There are picture frames everywhere on tables, the walls, on shelves. She really likes holding onto memories.
I wonder if she would want to frame a picture of us one day? A memory of this summer, of us.
After a minute or so, I find my way to her bedroom, her yellow floral bed set made perfectly with matching wooden nightstands on either side.
On both nightstands, she has more picture frames—the one closest to me is a photo of her and her mom when she was a kidat the zoo. She’s on her mom’s shoulder, looking and pointing at the tiger in view. That makes my heart warm.
Walking to the side of her bed, I hold her tight with one arm while the other pulls back the comforter. I hate to think about it, but I can’t help wondering if she’s ever had anyone else in here, in her bed.
I feel a pit in my stomach about her being with any guy that isn’t me.
But I remind myself that right now, all that matters is getting Maisie to sleep and making sure she’s safe and sound.
I lean down and lay her on the floral sheets then slip off her shoes, setting them next to her nightstand.
Before I do something stupid like slip under the sheets and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, I pull the comforter over Maisie and tuck her in.
Moving a stray hair out of her butterfly painted face, I do something a friend wouldn’t and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead and then force myself to leave.
I lock her front door and leave her house key under the mat and send her a text before I forget. Getting back in my truck and turning on the ignition, my mind starts to wander.
It wanders to the picture perfect day I had with Maisie.
It wanders to when we first met.
It wanders to when I’ll evidently have to say goodbye.
Small towns have never been for me. I know I’m leaving and she deserves someone who will stay with her here in Ruby Lake, but something in the air has me thinking I could stay here for good.
18
MAISIE
“You’re telling me you went ontheferris wheel?” My mom gasps as we make dinner. “Like the same one we got stuck on all those years ago, right?”
“I’m just as shocked as you are,” I say as I grate some mozzarella into a bowl. “And I didn’t have a panic attack.”
“That’s amazing, sweetie.”
Sunday’s are special in the Winslow household as it’s our weekly family dinner where we make a new pasta dish. Tonight, we’re trying a macaroni and cheese dish I saw online that everyone was raving about.
Even though we work together and live on the same property, we always make sure we have time for family. Sometimes Kevin and Wren come over but most of the time, it’s just us two.
“I, um—” I pause. “Henry took me.”
“The new Bellwood boy?” She gasps. “Maisie! Why would you leave such important news out?!”
“I didn’t think it was a huge deal.” Even though it was to me. I just didn’t think it would be to anyone else.
“You’re telling me Mr. Beauty, Brawn, and Brain took my little girl on a date and you didn’t think it’d be a bigdeal?” Thelook on her face is one I’ve seen many times growing up. One that screams “be so serious”.
“It wasn’t a date,” I correct.
“I bet you my last dying breath that that boy wishes it was,” she sing songs with a smile on her face as she stirs the boiling pasta.
“Knock, knock!” Wren chimes from the doorway, a bottle of wine in hand that gives me flashbacks to the last night we drank.
“Wren!” My mom gleams. “I thought you were staying home tonight?”
