She didn’t know what to say to that. “What do you want, Donnie?”
A chasm of silence yawned between them. Apparently, he couldn’t decide how to answer her question.
Strange how life goes. This time the sight of him brought none of the anguish the mere thought of him used to cause her. And the complete lack of pain she felt at this moment had her realizing that the impossible had finally happened.
She was completely over Donnie Bell. Only an echo of sadness remained.
And that echo? Mostly from the loss of the friendship they’d shared as kids—the two of them a team, a couple of awkward poor kids from Bronco Valley. Kings of West Street, they used to call themselves. They would race their battered secondhand bikes up and down the block, flying so fast they swore no one could catch them.
Down by the narrow creek that ran behind Donnie’s house, they’d built a fort of willow branches tied together with strips of bark. In their fort, they would whisper to each other of the things they wanted most. A trip to Disney World and a new bike for him. And for her, a good dad, one who didn’t disappear from her life without warning, never to return.
“Just wanted to congratulate you on becoming Miss Bronco,” Donnie said at last, drawing her out of the lost world of memory, plopping her down in the here and now.
“Thanks. It’s an all-new experience for me, and I’m pretty much playing it by ear.”
“Donnie!” a slender, pretty, harried-looking blonde shouted from maybe thirty feet away. Pushing a toddler in a stroller, with a baby in a sling attached to the front of her and a little girl of maybe seven or so running along beside her, Donnie’s wife, Maura, came rushing toward them.
The little girl kept tugging on Maura’s arm. “Mommy, pink popcorn. I want the pink popcorn.”
Maura shushed her and kept on coming. The toddler in the stroller had started to fuss. As Maura pulled the stroller to a stop next to her husband, the toddler squawked louder.
The little girl turned to her father. “Daddy, can youpleasebuy me the pink popcorn!”
“Sure, princess,” said Donnie. He stroked a big hand down her fine blond hair. “Just give us a minute here.”
“Vanessa,” said Maura, bending to stick a binky in the toddler’s mouth and then straightening up with a tight little smile. “Congratulations—on the Miss Bronco thing?”
“Thank you.”
“A lot of people were beyond stunned when Earl called your name the other day. I mean, you didn’t even enter the contest, and you never were exactly the beauty queen type, now were you? But you look great. Have you lost weight?”
Vanessa managed not to roll her eyes. “Maura,youhaven’t changed a bit.”
“Yes, well, I try to keep fit—and with these three little broncos, what choice do I have? Being a mom’s a big job.” She frowned. “But you never even got married, did you?”
“Nope. Still single. Somebody has to have all the fun, right?”
Maura narrowed her sharp eyes, most likely trying to decide whether Van had just insulted her. In the end, she simply scoffed and turned to her husband. “Come on, now. We can’t stand here forever. My parents are waiting.”
Donnie sent Van the strangest look—a little sad. And way too weary for a man of only twenty-seven. “Good to see you, Nessa.”
“’Bye, Donnie.” Van watched them walk away, the toddler starting to fuss again, the little girl still demanding pink popcorn. Yeah, she really had loved Donnie once. It was young love, fierce and passionate, the kind of love that feels destined to last forever.
But it hadn’t lasted. Donnie had betrayed her. Twice.
And now, for the first time in the years since it all blew apart with him, she found she really wanted to let all the hurt go, get past the memory of the mean girls whispering behind their hands, pointing at her, laughing at first—and later writing rotten things on her locker with red nail polish, calling her the worst sorts of names, tormenting her, putting her through the high school version of hell.
Today, for the first time, she felt she could almost forgive Donnie’s initial betrayal—the one where he showed up one Wednesday morning for advanced biology with his arm around Maura Flannigan after whispering words of love to Van on Tuesday night.
As for his second, more brutal act of treachery, that one still got to her when she let herself think about it. After that second betrayal, she’d stopped being a laughingstock and become the object of outright scorn and hatred. Forgiveness came harder for that.
But it had all happened so long ago. Better to let the hurt go, wish the man well—maybe not for his sake, but for the sake of those three little kids of his. Innocent children needed a loving dad they could count on.
And who was she kidding? No, Van couldn’t completely forgive Donnie yet. But she liked to think she was getting there.
For the next few hours, Van sat with her family, enjoying the brownies and coffee she and Callie had bought from one of the booths. Afternoon faded to early evening, and the first star appeared in the clear Montana sky.
Winona leaned close to her. “Make a wish upon a star, sweetheart.”
