“Oh. The whole lot.” Amy risked a glance at them all staring back at her. “Of course I am. I love my family, I just…”
“Can’t escape them.”
“I mean…” She sheepishly glanced back at them. “Obviously. That has been the staycation theme, hasn’t it?”
“Maybe, if you set some boundaries, and your family agreed to them, you could have the best of both worlds? Just an idea, but…a family side and a creative side? Because I think both are important to you. But…without this family, I think it would be a pretty lonely existence in this world. I know the art is important to you. But I also know that life can be hard, and what you have here is real. You’re lucky.”
“Everything I have here is real,” she said, her eyes locked on his.
His heart skipped. It had been doing that a lot lately, every time he looked in her eyes. He was going to miss this.
“Hel-lo-oh. We’re over here.” Ryan had appeared, interrupting their conversation. “Care to join us?” Amy’s eyes were still on Harrison. Her mouth twitched up in a wry smile. So did his. They truly did get one another. “Sure,” she said, and turned to face her family. She thanked the Posse for their apology and said it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. Barb took slight offense to that, but for the most part, she was pleased that Amy accepted her apology.
It was chaos, the rest of it, as they packed things up. Some were returning to the house, the boys wanting to swim in a heated pool. Some were headed back to Willow Valley, including the ex, Amy’s father, and Kevin. It seemed to take forever, but finally, the minivan and SUV were headed back down the drive, leaving Amy, Harrison, and Duchess.
Amy put Duchess in her minivan, then turned to Harrison. She shoved her hands in her pockets and smiled sadly. “So…I guess after you’ve patched things up between me and my family—and thank you for that, by the way—that this is it?”
“This is it for now,” Harrison insisted. But even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew they probably weren’t true.
“Do you really believe that?” she asked, reading his mind—and how did she do that?
“Wow,” he said, chuckling. “We can’t be together, Amy. We seem to have one brain between us and that’s not enough for two geniuses.”
She laughed and slid her arms around his waist. “Do you promise you’ll call?”
“Is every day too often?”
“It’s hardly enough.” Tears appeared in her eyes, and she cursed softly under her breath. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I’m a grown-up. I get it. Life happens and never turns out like we thought. But I’m really going to miss you, H.”
He smoothed her hair back with his palm. “I’m going to miss you, too. So much.”
“Still…why would the universe allow you to meet someone who could really be the one, but in the middle of a life? Is it punking us?”
“I have wondered the same damn thing.”
She pressed her forehead to his chest. “Where do you go from here?”
“Miami. Pack up a few things and head to Scotland. Then after that, to California for a tournament. Who knows, maybe even see my parents. What about you?”
“Big plans,” she said. “Back to work on Monday. I’ll do some last-minute shopping for stocking stuffers before I attack what I am sure is mountains of laundry. Take my paintings over to the gallery town hall for the contest. And that’s all before I clean the bathrooms.”
He kissed her temple. “Stop it. You’re turning me on.” He hugged her tightly to him. She hugged him back. He could feel her shaking slightly, and tightened his grip of her. “It’s okay, Amy,” he murmured into her hair.
“It’s not okay.”
“It’s not okay, but we’ll live, I think.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You better live. You better be alive when I come to visit you.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
He slipped his hand under her chin and lifted her face. “Promise me you’ll be alive.”
“Fine,” she said tartly. “I promise I’ll be alive if you promise you’ll come visit.”
“I promise.” He kissed her. He kissed her for a long time, with all thetenderness he felt. When he finally let her go, he could feel a universe empty out of him. He could feel the cold front approaching from Canada, bringing the heaviness of snow. He could feel how empty and sullen he was.
