I smiled, heart nearly bursting at the image of Anderson making the book for me. I imagined him cutting and staining in his shed, measuring the binding until the pages fit neatly inside it, carving the word that reminded him of me on the front.
With him heavy on my mind, my hand began to move across the first crisp white page, and then something happened.
That giddiness I had felt earlier blossomed, doubling in size, seizing every cell in my body until I was no longer in control. It was almost like an out of body experience as I sat on the back porch, hand frantically moving as I felt everything around me. I listened to the river rushing, the warblers singing their song into the breeze. I closed my eyes and saw the mountains, the tall trees on the hike to Haybrook Tower, and the smiles of my newfound family. I felt the water, icy cold, and the cozy warmth of the fire I’d lit in the stove nearly every night. The smell of Momma Von’s chili and Anderson’s cologne, cinnamon and pine, mixed in my memory, and I drew faster.
It was then that I recognized the feeling.
I was inspired.
I almost laughed, almost cried, almost shouted from Anderson’s porch with relief.
I wasn’t broken, though I had been bent and bruised.
With every new page, I felt the line come to life. I envisioned the colors—dark and rich greens, vibrant oranges and yellows, earthy browns and reds. I couldn’t wait to get to my sewing machine, to bring the flowy sleeves and thin, delicate fabric layers to life.
For so long it had felt forced, like I would be destined to try and never succeed again when it came to my designs. But the summer had opened me again, and I’d let love in. Love from Anderson, love from Momma Von and Julie and everyone else who’d let me into their lives so willingly. And more than anything, love from myself.
Because I was enough.
And I finally believed that.
Anderson brought me a tall cup of coffee about two hours into my work, kissing me on the forehead before retreating back inside. It felt like it had only been ten minutes later when he emerged again, just as I’d flipped back to the first page and scrawled in large, all-capitalized letters across the top: THE REVELRY LINE.
“Hey, I made lunch. You want me to bring it to you out here?”
I blinked, emerging from the daze to squint up at him. My stomach growled loud enough for both of us to hear and he chuckled.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost two.”
I smiled, closing the sketchbook and standing to stretch. The blanket I’d had draped over my lap fell to the porch and Anderson’s eyes followed my legs down to my ankles before finding my face again.
“Okay, how about a break for something else and then lunch.”
I laughed, retrieving the blanket from my feet and folding it neatly. “Food first.” I winked, laying the soft fleece over the arm of the chair before facing the river again with a sigh. “I forgot what this feels like.”
“To sketch?”
I nodded as he stepped up behind me, hands finding my waist. “Yes, to sketch. And to love.”
He kissed my neck and I leaned into him, heart bursting as we watched the river. It was a peaceful, serene moment—that is, until my stomach growled again.
“Come on, woman,” Anderson said with a smile. “Let me feed you.”
“I’m just going to call Adrian real quick, but I’ll be right in.”
He nodded, kissing my cheek before dipping back inside. I grabbed my cell phone from the small table I’d placed it on that morning and dialed my best friend.
“About damn time!” he answered. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to my place last night, but then figured maybe you went to your parents or something but surely you’d be at the office today and then you just don’t show and don’t answer any calls or texts. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, a little too cheerily for someone who was clearly not on his good side at the present moment. “And I’m sorry, I meant to call but... well let’s just say the last twenty-four hours have been kind of crazy.”
“Crazy? Wait... is that the river? Are you still in Gold Bar?”
“I am, and I’ll explain everything on Wednesday when I’m back in the office. But I need you to put time on our calendars for that morning.” I paused, biting my lip as excitement coursed through me again. I picked up the sketch book and flipped through it. “I have something to show you.”
“Wait... are you saying you have a line?”
“I have a line,” I confirmed. “And I think it’s my best one yet.”
Adrian squealed, and I couldn’t help it—I did, too. There was still so much work to do, but I was excited and ready. That zing, that passion I’d been missing was back in full force, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
“8AM your office, and then 10AM we’re telling the team,” he said, and I heard his fingers clicking away on the keyboard already. “They’re going to be so excited, Wren. We all miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Tell them to have coffee ready. We’ve got work to do.”
He sighed. “My best friend is back.”
I smiled, but couldn’t help but think he was both right and wrong at the same time. I was back, but I was different. I’d never again be the Wren who left Seattle, yet she still lived and breathed in me. Only now, she’d been touched by another place, another family, and for the first time in years, she was happy.
Truly happy.
We ended the call just as Anderson poked his head out. “How do you feel about celebrating with a little wine?”
“Sounds perfect.”
The corners of his lips lifted into a soft smile, the one that made my stomach flip. “Ready when you are.”
“I just need to make one more call. Two minutes,” I said, holding up my fingers.
Anderson disappeared inside once more and I turned back to the water, breeze brushing my hair back as my hands found the railing. I couldn’t decide if I was crazy or not and I didn’t give myself time to overthink it before I was holding the phone to my ear again.
