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This photo is of me and Zeke at the horrible granite quarry. I’m smiling—no, glowing. I’ve never understood that term, but now I see it. Zeke’s face is buried in my neck, his arms and coat wrapped around me, and he looks completely at peace. My eyes fill with tears.
“I will never forget the time Faye introduced me to my love,” Pasha says. “Even if we did have to wear shirts celebrating the Iceman.”
Everyone chuckles and Caro coughs something that sounds a lot likeTeam Beach Volleyball.
“And even though he isn’t here, I am thankful that Zeke did not skin the bear before he caught it,” Pasha says.
We all chuckle at his nonsensical idiom, but Lule nods and dabs at her eye. This time it’s a group photo of everyone in theirTop Gun-themed team shirts. While everyone is grinning at the camera, Zeke and I are smiling, a much softer variety, at each other.
“I am also thankful for Zeke, who brought my beautiful Faye into my shop and made my world brighter,” Lule says, kissing my cheek as she presses a photo of the two of us at my birthday pub crawl into my hand. “Even if the Knitty Kitty is down for the moment, and even though she won’t be returning to it, it will always bear her mark.”
My eyes travel to Edie, whose bottom lip is wobbly. “There’re too many memories to pick just one. But I’m so grateful for the way you’ve shown me what it means to forgive, to love, and to be brave.”
She carefully places a photograph into my hands, on top of the quickly growing stack. It’s from the wedding. I’m in my dress, talking to two of my parents’ friends, and Zeke is behind me. This picture is different from the others. He’s looking at me, but he’s not smiling. His hand is on my back, but it looks as though he’s reaching for me, as though he’s afraid I’ll slip through his fingers.
I can’t hold back the tears and Rachel squeezes me tighter as I laugh at my poor effort to wipe at my cheeks without dropping the photographs.
Caro clears her throat and holds up a frame. “I think it’s pretty clear how much we all love Mama Faye,” she says, and I laugh, along with everyone else. She turns the frame around and I’m stunned.
It’s a picture of me. Alone. It’s from Willow and Eoin’s wedding at Horning’s Hideout on that godawful hot day in August. I’m dancing with my head thrown back, one arm raised in the air. My skin is slick with sweat, my red floral dress clings to me, darkened circles beneath my arms, the front of the dress open around my legs, caught in mid-motion.
My face is shiny, my hair is stuck to my forehead, but I look like I’m experiencing sheer joy. Not just that, I look hot. Sexy even.
“Wow,” I say.
Lule whistles beneath his breath and Pasha clears his throat.
“You’re a really good photographer, Caro.”
She smiles but then shrugs. “I just caught a moment.” Aly shifts to stand next to her with another frame. But she doesn’t turn it around right away.
“I know this probably feels overwhelming,” Aly says softly.
A well of emotion gets caught in my throat and all I can do is nod.
“We can end it now if you want, everyone runs out the back door.”
The room laughs, and I feel something brighten inside me. Something just on the verge of understanding.
“But you’ve never let me walk away from the hard stuff,” she says, with a little shake to her voice. Lex approaches and places a hand on the small of her back. “Don’t run away from this just because it scares you. The scary things are something the most incredible.”
With that, she turns the frame around, and I gasp. It’s another photo from Willow and Eoin’s wedding. But I didn’t know Caro took this picture. It’s me and Zeke, dancing in the clearing where I found the poor baby bird. My cheek is pressed against his chest, and he’s kissing the top of my head. It was before anything had really happened between us, and it looks like we’re having the first dance at our wedding.
“We will always have your back, Fayebug,” Aly says.
I realize with shaking fingers I’m touching the photo she’s holding, smudging the glass.
“But there’s a very sweet, very sad boy in our front yard and we think you should at least talk to him.”
I look past everyone, through the picture window, and see Zeke, head down, standing at the bottom of the porch steps.
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the room full of people whose eyes are all trained on me, waiting for me to make this decision. My breath comes up a little short, and then Edie is there, a hand on my wrist.
“We can tell him to go, if you want,” she says softly.
My heart races in my chest and I look for Sarah. Her eyes are glassy, but she nods. Zach places an arm around her shoulder and nods as well.
Edie squeezes my wrist and continues, “I think it would be brave to go outside and hear what he has to say.”
