“It was Immanuel.”
“Granny’s Immanuel?”
“My Immanuel.”
He brushed her lips with his. “Marry me, HH.”
She gripped his shirt. “Better believe I will, Matt Knight, and have a passel of babies.”
Pulling her into his arms, he knew he was holding his heart and his future. Her kiss unfurled a vision of laughter, tears, arguments, late colicky nights, diaper changes, school plays and sports, birthday parties and exhausting family vacations, and mad lovemaking, even when they were too tired. Every movement of her body against his said it was so.
When they broke apart, the courtroom was silent, every eye on them. The redhead in the jurors’ box gushed, breathless, “Not guilty, Your Honor. Not guilty.”
At that point, the judge gave up on any sort of order as Mr. Moore shouted, “The state withdraws the charges” and Judge Harris brought his gavel down.
“Matt Knight, you’re free to go.”
34
HARLOW
AUGUST
If she heard it once after the trial, she’d heard it a thousand times.
“Meet me at the Starlight. Late session.”
“Are you going to the Starlight? Meet you there.”
TheGazettepublished a special issue detailing the history of the Starlight. Tuesday didn’t love the name “Wrecking Ball Skate” for Labor Weekend. She preferred “Last Night at the Starlight.”
Harlow was old hat around the place these days. Just a regular Sea Blue Beacher, who attended a girls’ night at the Fish Hook and hosted a book club at her house.
Skates laced up, she entered the rink to Boston’s “More Than a Feeling.” The shufflers were cruising around the outside of the rink, and she ached to join them. But first, she had to make it a whole session without stumbling.
After her dinner with Immanuel three weeks ago, she became more peaceful. The stride of her morning jog was longer. Evenmore surprising, she’d not rolled off the diet bandwagon once. Temptation still existed, but after Immanuel’s bread and fish, her emotions changed.
She took to asking Him for help when she felt weak. Last night, while closing the rink, the stragglers informed her the vending machine dispensed candy bars if you bumped it just right. Got to be honest, the Snickers bars were calling her name. She peered up at Immanuel’s mural and said, “Can you help a girl out?”
A second later, Simon said he was good to go and asked if he could walk her home. She forgot all about the Snickers.
Even more miraculous, she told Mom she’d forgiven her. To which she replied,“For what?”Even if Anne Hayes didn’t get it, Harlow needed to say it. She ended the call with a soft “I love you.” For the first time in her life, she was inching along her personal rink, free to fall and get up again.
Dad wanted to know if she’d like to open a Hayes Cookie retail space in Sea Blue Beach. As it happened, she’d jogged by an empty space next to the future Starlight museum that same day.
Matt’s firm, warm hand landed on her back. “Look at you, skating.” He’d come home for the weekend. More and more, she knew she belonged with him. He drew her close for a couple’s skate.
“Don’t look at your feet,” he said. “Look at me. Feel the music. Don’t overthink it. Roll, push, roll, push. There you go. Glide, glide, glide.”
She curled her right hand around his and settled her left on his thick shoulder. The rink lights dimmed, and the disco ball cast a romantic prism across the floor. The melodic sound of a piano, guitar, and drums preceded the velvet voice of Elvis. “For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
“They’re playing our song,” Matt said.
Harlow scooted into him and breathed him in. Then bump, her skate rammed into his. Stumbling backward, Matt’s foot kicked hers, which launched her tripping and stumbling, arms pinwheeling, toward the half-wall.
“Help, I’m doing the splits. Dial 9-1-1.”
“Work your feet together,” Matt called.
