I walk through the field with everyone else, and by the time we’re finished, the trucks have arrived with all the booths, ready to build. From across the field I can already see that Casey is right there with the trucks, unloading the pieces and stacking them in sections.
Tyler is next to Jenny Shrum. Married, cheerleader Jenny Shrum, and he’s flirting. I can hear his laughter from here, and she’s laughing too. She puts a hand on his arm, and I remember a time when seeing another woman put a hand on him would cause me to turn into a jealous monster. Now I hope that she’s not buying too much into his bullshit.
Because I’m not anymore.
I’m no longer confused. At least about Tyler. Finding out about him is like putting on new glasses and suddenly being able to see the leaves on the tree rather than a big green blur. All the things that I used to find charming are gone. All the little ways he used to pacify me—they don’t work. I don’t believe he wants me back. I think he wants what our life was: a warm body at home that cleaned for him and cooked for him and let him fuck her without asking for anything back.
And fuck if I’m ever going to do that again. I won’t.
I don’t want the gossip machine in motion, so I won’t make a scene. I’ll wait until later when we’re alone. But I’m not going to marry Tyler. I’ll go back to Chicago and move out of our place, but he broke what we had. And in a weird way, I’m grateful to him. Because a life like that, just existing, wouldn’t have been actually happy. I would have been strung along for years, and it still would have ended the same way after I found out about him cheating. Only worse, because we would be married. Further tangled.
My mother waves me over to help set up the tables with food, and I head over there. Tyler is with us, most of the women putting out the food that they’ve brought. It’s a pre-fireworks potluck that turns into a giant lunch that everyone eats in rotations.
The first row of vendor booths is going up, and I spy Casey bracing the side of one of the large booths by himself while two others use tools to lock it into place. He’s the piece that’s still confusing to me. What do I do about him?
How do I reconcile my decision not to marry Tyler with what I’ve done with Casey? There’s no denying that these last few days with him have been filled with happiness and lust and excitement. But isn’t that exactly what Tyler did? He tried something different and he liked the difference.
The only separation is that I’d already given back the ring and told him we were done. Him coming out here didn’t change that.
I hear a burst of wild laughter and turn to find Tyler surrounded by a group of women. I recognize most of them from the town. From either school or being related to someone I know. He’s telling a story that he loves, about a time he nearly died on the L. Or at least that’s the way that he likes to spin it. He’s carefully crafted the narrative over the years to make it funnier, more captivating.
He’s the only man not working on the set-up for the actual carnival. I walk over to him and he immediately sweeps me in beside him with his arm. “Shouldn’t you go help the others?” I ask, nodding toward the construction work.
“I will in a minute,” he says. “The ladies and I were just having a good time with some old stories.”
“I didn’t know your fiancé was so funny, Carley,” Lisa Jenkins says, batting her eyes at Tyler. “You’re a lucky girl.”
I give her a flat smile. I sure am lucky.
“I’m going to go help.”
“I’ll be over in a second,” he says. “I just thought of another one that you ladies are going to absolutely love.”
He could do that all day. Flirt and charm people while avoiding the actual work that needed to be done. And he is so good at it that no one would notice except for me.
Whereas Casey is throwing himself into whatever he is doing with abandon. If anyone needs an extra set of hands, he is there. If someone needs help lifting, he shoulders the burden.
Casey doesn’t need to charm anyone. Everyone in this town already loves him. Because he takes care of people in the community, and the fact that he cares pours out of every cell and breath. You can’t be near him and not feel that he’s sincere about everything that he does. It’s just part of who he is.
“Can I help?” I ask my dad, who’s busy nailing some trim onto the booths for decoration.
His voice is muffled because his mouth is full of nails that he’s holding. “Sure thing. Stuff’s over there.” He jerks his head. “You know the drill. Get the stuff toward the bottom so your old man doesn’t have to bend over.”
I laugh, grabbing a hammer and some strips of Christmas green wood. The little booths are totally charming when they are put together. A little Christmas village. After the trim, lights will be strung around the tops so they glow when people walk through the rows.
When I was little, I thought that they looked like miniature frosted gingerbread houses—good enough to eat.
Nailing the trim gives me something to do with my hands. Until Tyler asks me to help him find a drink—he’s not sure how we set things up. I point him in the right direction and go back to work.
Then he asks me if I can help him with the simple task my mother assigned him. Untangling the Christmas lights. “I’m working on this right now. I’m sure you can untangle the lights on your own.”
“Come on, babe,” he pleads. “It’s something we can do together.”
I breathe out through my nose, aware that there are suddenly eyes on us. “Fine.”
My dad nods to me, telling me he knows where I’m going, and I start picking apart the wires of the tangled garlands, careful of the fat bulbs of the lights. Tyler…doesn’t. He sits and looks out over the field. “This is really nice. I see now why you always talked about it. Definitely see the appeal once in a while. In a few more years we should come back for another visit.”
