The sky is a soft, hazy peach above Lake Superior, and the waves are hitting the cliffs in slow, steady breaths. Grandma Donna is already there, her knitting needles clicking lightly, a small basket of yarn at her feet.
When she looks up and sees me, her whole face brightens. “Hello, dear. I’m so happy to see you. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“I’m not on the schedule,” I say, suddenly shy. “Is it okay if I sit down?”
“Of course, dear. Have a seat.” She pats the empty spot beside her. “What’s on your mind?”
The words come out before I can organize them. “I think I just…can’t believe this is my life.” My voice wavers, and my throat goes thick. “It’s so wonderful. And I almost feel scared that it’s all going to go away because I’ve never been this happy.”
My eyes blur, and I blink quickly, but the tears win anyway.
Grandma Donna pats my hand and reaches into her yarn basket. “Happiness is a funny thing,” she says, fingers working with slow steadiness. “People think it comes with certainty, but it doesn’t. Happiness is a decision, but it’s also a risk. It’s a leap of faith.”
I swipe at my cheek. “A leap of faith?”
“Mmm.” She nods. “Most people think suffering is the brave thing. Getting through hardship, surviving loss, enduring disappointment…and there is certainly courage in that. But there’s a special kind of bravery in letting yourself enjoy something good without constantly preparing for it to disappear.”
She glances at me and smiles.
“The love, the work, the peace. None of this is an accident,” she says. “You walked through fire to get here—quite literally, in some ways.” She gives me a soft smile. “And life didn’t hand you this happiness just to snatch it away. Sometimes good things come and stay, dear.”
Her knitting needles pause.
“And sometimes,” she adds, “you just have to let yourself believe you deserve them.”
I take a shaky breath, and it clears space inside me.
Without announcing it, she switches yarn colors and begins shaping something small, square, and soft. After a minute, she hands it to me—a knitted tissue holder in warm, variegated shades of lake-water blue.
“For your purse,” she says. “In case you have more of those ‘I love my life’ breakdowns. I hope they happen often.”
A laugh bursts out of me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.” She pats my knee, warm and reassuring. “I’m so glad you’re here. You make our boy so happy. And Chloe is the delight of all of our lives. Don’t wait for the sky to fall. You’re on solid ground here.”
I tuck the little knitted cover into my bag like it’s something sacred.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
DREAMING OUT LOUD
DYLAN
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Dahlia says, kissing me before we head in different directions for the day.
“Me too. And you know what makes me really happy?” I nuzzle her neck.
“What?” she says, laughing.
“That you call this home. I’d be happy anywhere that you are, but…it feels pretty nice here, doesn’t it?”
She leans her head on my chest and exhales. “I love it here,” she says. She looks up and grins at me. “I have to pinch myself daily over the fact that I’m here, that this is my life, that I have a man like you…”
I put my hands on her cheeks. “Dahlia, you have me in every way possible. I am yours.”
We kiss, and the world fades away…until a swish of movement goes by, and I open my eyes to see Tully speed-walking past me.
