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“I can’t believe you have these,” she said quietly, her words full of awe and wonder. “I’ve wished for so long that I had pictures. It’s weird, but I still remember what Mom and Dad look like, you know? Those memories should have faded by now, but they’re still in my head, clear as day. Only, I wasn’t sure if what I was remembering was right.”
She lifted one of the photos close to her face. It was of our parents on their wedding day, Mom beautiful in the most stunning lacy white dress, and Dad looking so handsome in his classic tux. “Now I know what I’ve been remembering this whole time was real,” she said in a quiet, barely-there voice.
“They were the most beautiful couple.”
She looked to me, still grinning so wide I wondered if her cheeks hurt. “They really were. You have Dad’s eyes.”
“Yeah. And you and Renee have Mom’s. And look at this.” I rifled through the box until I found a picture of Charlotte and me when we were about Renee’s age. I pointed to little toddler Charlotte in the photograph. “Looks familiar, right?”
She glanced at the picture, then over to where Renee was playing by the window. “Holy crap,” she whispered. “She looks—”
“Just like you,” I finished. “I know. It’s like I’ve had a mini-you with me all this time.”
“Shrieks and all,” she giggled, and I joined in.
“Exactly.” She shuffled through a few more, and we reminisced about the ones we remembered. “Tomorrow we can go into town and get copies made of all of these for you to keep. Then maybe I can show you around.”
“I’d really love that,” she enthused. “And I have something to show you too.”
Placing the box of photos back on the table, she shot up and rushed over to her purse sitting on the bar. She grabbed it by the strap and returned to the couch. When she pulled the necklace from the inside zipper pocket, all the air whooshed from my lungs.
“Mom’s locket.”
She handed it to me, and I used my thumbnail to flip it open, seeing our photos on each side. Charlotte on the left, me on the right. It looked like they were school photos from way back in the day, complete with goofy smiles that were missing front teeth.
Leaning sideways, she bumped her shoulder into mine playfully. “I’ve had you with me all this time, too.”
There was something soothing in that, in knowing that, even after all these years, we’d still been together in one way or another. There hadn’t been a chance I’d ever forget her, but I would have been lying if I said I didn’t worry that she’d moved on without me, that I was barely a memory for her. Knowing that wasn’t the case filled me with a sense of relief.
We were two halves of one whole. Two sides of the same coin. And we’d done our bests to stay as whole as possible in the only ways we could all this time, never giving up hope that we’d one day find each other.
All that waiting and hoping and wishing . . . it had finally paid off.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cheyanne
“Okay,yes. This is an excellent cup of coffee,” Charlotte admitted, taking another sip from the drink Monica had just made her.
I lifted my brows, only slightly bitter that I couldn’t arch just one. “Better than the stuff from your place back home?” I challenged teasingly.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. She and Dalton had been in town for a few days now, and with Renee at daycare for the first time since they arrived, and the guys off doing their own thing, talking shop or something—I’d asked Charlotte to explain what they did for a firm like their, but her explanation had been both confusing and slightly terrifying—I finally had the chance to show my sister around. After getting copies of all our childhood photos made, our next stop was coffee so we could finally put to rest the debate on whose was best, the coffee from Drip or the stuff from her favorite place back in Hope Valley, a place called Muffin Top. I relented that the name was cool as hell, but I was still convinced Drip’s coffee was better.
“I think it’s about tied.”
I gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Then I guess I’m just going to have to visit you in Virginia and judge for myself.”
Her whole face warmed, her smile infectious. “Yeah, I guess you will have to do that, huh?”
“You two,” Monica said, pulling our focus to her. “Watching how you are with each other, it’s just so damn adorable.”
We hung around the coffee shop for a bit longer, chatting with Monica and taking the time to make introductions to the people who filtered in and out before heading off to our next stop. I was taking her to Warren’s General Store so she could see where I worked and meet two of the most important people in my life, Georgia and Desmond.
We walked at a sedate, leisurely pace down the sidewalk so Charlotte could take it all in. The cute buildings, like something out of a postcard, the sound of the surf crashing against the shore not far away. I felt a sense of pride in showing her my town and letting her see the tight-knit bond everyone here had as we strolled along, waving at the people we passed by.
“So,” she started as we passed the ice cream shop that would stay open year-round, even in the dead of winter. Ice cream was ice cream. Even freezing temps wouldn’t keep people from the sweet, sugary goodness. “I’ve waited to bring it up, but I feel like it’s time.”
My neck twisted in her direction, my brows puckering in a frown of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
