But the heavy smell of smoke lingered, and the ash turned to sludge from the steady rains that began falling two weeks later. Adam couldn’t handle it, so he made the heartbreaking decision to leave…
And he never looked back.
Chapter Thirteen
Adam
There’s something satisfying about home improvements. I quite enjoy taking a trip to the local hardware store and finding the right tool or plumbing fixture I need to repair Keri’s childhood home. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve made it my mission to update and improve the electrical and plumbing features of the ancient house in the country, and I couldn’t be happier. I have a purpose and a plan to turn the old homestead into something wonderful that could potentially attract a buyer, if that’s what she still plans to do.
I wouldn’t have started these projects if it hadn’t been for Keri. When I suggested changing the rusty faucet in the kitchen, she told me to go for it. And when I discovered the dilapidated barn in the back meadow filled with her father’s tools and dusty workstation, she encouraged me to use whatever I wanted. Itook her up on her offer and have been piddling around the property, fixing things, ever since.
Keri’s been busy too. Lately, she’s been staying at the house with me instead of her apartment in town. The day the new bedframe and mattress arrived, I knew she was considering moving back full-time into her childhood home—with me. But I’m not going to push her. Each day, she goes into town to work, and right at five-fifteen, she arrives with a tote bag filled with personal items and clothes, or several shopping bags stuffed with new pillows and towels, kitchen gadgets, and rugs. Each day, she brings a new item into the home and a new glimmer of hope into my heart.
Looking back on my exodus from California, I knew it was the best decision for me at the time. But sometimes doing what’s best for you won’t always feel the best. For two years, I’ve agonized over my choices. I put my property up for sale and cashed in my late wife’s life insurance. I left my only family, my cousin, Roxy. I took an open-ended sabbatical from my agent, Dan Combs, in LA. The best decision I made was adopting Molly right after the fires. She was caged in a makeshift shelter among the rubble of our decimated town. A lost pet, whose owners never came forward to claim her in the aftermath of the tragedy. We’ve been nomads ever since, trying to find our way. And now it finally,finallyfeels like we’ve landed.
Keri and I are finding our way too. Two souls with no one else to cling to. I want to love her gently in the softest way possible. I want her to know that I’m genuinely interested in her day and how she likes her unsweet tea with two lemon wedges. I want her to love the outdoors as much as I do and to find happiness inthe simplicity of camping under the stars. To say, I’m picking up more of Mr. Garcia’s salsa for dinner. I want her to sing along to my favorite songs and stay calm when I wake from my recurring nightmares. I want her to look at me when I’m not looking. To come and grab me and make me dance when we’re cooking in the kitchen. To wear my pale blue flannel with the ripped elbows over her naked body in the mornings. I want to bring her wildflowers just because and twist her long hair around my fingers when we’re lying next to each other in the quiet of the night.
I want to love Keri gently and watch her paint her toes while she’s sitting on the green sofa with her nose scrunched in concentration. I want to hold her hand on dates and order her favorite drink from Miss Janie at the Tipsy Daisy before her glass gets empty. I want to say the words, “I love you,” out loud and choose her every single day for the rest of my life.
I’m getting there.
I’ll find the right moment to confess that I knew she was the one on that first day I saw her through the antique glass of Miss Jenny’s café. Back then, it was too early to say it to her face. But I knew it in my gut. She really is a beautiful angel who dropped out of heaven to save me, and I’ve been keeping my true feelings close to my chest until the right time. For now, as I focus on improving our special home out in the country, I’ll hold onto that hope for the future.
It’s funny how this place reminds me of my house in the California foothills, even though they couldn’t be more opposite. Instead of a forest, we’re surrounded by meadows and fenceposts. Instead of traveling on the side of a mountain to get here, we drive on flat dirt roads with craggy divots and potholes that can flatten a tire in seconds if you’re driving too fast. I love it here, and now that Keri has pretty much moved in with me, I’m finding that I feel a strong sense of belonging. I want to plant roots and settle down permanently. I’m developing deep connections with the townspeople, including Jenny and Janie, Ridge and Beverly, and George and Madison.
Imagine looking back one day and realizing you were brave enough to chase the life you truly wanted, and it worked. That’s what I want. I want to build my new life here in Heartsboro and plant roots with Keri by my side. I can only hope and pray she wants the same thing.
I stand in the old barn, wiping down some of Keri’s father’s tools with a rag. Earlier, I found a dusty transistor radio on a shelf, replaced its batteries, and let the AM station crackle with classic country music. Now, sunlight filters through cracks in the siding, highlighting dust swirling in the air. Molly lies contentedly on the threshold, her snout resting on her paws, eyes fixed on the fields beyond the sliding door.
My cell phone pings with a message. I set the large wrench and rag on the workbench and fish it out of my overalls. My smile is immediate.
Hey, handsome. I’ll be home early. Don’t forget dinner with the Wilsons.
I text her back a thumbs-up emoji. We’ve had dinner at Ridge and Beverly’s a few times. Evenings there are always fun, spent under the shade trees in their backyard. Ridge grills something meaty in his outdoor kitchen, and Bev chases their son, Roman. I’m thankful Ridge doesn’t bring up our time together when I was his photographer for his “Sexiest Man Alive” spread forPeoplemagazine. The past stays in the past, and I prefer it that way.
My phone pings again.George and Madison are coming too. I might as well get an entire cake at Miss Jenny’s, don’t you think?
I chuckle, knowing Keri is overthinking. Tonight is for friends and fellowship. Her volunteering to bring dessert is a surprise. I’ve never seen Keri bake. She’s more of a take-out girl. She reassured me there’s no need to bake when she can walk across the street and grab one of Miss Jenny’s decadent cakes.
I text her back.Get the whole cake. Leftovers!
She instantly sends me heart eyes.
I turn off the radio and the overhead, single bulb hanging from the barn rafters. “Come on, Molly. Let’s go.”
The retriever stands on all fours and shakes, her collar jingling in the action. I slide the doors closed, and we amble our way through the meadow, toward the house on the horizon. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I wonder if Keri has changed her mind about the cake.
“Did you decide on pie instead?” I laugh.
“Pie? What are you talking about?”
I stop in my tracks when I realize it’s Roxy on the line. The sudden shift catches me off guard. “Rox. Hey… how are you?” I should’ve looked at my phone before I answered. I’m not ready to get another earful from my cousin.
“I’m well. How are you?”
I reach down and rub Molly’s neck. “I’m good.”
“Good.”
