I stare at it, trying to see it through her eyes. Trying to see it through the eyes of the people who lost homes and loved ones in the fires. Trying to understand if I captured what I was trying to say.
And then I see Mrs. Patterson standing in front of it, her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
She turns and catches my eye, and the gratitude in her expression nearly undoes me.
"Thank you," she mouths.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Piper squeezes my hand. "You did that. You gave her that."
"We did that," I correct. "None of this would have happened without you."
She smiles and leans her head against my shoulder, and we stand there together, watching as more and more people gather around the cake.
The official ceremonystarts at noon.
The mayor gives a speech about resilience and community. The fire chief talks about the bravery of the responders who contained the blaze. And then Gina from the festival committee calls me up to the stage to talk about the cake.
I hesitate, but Piper gives me a gentle push. "Go. They want to hear from you."
I make my way to the stage, my heart pounding. Public speaking has never been my thing, but when I look out at the crowd and see the faces of people I've known my entire life, people who have supported me through the worst moments of my existence, the words come easier than I expected.
"Three years ago, I lost my wife in a wildfire," I say, and the crowd goes quiet. "And for a long time, I didn't know how to move forward. I didn't know how to be a father without her.I didn't know how to run a business or live in a town that reminded me of everything I lost."
I pause, looking for Piper in the crowd. She is standing near the front, holding Maddie's hand, and when our eyes meet, she nods encouragingly.
"But this town didn't let me fall apart," I continue. "You held me up. You showed up at my bakery. You checked on Maddie. You reminded me that even in the middle of grief, there is still love. Still community. Still hope."
My voice cracks slightly, but I push through. "The phoenix on this cake represents all of us. Every person who lost something in those fires and chose to rebuild anyway. Every person who looked at the ashes and decided to rise. This cake is for you. For what we survived. For what we built together."
The crowd erupts in applause, and I step down from the stage before the emotion in my chest can spill over.
Piper meets me at the bottom of the steps and throws her arms around my neck. "That was perfect."
"I almost cried in front of the entire town," I mutter.
"They loved it," she says. "They loved you."
Maddie crashes into both of us, and we stand there in a group hug while the applause continues around us.
The restof the festival passes in a blur.
I shake hands with what feels like every person in Valentine. I answer questions about the cake. I pose for photos with survivors and families and the mayor. Piper films everything,capturing moments I'll want to remember later when the adrenaline wears off.
Evan finds me near the barbecue stand and claps me on the shoulder. "You did well, man. Really good."
"Thanks," I say. "Could not have done it without you."
"I know," he says with a grin. "But it's nice to hear you say it."
Rebecca from the yoga studio appears with Mara and Jill in tow. "Dylan Hayes, that was the most beautiful speech I've ever heard."
"It was all right," I say, uncomfortable with the attention.
"It was perfect," Mara corrects. "And we are all very happy that Piper is staying."
"How do you know she is staying?" I ask.