“Abdiel? Hey, it’s Wren Ballard. I was just wondering... what was that asking price again?”
THE END
BEATIFIC
bee-uh-TIFF-ik
Adjective
Of, possessing, or imparting a state of utmost bliss
“It’s perfect,” I said to Anderson as he threw his arm around my shoulder, both of our eyes on the gazebo.
It was a beautiful copper red, the wood shaped by Anderson’s hands, the edges of it carved into flowery designs that reached all the way from the bottom baseboards to the roof. Small twinkle lights hung in ribbons from the top, casting a soft glow as dusk began to settle. Even from the distance, I could make out the small script on the rectangle gold plate fastened to the top of the wood.
For Dani.
He’d worked on it all summer, ever since he got back from his survival trip with Greg, and it’d turned out even more beautiful than I could have imagined when he’d told me his idea for it. All the food for the pig roast was situated on tables underneath the gazebo, and Anderson’s fingers traced my shoulders in wide circles as we watched our friends filter in and out of it.
Being in Gold Bar again, tucked under his arms—it felt like coming home.
“She would have loved it,” Anderson whispered, voice thick. He smiled down at me and planted a soft kiss to my forehead. “Want me to make you a plate?”
“Yes, please. Extra cinnamon rolls.”
Anderson scoffed. “Come on now, like I don’t know my girl.”
I smiled. “I’ll grab us a table.”
He tilted my chin with his knuckles, kissing me softly before joining up with old man Ron where he was at the back of the food line. I watched them talking and laughing for a moment before finding an empty table near the back of the lot.
It’d been a long and incredible year for both of us. Anderson had spent most of it traveling with Greg, filming for the YouTube seri
es and writing his own blog about it along the way. He’d come home several times though, thankfully. Half the time we’d spent his time off together at my apartment in the city, the other half we’d spent out here. And although I loved introducing him to the team at the boutique and showing him around my favorite spots in Seattle, I much preferred our time spent at the cabins, especially since I’d taken Abdiel up on his offer.
It was perfect, both of us having our own space out here. We spent most of our time together when we had the chance, anyway, but between his cabin and mine, we had plenty of projects. We were a team, both of us working with our hands to make home wherever we were—whether it was his cabin, mine, the apartment in the city, or someplace on the road.
Wherever we were together, that’s where home was.
“Hey Wren,” a soft voice said, pulling my attention from where I’d been watching Anderson. I looked up to find Sarah wearing a shy smile, and she took the open chair next to me. “Can I sit for a second?”
“Sure.”
I hadn’t talked to Sarah since last year’s pig roast, and my heart picked up speed at her proximity. I didn’t want to deal with a fight from her, especially not today.
But as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, eyes on her hands, I had a feeling I wouldn’t have to.
“Look, I know you and I aren’t friends, but... well, I’d like to be.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for how I treated you last year. The truth is I was jealous of your relationship with Anderson, and it wasn’t until I saw how genuinely happy he was with you that I realized I was wrong. About you. About your relationship with him.”
I swallowed. “Thank you, Sarah.”
She offered another weak smile and nodded. “So, I know it’s not an overnight thing, but I was hoping we could maybe start over. I promise to be less of a bitch this time,” she added. “Though I can’t make any promises it won’t slip out from time to time. Kind of part of who I am.”
I laughed. “I’d love that.”
“Cool,” she said with a smile. “Well, I don’t want to take up all your time, I know you’ve got a lot of people to see today. But we should hang out soon, just the two of us. Maybe before you and Anderson leave for your trip?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, and Sarah gave me one last smile and a squeeze on my wrist before making her way over to the gazebo.
My stomach flittered at the thought of our trip. Greg had asked Anderson to do another survival challenge, this time overseas, and I was going with them. Well, partly, anyway. I would be spending most of the time in the cities—Paris, London, Barcelona—but he would be joining me in-between their filming. I was on the hunt for inspiration for a new line, and Anderson wanted to travel as much as he could while he had the chance with Greg.
It was perfect.
“Everything okay?” Anderson asked, his eyes on where Sarah had walked past him as he set our plates down on the table.
“Yeah, she was nice, actually. She apologized.”
His brows shot up. “Sarah?”
I nodded. “She wants to be friends.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, taking the seat next to me that Sarah had left empty. “Must be a full moon.”
It was like dinner and a show, being back at the pig roast. We ate as we watched Benjamin ride his little tricycle around, Yvette and Davie setting up mini obstacle courses for him along the way. He’d grown so much in just a year, it was almost unbelievable.
Julie and Zeek sat with us while they ate, catching us up on their lives and asking about ours before they disappeared to spend time alone. Julie was leaving for the University of North Carolina on Monday, and they wanted to spend as much time as they could together before she left. It looked like they were going to make it after all, or at least give it hell trying.
And even though he wasn’t my favorite person in the world, it felt a little weird not having Tucker around for the pig roast. But he had landed a job at his top choice firm in Seattle and was up to his neck in paperwork preparing for his first big case.
