“You can do anything you set your mind to, sweetheart.”
“Except get out of here, it seems.”
Ben shrugs. “Maybe part of the problem is that you don’t truly want to get out of here. Maybe it’s easier to stay here than to change the things that were making you unhappy in your real life.”
“Okay I’m going to need you to take it down like twelve notches.”
He smiles my favorite smile, the one that’s a little lopsided. “Too perceptive?”
“Always.”
And he might be right, though I’ll never voice those words out loud. Maybe it is easier for me to stay here where everything is easy than attempt to go home and deal with thirty-four years of family trauma. I shudder just thinking about a heart to heart with my grandmother that ends with her thinking I’m nothing but a disappointment. And an indescribable sadness presses down on my chest when I think about picking up the phone and calling my mom. Ithink she and I need to have a long conversation. I think I might have seriously misunderstood so many things about our relationship.
Ben scoots closer to me, taking my cheek in his hand, his fingers clutching the nape of my neck and bringing our lips together. “Whatever you decide, Cam, you know I’m right there with you.”
“But you think we should still try to get back home.” It’s not a question, because I already know his answer.
“I think that as happy as we are here, you could be even happier if you find a way to have your family in your life, even if it’s not the way you once would have thought. Think about the kind of life we could build together.”
I listen to his advice—really I do—but when the thought of facing my family on the other side of this starts to fester in my brain, I climb into his lap instead. “I think that’s enough talking for one evening.”
“Well, you’re not going to get any arguments from me there, sweetheart.”
—
The calendar that only seemsto operate on Heart Springs time keeps on ticking until finally we arrive at Christmas Eve. It feels like we’ve been prepping for the holiday for months, something that would have driven me crazy in my real life. But here, I find myself relishing all the moments of winter wonderland cheer. I might even be sad when it’s all over.
As soon as it gets dark outside on Christmas Eve, Ben and I bundle up and stroll hand in hand to the town square. Everyone is gathered around the tree, waiting for the lightsto turn on. Carolers are singing, and really, the whole thing couldn’t be more idyllic.
As beautiful as it is, I don’t look too closely at the tree. I still haven’t found my special ornament, and the whole thing feels like an all too familiar slight. But Ben walks us right up to the edge, getting us a front-row seat to the tree lighting. Even though the tree is lit every night, tonight’s ceremonial lighting is the one the whole town has gathered for.
Emma and Ethan nudge in right next to us, their smiles bright and their arms linked.
I lean over to give Emma an unprompted hug, mostly because I miss the smell of baked goods and it seems to be permanently embedded in her skin. She grips me tightly in return. “I miss you too, Cam.”
Pulling away with a grimace, I hold up my hands in retreat. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s not get carried away. I mostly just miss your lattes, is all.”
“Uh-huh.” She loves me enough not to press the matter further.
I take a second to look at the people circled around the tree. I make eye contact with several, all of whom offer me smiles and waves, all of which I return. Even Kate the wedding planner doesn’t seem totally unhappy to see me.
After a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells,” Mimi steps up to flip the oversized switch that powers the tree lights. They come to life in a burst of color and everyone gasps like we haven’t all seen the same sight for weeks now.
But I guess it doesn’t really matter how often you see it; it is a magical feeling when the lights first blink on, brightening not just the tree but the faces of the crowd around it.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Ben nudges my elbow, drawing myattention from the glittery star at the top of the tree. “Check out that new ornament.”
My eyes immediately fly to where he’s pointing and my breath catches in my chest. There is indeed a new ornament, now visible thanks to the lights shining upon it. It’s one of those ones we used to make as kids out of popsicle sticks. The kind my grandmother refused to display on her professionally decorated tree. This one is in the shape of an angel, with yellow yarn on top of her head and a wide red smile on her face. But the most spectacular thing about this angel is her dress. It’s made up of a collage of photographs—and though I’ve never once seen a camera in Heart Springs, I don’t stop to question how they were acquired. Because each photo is tied to me, in some way. There’s one of Emma and me in front of the bakery. One of Anna holding the key to the toy store. One of me sitting on the ledge over the dunk tank.
And my favorite, one of me and Ben during our dance at the fundraiser.
It would be impossible to try to stem the tears welling in my eyes, so I let them flow down my cheeks, not even worrying about mascara tracks because certainly such a thing doesn’t exist here in this perfect little town.
“It’s beautiful,” I finally manage to choke out.
Ben hands me a tissue and wraps me in his arms. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
By the time I free myself from his embrace, wiping hastily at my eyes, the crowd around us has dissipated.