I focus on the lights in front of me. If he says one more word, I think I’m going to snap. He’s already broken me, how much more damage can he realistically do? Right now, a lot, because it feels like every word grates against my brain and I’m about to lose it in front of all these people.
Across the field, I see Megan Gingham coming from the drive. I don’t know her well, she was a year behind me and Casey in school, but I’ve never heard anything bad about her. A near miracle in a town where gossip is as common as breathing.
She and Casey are going to the fireworks together. He said that it was just a ride, but now I’m here with Tyler and I told him that I didn’t want him. Megan Gingham is incredibly beautiful, and I can easily see how just a ride turns into something else entirely.
The fierce and nearly violent hatred I suddenly feel for her shakes me to the core. It’s terrifying how quickly I can hate a person I don’t know for just thinking about her touching Casey. It’s jealousy, pure and simple.
The same kind of jealousy that I used to feel when I saw women touch Tyler, that’s now completely gone.
Oh my God, I’m in love with Casey.
The truth of that statement runs through me so fast that I drop the lights that are in my hands. I’m so in love with him. On some level, I’ve always been in love with him, and fear of being stuck here made me force the emotion down. Even last night, it got the best of me.
But I am so, so deeply in love with him.
Holy shit.
Oh no.
15
Casey
The minute I see Carley’s ex-fiancé, I know it. He doesn’t fit in with the rest of the people here. Too polished and smooth. Too smug. And the minute I see him, it’s hard to even look at him without wanting to punch him in the face.
This is the guy that she’s in love with? This is the man she spent seven years of her life with? It seems impossible to me. And yet she walked away last night, and went back to him. I laid it all on the line, and she still went back to him.
I can’t even be angry with her. She’s spent the better part of a decade with the man, and you don’t j
ust walk away from that overnight, even if I wish that she would.
As we get to work, I try not to judge him based on his clothes. Designer jeans and shoes aren’t my preference, but someone’s style isn’t ever a reason to dislike someone. Instead, I decide to watch him. There’s a reason that Carley fell in love with him in the first place. My girl isn’t stupid. So maybe I can get a glimpse of the man that made her feel alive.
I trip over the words ‘my girl.’
She isn’t my girl. Last night that was made painfully clear. But after we had sex and I started singing to her, she relaxed into my arms like she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Ever.
Until Tyler swooped in and apologized.
Carley is across the field. I’ve been watching her all morning, but I can’t tell how she is. Not really. I do see that she’s drawn back into herself. She’s closer to that first day, when I could see that she was holding back before I peeled back all her layers.
I throw myself into the construction for the fireworks. Many hands make light work, and the faster we get all of it done, the easier it will be. There have been years where the construction was slow and went far after sunset. Those were rough years. If we manage to get all the construction done before the sun goes down, there is time for music and a bonfire and any number of fun things.
And if I throw myself entirely into the work of building the Christmas village, I don’t have to think about Carley and worry about how she’s doing. Or focus my energy on keeping myself in check and not beating Tyler to a bloody pulp for ever making her feel like she isn’t beautiful and precious.
It’s not the clothes that make me dislike him.
I watch over the morning, and he doesn’t do anything. He follows around the people doing actual work and pretends to be working along with them, but he’s not. Not to mention that he’s flirting shamelessly with every woman here. Doesn’t matter if they’re married or not, doesn’t matter if they don’t seem interested, he flirts.
With everyone except for Carley. He ignores her most of the time, except for when he needs something from her.
I’ve never considered myself to be a violent person, but every time I hear his voice combined with the high tinkle of feminine laughter, my knuckles start to itch.
But hitting her ex-fiancé—current fiancé?—wouldn’t actually make me feel any better. Because the real problem is my heart shattering. I am walking wounded at the moment, trying not to think about it.
Nobody tells you when you’re young just how painful a broken heart can be. It feels like I’m walking around weighed down with a two-ton boulder.
I keep seeing the hope and relief on Carley’s face when she looked at her phone and saw the messages. I keep hearing her say ‘two consenting adults.’ It would never be that for me. The past days, for me, were a confirmation of something that I’ve always known and wanted. And if this is all I get of it, then I will be grateful.
But fuck, I hope that it’s not the end.
As we work, the day warms up a little, but there are still patches of mud that are iced over here and there. Spots that the watery winter sun haven’t quite been able to penetrate.
I’m heading toward the food—finally having a chance to breathe after several hours of building—when I hear a yelp beside me. Instinctually I reach out and catch the person that’s falling before they hit the ground. “Oh fuck,” she says, laughing. “Thank you. That wouldn’t have been fun.”
I set her upright and find myself looking at Megan Gingham. Red’s granddaughter. “Happy I was within grabbing distance.”
She nods. “Pickles are a fine trade.”
I lean down and retrieve the jar that went flying. “Looks like they’re okay.”
“Thanks to you.”
I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “Seems like I’m the knight in shining armor. Or at least that’s what people tell me.”
“Yes, they do say that. You’re damn near a hero around these parts, you know?”
