I saw her waiting. Pressing my hands to my head, I turn as my head floods with memories. Kissing her. Asking her to be mine. The upset I felt when she didn’t come to the party that night at the lake. Winning prom king and wishing I could dance with her.

Summer’s wedding.

Picking pumpkins at a patch with our moms when we were really young.

Our eighth-grade dance and finally having the nerve to ask the prettiest girl in school to dance.

The sound of her voice pulling me back from death after the fall.

And that little girl on the stairs, trying so hard to be brave to prove to the world she could handle the grief consuming her. Slipping my hand between us, our fingers folded together, and we sat there in silence. I didn’t need to say anything. She just needed a friend.

It doesn’t matter what we’ve been through because we went through it together. She’s always been my person. And I’ll always be hers.

I run to her, taking her by the hands and pulling her to her feet with alarm flashing in her eyes. “I remember.”

Her gaze softens. “What do you remember?” she asks, placing her hand on my chest. I cover it with mine, holding it so she can feel the beat of my heart.

“Everything. I remember everything about you.”

Hope shapes her smile, too wide to pretend she feels anything less. “You do?”

Her arms fly around me, and tears form in the corner of her eyes. I hold this incredible woman as memories still fight to be recognized. “I do.” I kiss the top of her head and whisper, “You were the last thing that crossed my mind before I hit the ground.”

CHAPTER 30

AUTUMN

Living in a pink Victorian house on Halloween is what spooky dreams are made of. Dolly, my sisters, and I go all out with the decorations every year. People drive from miles around to trick-or-treat our street, and for the party we host in the backyard.

With such a small population, it’s good to see kids and adults dressed for the holiday.

While my sisters add fake cobwebs to the gingerbread trim on the porch, Dolly is busy creating concoctions to serve from a cauldron and baking goodies for the celebration.

I’m not in my bedroom here at the house often these days, so infrequently that Winter has asked if she can have this room instead. That en suite bathroom is a hot commodity, especially with Spring coming home for winter break. I take a moment to look around. I’ve only been in this space for a few years, so it’s not the room that holds a lifetime of memories but the home.

My parents raising us here.

Dolly taking over when we no longer had them.

Bedroom shuffles.

Fights over how long someone was in the bathroom.

Pillow fights and stories told by flashlight under the covers.

I don’t feel sad, though. I feel whole. For the first time in my life, I know where I belong. Up on the mountain, with endless views and loving arms to fall into. Home.

Picking up my mom’s bottle of perfume, I spray the last of it on my wrist. Just enough to feel connected to her again. “Thanks, Mom,” I whisper, knowing she guided me right to my destiny.

I return to the bed and start the email I’ve wanted to send for a while. The timing was never wrong before, but it’s never been more right.

Dear Brandon,

Falling for the guy who broke my heart at sixteen and who also couldn’t remember me ten years later was a doozy of a comeback. For you. I’ll give you credit where it’s due. You made it happen, and I am forever grateful you did. Like you once said, it’s a win-win.

But second chances don’t come around very often, and I want to make the most of this one. I love you. I love you so much that it’s hard to leave for work when you’re still lying in bed. I want to crawl back in and slip under your arm, just to listen to the steady sound of your breathing. Please don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not creepy. Promise.

I love your smile, and when you laugh, I can’t help but join in.