“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “Funny how not that many years ago I thought the last place I wanted to be was Eagledale.”
“And now?” he prompted.
“I think the last place I want to be is anywhere that’s not here,” she said.
His face was shadowy under the streetlights, but she could still see his smile. “Come here,” he said.
She did, and was rewarded with a kiss. Gregory, the little boy she’d played freeze tag with, the nerd she’d scorned when she was a teenage fool, had become a mature and confident man. Who knew how to turn a woman to marshmallow creme with those lips of his.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” she asked. If a cat could talk after having too much catnip, it would probably sound like her.
“Here and there. In between pining for you.”
“I think you can stop pining now,” she said, and went back for seconds.
Chapter10
Christmas morning began with the traditional Brown family breakfast of waffles and Mom’s famous egg casserole. Then it was off to gather around the tree with their mugs of hot chocolate to open presents. Darby smiled at the sight of the ornament she’d given Erika, hanging front and center on the tree.
She’d brought back all kinds of big-city treats for everyone. Sweatshirts for Dad and Cole and mugs for Mom and Erika that featured iconic New York sights—all painted in pretty pastels—as well as knockoff designer purses she’d gotten on Canal Street. And for Jackal, a squeaky dog toy shaped like a yellow taxi.
Cole gave her a Starbucks gift card—such originality.
“Hey, I figure you can use it when you go back,” he said in his own defense.
“But maybe she’ll be wanting one to Brewed Awakenings,” Mom said, giving Darby a knowing smile.
Yes, maybe she would.
Her parents gave her a practical present—a Visa gift card. In addition to that, she and Erika both received personalized music boxes from Mom. The script on the top brought tears to Darby’s eyes.
Daughter, wherever you go, know that my love goes with you. You are special, and you are my treasure.
Those tears spilled over as Darby hugged her mother and thanked her.
“I have one more present for you,” Mom told her. “Although you don’t have to haul it back to New York. I’m happy to keep it here for you if you want.”
Darby opened the box, parted the red tissue paper, and saw that framed essay she’d written long ago. Mom had since dated it.
“I’ve had it in the hope chest all these years,” she told Darby. “But I need to start downsizing. Anyway, I thought you might like a reminder of how talented you are. By the way, there is something under that.”
Darby lifted the essay and saw something else framed—an enlarged picture of her in her Princess Pumpkin costume. In one corner of the picture Mom had written with a felt tipped pen:Always our shining star.
Darby was, to her amazement and everyone else’s, speechless.
Until Erika finally said, “Maybe you need to start writing again.”
Yes, but not on how to look good. How to be good.
That thought inspired more, and as Cole set up his new video game system with Dad and Erika texted with her man in California, Darby pulled out her phone and began to make some notes. And then to write.
A few minutes later, Mom joined her on the couch, carrying her new mug filled with coffee. “What are you working on?”
She turned the phone so her mother could read. “Maybe this needs to go on a music box,” Mom said.
“What?” Erika stopped texting and came to sit on the other side of Darby to read it.
“You really have changed,” she said when she was done.
