Page 90 of Until We Come Home

“Take your time, no rush at all,” I say.

My mind has been drifting the last few days. Mateo’s coming home tonight after a long run of shifts so we can spend his off days together, and this weekend we’re driving up to Dark River for the fall festival.

It’s officially October, which means my teaching extension has a few weeks left on it and my sublet is up at the end of the month. Yesterday I finally asked around whether Meridian ever has full-time openings, which I’m sure made its way to Claudia within the hour, and I’m pretty sure that’s what this walk is about.

“Alright, sorry about that,” Claudia says, slipping her phone into her pocket as we reach the stairwell. “So, a little bird tells me you’ve been asking whether we ever have full-time positions open.”

I swallow, my heart fluttering. “Um, yeah. I’m still figuring out what my life looks like after this month. But I was curious whether Meridian ever has full-time faculty openings? I know those spots are rare, so I wasn’t sure, but I’m trying to map out my next step.”

“Tired of living out of a suitcase?” she asks, giving me a knowing look. “Relax, Mia. I spent fifteen years as a touring ballerina. Some of the best times of my life, truly, and I don’t regret a second of it. But there came a point where I just wanted to put down roots, wake up in the same bed every morning, and stop doing my laundry in hotel sinks.”

“Yes, exactly.” The relief is enormous. “I think the grind of touring was catching up to me more than I wanted to admit. Thank you, by the way. I don’t know if I’d have realized how much I needed a break if you hadn’t brought me on for the summer. It’s been incredible.”

She smiles, pausing near the second-floor banister. “You earned every bit of it, Mia. You’re a natural. And as it turns out, the timing is perfect—we do have a full-time opening coming up, and I’d like to make you a formal offer.”

“Oh.” My hand goes to my chest. “I... wow, I wasn’t expecting that so fast.”

“Well, you’ve proven yourself ten times over,” she says, leaning her shoulder against the wall. “It would involve leading the contemporary track for the youth company and setting original pieces for our seasonal showcases. You know how much the students adore you, and you’re highly respected among the staff here.”

“I love working with these kids, so much,” I tell her, my voice thick, as we continue down the hall past the busy studios.

“Good. Take a little time to process it,” she says. “The position would start right after the New Year. You don’t have to give me an answer this second, but I’d love to hear back sooner rather than later so we can plan our winter schedule. Just know that you are my absolute first choice, Mia. We’d be thrilled to keep you.”

My mind is already racing through the possibilities. Teaching the youth company year-round, building original choreography, having a real studio space to call home... my heart flips at the thought.

But it would also mean officially walking away from the nomadic life I’ve built. God knows I’ve made the free-spirited wanderer my whole identity for years—classic Sagittarius, right down to my core. Maybe my chart’s shifting into a grounded phase, or maybe I’m just ready to stay put.

“I’m going to think about it very seriously,” I say, smiling. “But I’m beyond interested. I just need some time to figure out what staying in Seattle long-term would look like. A real lease, not a sublet. Whether it’s really the right move for me.”

“That makes sense,” she says. “It’s a big decision. I’ll email over the formal contract details so you have everything you need. I think you’ll find the compensation very competitive. Let me know by the end of next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say.

She squeezes my shoulder once before heading on toward the costume shop. I stand there in the hallway of the building I’ve grown to love, surrounded by the hum of music and dancing feet, marveling at how much my life has shifted in a few months.

Maybe it really is time for this.

But I need to talk to Mateo first, really talk, about what this would mean for us. We haven’t been officially together very long, and on paper it seems way too soon to be making plans around each other.

Except it doesn’t feel too soon. We’ve been best friends for years. He already knows how I take my coffee and which songs make me cry, and he knows every ugly thing about my ballet days, so going all in with him doesn’t feel fast. It feels like we finally caught up to where we’ve been all along.

Still, this is massive. Signing a lease, planting myself somewhere, building a life in one city after a decade of never unpacking my suitcase. It’s terrifying, but for the first time in years, I think I might be ready to stop running.

CHAPTER 27

Mateo

It’s a crisp autumn evening in Dark River for the annual fall festival, leaves skittering across the fairgrounds on a cool breeze. The place is packed—flashing carnival rides, the sweet scent of fried dough and kettle corn drifting over the booths, crowds lined up for the midway games. The Midnights are out in force, though a few are missing tonight.

Lark is down in Mexico finishing her album shoots, Jack is away for a race, and Dominic and Brooke are back in New York for the season. But Theo and Emma are over by the ring toss watching their girls try for a prize, and Calvin and Maren stroll a few steps ahead of Mia and me, holding hands, Henry riding high on Calvin’s shoulders.

I keep my arm around Mia, holding her against my side as we amble past the game stalls. We talked it through most of the drive up, her offer from Claudia, mine from Barnes, and by the time we hit the Dark River exit we were as close to a decision as we’ve ever been. We agreed to sit with it for the weekend and make it official before we head back. Tonight, though, we’re putting the big life decisions on pause to just enjoy the fair.

“Ring toss or balloon darts next?” she asks, grinning up at me. She looks downright adorable in a chunky orange sweater with the sleeves pulled down over her hands, her hair piled into a messy knot that the wind keeps trying to undo. “Or the milk bottles. Either way, I will probably destroy you, so you get to pick how you want to lose.”

I laugh. “You can’t aim to save your life, so if you think you’re taking home a giant stuffed bear, you’re out of your mind.”

“We’ll see about that,” she says with a mischievous gleam, leaning her shoulder into mine. “I live for competition. Here’s the deal. If you win, I’ll ride you in a little black lingerie set until the headboard leaves a dent in the cabin wall. If you lose, you get to sleep on your side of the cabin and listen to me take care of myself through the wall.”