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I nod. “I was actually on my way to help Celeste set everything up.”
“Wonderful.” She pauses, her eyes softening as they scan mine. “And how’s our girl doing?”
“She’s good,” I say weakly, aware that my face and neck are in the process of heating to about a thousand degrees. “I mean, she’s okay. I don’t, uh…” I trail off, utterly mortified.
My God, I’m twelve again.
Angela chuckles. “I hope that means you two have admitted what the rest of us knew the second you landed back in Sun River.”
I stare at her. “W-what’s that?”
Transferring the flowers to one hand, she pats my arm with the other. “Jeremy was her first chapter, Lucas. They were darling together and loved each other very much. But that chapter ended, and her next is long overdue.” Her eyes mist with tears. “What I mean to say is, I want you to know how happy we all were when you came back. There’s no one else I’d rather see with her than you. So—are we there yet?”
I think of yesterday and all the tomorrows Celeste and I promised each other and choke back tears.
“Yes, Mrs. T. I think we are.”
Angela sniffs and gives me a wobbly smile. “That’s very good news.” Then she laughs, a bright sound that reminds me of summer dinners and running around her backyard with popsicles. “Especially since you just won me two hundred bucks!”
My eyes widen. “I did?”
Her smile turns into an embarrassed grimace. “There might be a pool going as to whether or not you two make it official.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “It’s Sun River,” she says, like that explains it.
Honestly, it does.
“For the record, Lucas, I know Jeremy—wherever my boy is now—is happy for you both.”
The words hit me like a mallet to the heart. My chest convulses and I bend over, hands on my knees. A rough sob escapes me, then another, while Angela’s small hand rubs circles on my back.
“I know,” she whispers. “It’s okay. He loves you, Lucas. He loves you both.”
Minutes pass before I can pull myself together, before Angela and I resume our walk to Jeremy’s grave.
There, we change out the wilting flowers for fresh ones, and we stand side by side in silence, in remembrance, as a breeze—no longer heavy, no longer hushed—dries our tears.
EPILOGUE
I take my tea onto the porch of the lake house and settle on a chaise to wait for Lucas. The afternoon air is warm and still, the lake glassy except for the wake left by his strokes.
He’s on his way back to me.
My favorite part of this ritual begins less than a minute later: watching my husband climb the ladder at the end of our dock, his beautiful, lithe body delivered in increments to my greedy eyes.
He pretends he doesn’t notice me, but I know he does because he takes an extra moment to sluice the water off his broad chest.
“Tease!” I call out.
His laughing eyes meet mine and he strides toward me. I suspect what’s coming, but I don’t move as he clears the steps to the porch in a leap and bends over my chair to shake his head like a dog.
“That’s rude,” I comment as I take a sip of tea. The water actually feels nice on my flushed skin.
His smile grows sharp right before my mug is snatched from my fingers. Grabbing my hands, he pulls me to my feet. “Nice try, Peapod. I know what it means when you wait for me to come in from a swim.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Oh, you do?”
