Lottie’s face lights up as I hand her the gift box. She plops down right there in the entryway, cross-legged on the floor, and carefully lifts the lid. Her squeal of delight echoes through the house. “A unicorn! Look, Daddy, look! Uncle Nate made me a unicorn!”
She lifts the carved figure from its nest of wood shavings, running her fingers over the smooth maple surface. I spent weeks getting the details just right—the flowing mane, the spiraled horn, the delicate legs posed mid-gallop. The wood’s natural grain gives it a magical shimmer in the light.
“It’s beautiful, honey,” Mom says, reaching down to brush Lottie’s hair back. “What do we say?”
Lottie jumps up and throws her arms around my waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! She’s perfect! I’m gonna name her Starlight!”
“You’re welcome, kiddo.” I ruffle her hair, warmth spreading through my chest at her reaction. This is why I love working with wood—seeing the joy it brings people, especially Lottie.
I turn to my brother. He’s got the look I see so often on him.
“You okay?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I guess. Days like these are hard. Lottie’s fine now, but this morning, she cried for her mom. It’s heartbreaking knowing Tara is missing all these milestones.”
I pull him into a hug. “She’s watching over you two and seeing it all. I promise.”
My mom’s eyes meet mine and we exchange a look. It’s been three years, but sometimes it feels like yesterday since Tara’s accident.
“Anyway, this is a party, right?” Jasper says, pulling back. “Let me take a moment upstairs, and I’ll be right back.”
“Nate,” Mom says, touching my arm, “there’s someone special I’d like you to meet.”
I follow her into the living room, and that’s when I see him.
“Caspian?” The name slips from my lips before I can stop it.
He’s standing by the fireplace, wearing a soft-looking sweater that makes his tanned skin glow in the warm light, and his dark eyes meet mine with a mixture of surprise and something else I can’t quite read.
“Oh!” Mom looks between us, eyebrows raised. “You two know each other?”
The last person I expected to see in my parents’ house was the man who’s been occupying my thoughts since he bumped into me, groceries first. The man whose coffee shop I’ve been deliberately avoiding, even though every morning I want nothing more than to see his smile again.
Lottie tugs at my hand, breaking the moment. “Uncle Nate, come see where I’m gonna put Starlight in my room!”
I let her pull me forward, my eyes still locked with Caspian’s. As I pass him, he gives me a small smile that makes my heart skip, and I realize this day just got a lot more interesting than I’d planned.
“I’ll be right there, Lottie,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel. Because, right now, all I can think about is how the universe seems determined to keep putting Caspian Lane in my path, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.
“He’s my new neighbor,” I explain to Mom, watching as her face lights up with delight. Of course she’s thrilled—she’s been not-so-subtly hinting that I should “get out more” for months now.
“How wonderful!” She clasps her hands together. “Caspian just bought Special Blend from Old Mac. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Very,” I agree, trying not to think about how good Caspian looks in the soft lighting of my parents’ living room. Or how his eyes keep finding mine across the space between us.
“Uncle Nate!” Lottie’s impatient voice carries down the stairs. “You promised!”
“Duty calls,” I say, grateful for the excuse to escape before Mom can start her matchmaking efforts. I know that gleam in her eye all too well.
“Go on.” Mom waves me away. “Caspian and I were just discussing plans for the Winter Wishes Festival anyway. He’s going to have a coffee station set up in the park.”
I catch Caspian’s smile as I head for the stairs. “I’ll also have hot chocolate and homemade marshmallows,” he adds. The comment takes me immediately back to the night we went ice skating on the lake.
Upstairs, Lottie’s room is exactly what you’d expect from a seven-year-old girl obsessed with both unicorns and dinosaurs. The wooden T-Rex I made her last Christmas stands guard next to her bed, and now she’s arranging Starlight on her bookcase with careful precision.
“There!” she declares proudly. “Now she can watch over all my books.”
“Perfect spot,” I agree, settling on her rainbow-covered bed. “So, how’s school going?”