“I swear, I really don’t try.”
She laughs. “Nah, I know you don’t. You’re just a good person, that’s all. Like offering to pick up my grandfather to bring him here even though you live right next door?”
“It’s really no trouble.”
Megan smiles again, but it’s just a friendly smile. There’s nothing about her behavior that reminds me of a woman trying to hit on me or see if I’m interested. She’s just kind.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’m sorry that he even asked you. I’ll be driving him myself tomorrow.”
“You sure? We could cause a scandal if we don’t show up together. I hear people are already talking about us going together.”
Megan winces. “Yes, I’m very sure. I’m not sure why my grandfather can’t mind his own business, but he can’t help but try to set me up. I swear, that man wants me married more than my own mother. His truck isn’t even broken.”
“Well then,” I laugh, “if he does need a ride, I’m happy to offer it, but if you’ve got it…”
She holds out a hand. “I’ve got it. And if it’s all the same to you, I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
“It’s definitely okay,” I say with a smile. “Me too.”
“Oh, good. I was worried you’d be offended.”
I shake my head. “The way Red is setting you up? That’s the way the entire town is with me. I’ve been conveniently paired up with unsuspecting daughters and granddaughters for years.”
“God, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”
I laugh and look toward the food table again, seeing if Carley is nearby, but I don’t see her. “It’s all right. Hopefully it won’t be an issue too much longer.”
“Same. Good luck!”
“You too.”
We part ways, and a little part of the weight is lifted off my chest. I’m glad that’s out of the way. I really didn’t want to hurt Megan, or Red, or Carley for that matter. This worked out well.
Wild blonde hair catches my eye, and I see Carley to my right, sitting with a giant pile of Christmas lights in her lap while she tries to untangle them. Tyler is walking away, and she looks miserable sitting in the dirt just working on the lights alone.
Food can wait.
“You need some help?”
Carley looks up with a start. Her eyes rove over me like she doesn’t believe I’m real, staring so long that I think something might be wrong.
“Sure,” she says finally. “I’m not sure what’s got them so tangled. Every year whoever puts them back swears that they wrapped them up neatly, and every year they come out of the box like the devil himself reached in here and knotted them. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe it’s the ghosts of Christmas future, trying to make sure that we have more than enough to do to set up.”
Carley snorts and looks around. “I think we have plenty to do without busy work.”
“It’s coming along.”
“I’ve seen you,” she says quietly. “You’re practically raising the village all by yourself.”
I grab a handful of wires and start to help untangle them. “That’s not true. Everyone’s doing their part.”
“Not everyone,” she says it so quietly that I’m not entirely sure I heard it.
Footsteps alert me a second before I hear the voice that’s tested my control all day. “Hey there. Tyler Harding, nice to meet you…”
I stand and shake his outstretched hand. “Casey Bowman.”
Tyler puffs his shoulders up, mimicking my stance and trying to make himself look bigger than he is. “Bowman. I’ve heard your name a few times today.”
“I live on the farm next door.”
He nods. “Excellent, so you know Carley then?”
“We grew up together,” Carley says, not looking up at either of us.
“Interesting.” Tyler’s tone makes it sound like it’s just the opposite. “Do you farm flowers too?”
I’m surprised that he actually
knows what the Farrell Farm supplies, but I shake my head. “No. My farm is cattle. Primarily dairy. I supply the milk for several local creameries.”
He crosses his arms. “And do you like doing that?”
“I do,” I say. “Though it’s a job. It’s not my entire life.”
Carley does look up at me then, eyes wide, and I grin. I may not know where we stand, but I can make the differences between us crystal clear.
“I heard you’re a lawyer? What kind of law do you practice?”
“My firm mostly deals with high end business clients. Everything from hedge funds to pharmaceutical companies. The occasional politician in trouble.”
I nod. “Sounds demanding.”
“It is. But you know I always make time for the things I love. Like you said, it’s just a job.”
The look on Carley’s face is enough to make me burst out laughing, but I control myself. “I’m glad you’ve found such success. Are you enjoying your time in Elgin?”
He looks around at the field. “It’s charming. I told Carley that we’ll have to come back in a few years and visit again.”
A few years? Wow. I grit my teeth trying to keep my face completely neutral. “Well I hope you enjoy your stay. I’m going to grab some food. I’m sure I’ll see you both tomorrow at the fireworks.”
“Sure thing.”
Carley looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Just, “See you later.” She doesn’t seem like she’s completely coherent, and that protective streak that’s blazed to life with anything to do with Carley, I want to march back there and make sure that she’s okay.
But I can’t. She made it clear what we are, and until she tells me otherwise, making sure that she’s okay is Tyler’s job. Just thinking that makes my teeth ache because I’m gritting them so hard.
I grab some food and throw myself back into the construction until the very last stall is raised, the lights are strung, pathways constructed, and trim attached. A cheer goes up from everyone when the last nail is hammered into place. It’s hard work, but knowing the magic of Firework Night makes it all worth it.
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 44