“Paulson, you might be the smartest guy I know.” Miles unwrapped the sandwich. “Now I regret not listening to you sooner.”
“Hey, I’m a nepo baby.” Paulson winked. “We live for shortcuts. Training begins early, in our Gucci strollers.”
As the four of them ate lunch, Miles did something else his therapist had suggested. He practiced a little gratitude.
Ever since his mother passed away, Miles had envisioned himself as an island. Alone and lonely. All that time, his friends had been there for him, ready to pull him up. Perhaps he should stop pushing away the love that embraced him every day. If his friends accepted his panic attacks, Avery might too. If her understanding resulted in a deeper connection, it would be worth the effort.
He wanted things. Avery. Tabasco. Waking up on Saturday morning and figuring out the weekend together. That sounded like contentment. Trying to protect himself from pain had become bigger than it should’ve.So big, it kept him from leaping off the proverbial dock.
“Thanks, guys.” Miles wrapped up the last of his lunch. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“We all find our own families,” Hayes said. “And you’ll always be a part of ours. That’s why people have Friendsgiving.”
“Okay, family.” Nate clapped his hands together. “If we want to celebrate Friendsgiving this year, we should get back on the river so we can make it to camp, meet up with our party, and catch some fish for dinner.”
Miles stood and extended a hand to Paulson. “Willing to give me another chance? I promise to hold onto my paddle.”
“Of course.” Paulson reached out and let Miles pull him up. “The great thing about second chances is our mistakes become part of our story as opposed to the entire story.”
Miles took out his phone and typed Paulson’s words into his notes app. “Who said that?”
“I did. It’s a Paulson original.” Paulson climbed into the stern of the canoe. “But you can use it.”
“I don’t want to use it. I want to live by it.” Miles shoved the canoe off the riverbank and jumped into the bow.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Avery
July 29
Avery walked through Miles’s living room and admired her work. The new furniture had transformed the Red House from a construction zone into a warm and inviting home. Miles asked for comfort, and that’s exactly what she’d delivered. She’d fluffed every cushion, draped a throw blanket neatly across the base of the sectional, and built a ready-to-light fire in the fireplace. The room beckoned for someone to lie down and take a nap.
Miles should be home any minute and after a couple days on the river, he’d be tired.
Nate returned home mid-afternoon, while Miles dropped off Hayes and Paulson at the Portland Jetport. Part of her worried he’d volunteered to drive so he could put off their inevitable conversation. If he was stalling,she would wait.
She paced to the sliding glass door. The lake’s glassy surface reflected the purply-pink sunset. She needed content for Montressa’s Instagram. Maybe she’d paint it later, now that she had time.
Avery slid open the glass door and walked to the end of the dock, snapping a photo every few feet. Regardless of what happened with Miles, she wouldn’t wait ten years to come back to Linden Lake. She loved it too much, and at the very least, she and Miles could be friends now.
The loon family broke the placid surface as they glided home to their cove, a V-shaped ripple fanning out in their wake. The babies trailed behind, too big to ride on their mama’s back anymore. One of the adults let out a long, lonely cry, echoed moments later by another cry far out on the lake. Avery closed her eyes. Crunching gravel behind her broke the stillness. As the car turned in the driveway, the headlights behind her lengthened her shadow in front of her.
Miles parked, unloaded his gear, and walked up the path from the garage. It took everything in her not to run to him, jump into his arms, and wrap her legs around his middle like a love-starved contestant onThe Bachelor. Instead, she stood frozen, the hem of her white sundress tickling her knees. Avery slid her phone into her pocket and wiped her hands down her hips. Anxiety twirled in her stomach.
As much as she’d tried to shake it off, their breakup ten years ago still left her cautious. She needed him to come to her.
He saw her, threw his gear bag to the ground at the side door, and jogged down the dock, slowing a few steps from her. He stopped and pushed back his hair.
“Pepper.” For a split second, she interpreted the quiver in his voice as the beginning of the end. Until Miles threw open his arms. Bathed in the pink of the setting sun, his smile glowed like the crescent moon.
Miles Magrum wanted a hug.
She leapt into his embrace, steadied by the warmth of his body. She’d missed his back muscles under her palms. His tight hold aroundher middle felt like proof he wouldn’t run.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She breathed deeply, inhaling a combination of mud, sweat, and dirty laundry. Miles smelled like a minivan full of her brother’s lacrosse friends. Her mother had called it DTS for “damn, that stinks.” Cologne could not save this man right now, but he felt so warm, so full, and so strong, she ignored the odor. If all went well, she’d wash it off him later and he’d return to smelling like a pine forest after an August rain.
“I missed you.” He let go enough to gaze at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “That few days felt like another ten years.”
