Chapter Twenty-Four
Five months later
Spring has arrived in Harmony. Winter was long and dreary, but not as bad as a Chicago winter, according to Connor. He says everyone on the East Coast complains about what Midwesterners would call a minor nuisance. We whine about the storms, yet we’re so underprepared. It’s like we don’t want to admit a blizzard is coming until Mother Nature shows up and dumps a Snowmageddon on our heads.
And then Connor started to complain. We can’t drive. There’s no salt on the roads. Doesn’t Brian own a snowplow? Why won’t the snowblower turn on?
Anyway, back to spring.
After basketball practice ends on this gorgeous Friday afternoon, I venture out to the parking lot. Connor parked at the front of the pickup lane, arriving early enough to beat out the freshman team’s parents for a prime spot. By junior year, not many of us are waiting for pickups, but I really don’t care. It’s not like my mom drives me around town. Just a hot guy.
Anyway, Connor flew through his GED after one long weekend of studying. Brian hired an attorney to speak with Connor’s uncle and the Chicago police. Connor paid back the $500 he stole and was given one year of probation.
While I’m at school, Connor studies for the SATs, reads War and Peace, and rigs my computer screen with funny pictures of us together. He’s hoping to be ready for college next year. He wants to study for a business degree, even though his future fortune, after he gets through all the paperwork and receives the full title to the Westerly Estate, will support him for a long time. Brian fronted Connor the money to clean up the land and rebuild the barn, but according to our calculations, Connor will eventually need to sell at least half of his two hundred acres.
Newspaper reporters call daily. Universities send mail. Connor has real estate developers following him around town, offering to help him profit from the best patch of open space in the entire county. And life goes on.
“Hey, it’s Melinda the beautiful.” Connor changes my nickname on a daily basis. He hated Scary B. And since Connor No Longer of the Woods is too darn long, I call him Connor. I’m boring that way.
He pulls down his sunglasses, checking out my practice uniform as I slide into the passenger side of the truck. The stress of the last few months, and the year before that, wore him down, but he’s finally starting to bounce back. He’s put on weight. He smiles more. He never talks about his life Chicago. But sometimes I think he might want to.
“Hey, yourself,” I say, leaning in for his kiss. The driver behind us honks their horn. Connor responds with a rude gesture. We share a smile. “So, how was your day?” I ask. “Anything new in the real estate development business?”
“I got another call from my lawyer,” he says, as if this is normal for any eighteen-year old high-school dropout. “My uncle wants to see me. To apologize.” Connor pulls into the exit lane and follows the line of traffic away from school.
“Do you want to see him—for closure or anything?”
Connor shakes his head. “Hell, no. I’ve moved on from that mess.”
“Any news on your mom?”
“She’s stable,” Connor says. “The new facility takes much better care of her.”
At the red light he kisses me again. Since he came out of hiding, Connor and I have formed an irreversible love connection.
We’ve made plans. Together, we’ll build a future out of the land Jack left behind.
We decided to repair the wall around the half of the land we’re keeping. Clean the bricks, cover the cracks, and upgrade the foundation. The Westerly wall stands, an emblem of the past. It also reminds us that life goes on and the future brings change.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
After thinking about my “wall story” for a long time, I’d like to thank those who helped me take the idea in my head and turn it into a book.
First, Patricia Calvert, who guided me through an early draft and also made some suggestions that ultimately changed the entire path of this story. Thank you for your encouragement and wisdom.
Thanks to my critique partners, especially Theresa Hernandez, for so graciously offering their thoughts and advice. Thank you to my son, Matthew, who came up with Connor’s horse names. I’m confident when I say that I would never in a million years come up with anything close to what you suggested. To my daughter Kristen, takes great pride in pointing out when I’m using too many adjectives. To my son Dean, who keeps me up to speed on the latest advances in social media. Thank you to my husband for providing his better-late-then never advice and comments.
Also, I’m grateful to my friends back home in the Philadelphia area who continue to support me, especially Audrey and Donna. And thank you to Enny for offering your expert advice.
I’d also like to thank Annie Cosby for her editorial work and Georgia McBride for suggesting that we continue this series about the Harmony High gang and for coming up with the fun title for this book.
JENNIFER DIGIOVANNI
Jennifer DiGiovanni is the author of the School Dayz Series. When she’s not writing or reading, she likes to try new sports and activities from archery to ballroom dancing, with varying degrees of success.
OTHER SWOON ROMANCE TITLES YOU MIGHT LIKE
LIFE IN THE NO-DATING ZONE
LIFE IN THE LUCKY ZONE
Find more awesome teen romance books at www.myswoonromance.com
Connect with Swoon Romance online:
Facebook: www.Facebook.com/swoonromance
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SwoonRomance
You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/swoonromance
Instagram: https://instagram.com/swoonromance/
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Swoon Romance Titles You Might Like
My Junior Year of Loathing (School Dayz #2) Page 20