We were on our way down to Davie’s to start the horseshoe tournament when my phone lit up with a text from Keith.
“What’d he say?” Momma Von asked over my shoulder, peering down at the screen.
I typed out a quick reply to him before tucking the phone back in my pocket. “He just wished me luck at Nordstrom on Thursday.”
“That was nice of him,” she said, and I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, it was. I think the anger management classes have really been helping him.”
Keith and I still had a tender relationship, but we had managed to form a sort of friendship over the last few months. For a while neither of us could even talk to let alone see the other, but eventually the fresh wounds from our divorce began to heal, and we both missed our friend. One night he texted me that he was going to anger management, and I’d offered him support through the beginning stages. I still loved him, and a part of me always would. I was glad we were able to reconcile, even if just a little.
“It was nice of him,” Anderson agreed, folding my hand in his as we walked. “But you don’t need luck. We all know Nordstrom would be insane not to pick up the line.”
“It’s just a meeting with a buyer,” I reminded both of them. “Just to talk. Nothing promised.”
Anderson and Momma Von shared a look and I just smiled. They believed in me, and after seeing the buyer’s email regarding the Revelry Line it was hard for me not to believe, too.
It’d been almost three months since the line launched, and it’d taken off like no line we’d ever had before. Though the team had worked tirelessly to help me bring as many items of the collection to life as we could, we’d sold out after only three weeks, and as fast as we could whip up additional items they’d fly right off the shelf.
I’d hoped for the line to be a success, but when a Seattle fashion blogger wrote a fanatical post about the line and wore one of my favorite dresses from it to a show in New York City, it had exploded.
And now, there was a possibility Nordstrom would pick up not only the Revelry Line, but my fall and winter lines, too.
I’d asked Adrian to pinch me when we first received the call, but he’d simply spun me around and popped open two bottles of champagne for the whole team. It was a big step for all of us, and my stomach flipped at the possibilities.
Maybe that was part of the reason I was feeling so sentimental about the pig roast this year, because I couldn’t be sure where the next year would take me. Or Anderson, for that matter. It seemed like every part of our lives was moving and shifting, the future a constantly changing puzzle we had yet to figure out. It was both exciting and terrifying, but I knew that together, we could handle anything that came our way.
We were almost to Davie’s when Rev pranced up from behind us, rubbing up against my leg before doing the same to Anderson. I chuckled, bending to rub behind his ear.
“You sure you don’t mind watching this little rascal while we’re gone?” I asked Momma Von.
“Not at all,” she assured me. “I have a feeling he’ll be romping around Alder loop most of the time, anyway.”
I nodded, thanking her again before standing and watching Rev saunter off ahead of us. When I’d moved back to Seattle, I’d decided last minute to take Rev with me. He traveled back and forth with me from the apartment to the cabin, making each one his home in different ways. I couldn’t imagine my life without the little furball now.
We’d just started to round the trees leading up to Davie’s driveway when Momma Von stopped short, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.
Anderson and I stopped, too, Anderson flying to her side. “You okay, Momma Von?”
She was as white as a sheet, eyes wide as they focused somewhere behind me. When I turned, I found an older gentleman at the end of the Alder loop, holding one singular sunflower in his slightly shaking hand.
No. Could it be?
I turned back to Momma Von, a
nd she was trembling, too. Her hand found Anderson’s arm and she steadied herself, swallowing hard before walking past both of us and toward the man at the end of the road.
Anderson’s brows bent together as he watched her go, and I just covered my mouth with one hand, eyes watering.
“Who is that?” Anderson asked, eyes flicking from me to Momma Von and back again.
I dropped my hand, shaking my head in disbelief. “It’s Beau.”
Anderson frowned, still not understanding as he turned his attention to the end of the road. We both watched as Momma Von stopped a few feet away from him, the two of them just staring. After a moment, Beau extended his hand, the flower offered to Momma Von like it was his heart.
And it might as well have been, because she’d owned it all those years.
Momma Von choked on a gasp and bypassed the flower, stepping into the old man and wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her into his own. She sobbed softly on his shoulder as he ran a hand over her hair, and on the breeze that blew through the trees and up through the cabins, I heard him whisper.
“I’m here.”
Once again, and for what I was sure wouldn’t be the last time, love surprised me.
I smiled through the tears blurring my eyes, sliding my hand into Anderson’s and pulling him into Davie’s yard to leave them alone. When we reached the driveway, I stopped, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his.
“Thank you,” I whispered, pulling back just a centimeter, our foreheads still touching.
“For what?” he asked.
“For showing me how to love again. For believing in me. For letting me in. For everything.”
Anderson slid his calloused hands to frame my face, kissing me with intent, with a thank you of his own.
It was hard to believe the paths that had led us to this very spot, to this very time, to the love we’d found when neither of us were sure it even existed. Now we were making a new path, one we walked together.
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