“A lady doesn’t divulge her secrets. Why are you not in your studio? I thought you had a big art piece you’re working on.”
Her lips twist. “I’m having a bit of art block.” She slumps in her seat and stuffs a fry in her mouth. “Sometimes a change of scenery helps inspire me. Just a lot going on lately.”
“I’ve been stressed with wedding plans too. Let’s do a girls’ weekend. Movies, popcorn, candy, manicures, and?—”
“You can stop there. You had me at free food,” I blurt.
Maya’s eyes light up to a caramel color. “Then you’ll be happy to know Des wants the both of you to stop by for dinner this week. Whatever day works best for you.” Maya lifts up her phone and snaps a shot of Tris and me. “I can’t believe he called you two before I did. It was like he knew over the weekend. It’s crazy.”
“He knew?” I steal another fry, ignoring Nova’s glare.
Maya nods. “Normally he’s clueless about these things unless there’s a flashing neon arrow. But you two? He knew.”
“I’m free any day this week,” Tristen says, leaning back into the cushion. He tilts his head toward me. “You?”
“Whenever. I just can’t stay late. I have a new project I’m working on that’s taking up most of my free time.”
Maya swipes her thumb across her phone. “Sounds good. I’ll let Des know so we can grab some things at the store.”
The next week whips by in the same odd state of people behaving as I don’t expect them to. Some patting me on the back in excitement, others telling me how happy they are for Tristen and me. But my own brother surprises me the most. At dinner, while handing me the spaghetti, he says, “It took you two long enough to figure out what the whole town has known for years.”
“I guess I was too stubborn to see the truth,” I confess.
Tris rests his hand over mine. “It doesn’t matter how long it took for us to get here, the important part is that we finally got here at all.”
“Cheers to that,” Maya says and raises a glass.
Keeping the motorhome a secret from Maya the next few weeks proves to be my biggest challenge yet. Most of the town knows and covertly checks the status when they bump into me on the street. The nosiest even drive past Tristen’s, their heads stuck out the window, shamelessly squinting at the barn windows.
But luckily, nobody leaks a word of it.
I check the repairs off my daunting to-do list faster than I expect. It’s like the town has ears. Anytime I mention what section I’m currently remodeling, boxes arrive on Tristen’s porch or at the auto shop. Donations of paint, lumber, and even a new couch so the lovebirds have a place to sit and relax.
One of Des’s biker friends, Christian Price, stops by, offering to cover the cost of repairs.But Tristen waves him off, knowing my brother will appreciate how much the town is pitching in to help.
While I rip up the flooring, Holt and Tristen construct a new foldable dinette, one with better storage for all of Maya’s books. Lewis even helps with a tune-up and makes sure the engine purrs anytime it starts up, and helps me check all the seals, replace the tires, and paint the exterior to a crisp, bright white. Decorating isn’t my strong suit, so Julia and Lola step up to the task, adding wallpaper, painting the cabinets white, and picking out a new mattress to replace the smelly one covered in mildew.
It’s a tough choice, but I donate most of the cat decor to Kitty’s daughter, Jessica, who moved back home from Golden to start a local cat rescue. The only piece I keep is the cat clock above the door, its black tail swishing back and forth as the days quickly tick by to my brother’s wedding.
All in all, it ends up being a brand-new camper, built from love... and lots of hard work. A night and day comparison that I’m anxious to reveal to them. So many unique and custom features, I just know they are going to love it.
Chapter Eighteen
REESE
Tucking my scarf around my neck, I shiver at another icy gust that whips through the mountains. The October wind nips harder than usual this year with a blizzard forecast for the weekend. I stroll along my usual path around town, the brisk movement keeping me warm. With the slow workday at the shop, Lewis gave me the rest of the evening off.
Normally I’d sneak over to see Tris, but I’ve been more restless with each day that passes. There’s still one more thing I have to do before the wedding day.
The route I take is purposeful, looping around the community field and heading toward the church and cemetery. I kept telling myself I was too busy to come earlier, pushing this moment back day after day. But today I have zero excuses.
Not only have I been focused on remodeling Des’s camper but also restoring my spiritual relationship. Every morning, I pray for peace about the reason I started drinking in the first place—my granny’s passing. I find myself more often than notlingering at the gates of the cemetery, almost brave enough to enter.
Like I am today. I slow down to a stop, my heart thumping in my chest.
It always seems simple. Open the gate and walk in. But like before, I freeze in place, old doubts and guilt circling like vultures.
Help me to conquer this fear, Lord.
