Keep following.
—V
Betty’s boothis overflowing with people, which isn’t unusual. What’s unusual is the banner above it.
The Casserole That Started It All.
Betty herself is beaming at me, tears making her eyes shimmer. If she’s not careful, she’s going to infect her tuna mac casserole with her salty emotions.
“He came to us first, you know,” she says, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “The night you fainted. He was all sharp edges and suspicion, but I could tell. I could tell he was looking for something.” She presses a hand to her heart. “He was searching for you.”
Moose is standing beside her, stoic as ever, but he nods once in confirmation.
“He asked me once what makes someone belong,” Moose says quietly. “I told him it’s not about where you’re from. It’s about where you’re willing to stay.”
Betty hands me another envelope, a small container of honey, and a new letter. “From the apiaries outside town. Valen helped harvest it himself. Said something about honeybees and homecomings.” She pulls me into a hug so tight I can barely breathe. “Go on now. Pops is up next.”
Honeybee,
This town fed me before they trusted me. They handed me casseroles and suspicion in equal measure, and somehow the casseroles won.
They taught me that family isn’t only by blood. Family can be the people who show up at three a.m. with food and opinions and absolutely no respect for personal boundaries.
They taught me what it means to belong.
Keep following.
—V
Pops isat the dunk tank, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a grin that suggests he’s been in on the secret for too long and he doesn’t know if he can keep it in much longer but he’s loving every second of it.
“Took you long enough!” he calls out. “I’ve been standing here so long my britches are itching. Do you know how many people have tried to dunk Greyson? Zero. Because they’re all too busy watching you wander around crying. But trust me, everyone wants to dunk Greyson.”
“Not as much as they want to dunk you,” Greyson calls back. These two may never see eye to eye, but there’s no denying the amount of love they have for one another buried under all that frustration.
“Play nice,” Savvy hisses at them. “You’re making her cry.”
“I’m not crying,” I say, wiping my face.
“Sure you’re not.” Pops hands me an envelope and a snow globe. Not just any snow globe—this one has a sticker on the bottom that says it’s from a Charlotte area hospital. “He’s been collecting these for you. Every time he travels for work, he brings one back. He stops at every gift shop he can find. Did you see all the ones at the welcome sign?”
“Get to the point, Pops,” Greyson shouts from his perch in the dunk tank. “You’re skipping over the most important part.”
“I’m gettin’ there, ya ninny,” Pops calls over his shoulder. “Anyway,” he says, turning back to me. “He bought this one on his way out of the hospital when he was a teen.”
Savvy steps up next to me. “You’ve always resided in his heart, Clove. Now he’s ready to stand by your side too.”
I’m finding it really hard to speak. All the times he thought of me, even when we were apart, are displayed through these happy balls of glitter. It’s overwhelming me in the best way possible because this is love.
“Chief’s next,” Pops says, jerking his thumb toward the cram-the-cruiser booth. “And Clover? Whatever happens…” His voice softens in a way I’ve rarely heard. “You deserve this. All of it.” He presses the large target, and Greyson falls into the icy water.
I’m so choked up I have to swipe my nose with the back of my hand. So much for looking cute today. I’m pretty sure I now rival something fromStranger Things. I read the next letter through tear-filled eyes.
Honeybee,
You collect snow globes because each one holds a tiny world of happiness.
I want to build that for you. Not a tiny world, but a real one. A life where every day feels like shaking the globe and watching the sparkles fall.
