He nods. “They’ll see it as their chance to brush up on their skills. The next singles meetup is at a karaoke beach bar.”
“No way, that’s hilarious.” I can’t say I’m sorry I’ll be missing out on it. As fun as it was to sing with Beau and the kids at his place, I have no mind to do such a thing in public. We grab a grocery basket and pick up a grape Gatorade, a Red Bull, and some pickle-flavored sunflower seeds for Beau. As I settle in front of the fountain drinks, Beau sets down the basket and wraps his arms around me from behind, burrowing his face against my neck.
“I really missed you,” he croons.
Delicious chills ripple up my arms. “I missed you too.”
“I told you how the next meetup is at the karaoke bar,” he says, “but I didn’t tell you the best part.” He encourages me to spin with the alternate press and pull of my hips.
“What’s that?” I say once we’re face to face.
“The fact that we don’t have to go.” And with that, amidst the gas station goodies and strangers passing by, Beau gives me another fairytale kiss, inspiring the name of a new book—If You Build the Caterpillar a Cocoon.
EPILOGUE
CHRISTMAS
Beau
I glance around my dining room as satisfaction swells in my chest. Sitting beside me is Kirsten, who’s tipping her head back in laughter as Parker and Jack show her funny online Christmas pranks just for the occasion.
“Why don’t we cast them to the TV so everyone can see them at the same time?” Jack asks while shooting glances toward a bored-looking Greg and Trish across the table.
“That’s a good idea,” Kirsten says.
“But then it’s karaoke,” Paige belts from the adjacent family room. She’s already setting the stage down there. Microphones, speakers, and the laptop are ready to go.
My brow furrows as I inspect the floor for the Christmas jammies she had on moments ago. Must be on the bathroom floor, I decide, eyeing the poufy-looking gown she’s donned for her performance.
Those of us at the table make our way to the seating area. Parker and Jack get the pranks playing from the big screen once we’ve all taken a seat. I catch myself cracking up at some of the goofy pranks. Everything from shaving cream in the palm of a sleeping teen and plastic wrap stretched across a doorway to pranks with props like fake spiders and fake poo. When the artificial vomit comes into play, I resist the urge to retell the tale of Kirsten’s projectile performance in the woods, but once Trish and Greg are gone, I’m letting that baby loose.
Still, what makes each clip all the better, is the laughter of Parker, Paige, and Jack. Kirsten’s laugh warms me, too. Makes me glad I’m not with the ornery woman in the corner seat tapping on her phone screen with a set of wicked icicle nails.
I watch a second longer to see Greg reflexively tug his phone from his pocket and shoot a look at Trish—who’s sitting right by his side—after peeking at the screen. He rolls his eyes, reads the text, then leans over. His lips are easy enough to read. Heck, I could have said it along with him, I know Trish so well.
“We’ll go in a minute.”
The truth is, we’re supposed to switch off with the kids for holidays, and it’s my and Kirsten’s turn. But we figured we’d spread a little goodwill and invite Greg and Trish for a Christmas brunch. Okay, so it was Parker and Jack’s idea. They’re better peacemakers than we are, but we’re learning.
Trish endures a few moments more to watch Paige sing two of her songs. She’s determined to leave after that, which is probably for the best. Kirsten and I plan to singSomewhere Only We Knowby Keane. It’s a winner, and it reminds me of the crazy way Kirsten came into my life. When we’re together, it truly feels like we’re in a place all our own, far from the past and hurt we left behind.
Once we say our goodbyes to Trish and Greg, we hurry into the kitchen for cleanup duty. Paige pulls on a pair of elbow-high dish gloves for kids, complete with pink hearts and sparkles, and joins me at the sink. Parker clears the table while Jack sweeps the floor. Kirsten wraps up the food, setting some aside for when my family and Kirsten’s sister come by later.
Kirsten and I are sort of hoping that Maggie and Braxton will hit it off. We have the perfect plan to arrange it, too. Maggie is looking for someone to help build another addition to the Coffee Loft, and Braxton happens to be in construction. What could go wrong?
Once the kitchen’s cleaned up, I spot Kirsten heading into the washroom with a stack of placemats in her grip.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Paige as she bites the tip of her glove to remove it.
I’m quick to follow Kirsten into the washroom and close the door behind us.
At once, she spins around and gasps, letting me know I startled her.
“Sorry,” I say with a grin, “but I’ve been trying to get you alone all morning.”
“Oh, yeah?” She backs her way toward the washing machine until her shoes bump the bottom edge.
“Yeah,” I assure her, taking the placemats from her grip and tossing them into the nearby bin.
