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“So you taught him how to bake bread.”

“Yeah. It took me a while to figure out where he could be staying and why he needed to do this. But then one time he forgot himself, and when he moved the phone, I saw that photo you have in your kitchen. The one with the band and your parents in front of that big fir tree in the driveway.”

I close my eyes.

“Noëlle.”

“Well, now you know. Trust me when I say this. You don’t learn how to bake bread for someone unless you really care about them.”

I stare at my untouched cinnamon roll, swallowing past the lump forming in my throat.

“We’ve… We’ve been together, sort of, for a long time. Ten years. But it was just for fun, you know.”

“Let me guess, no-strings?”

“Yeah. And then he showed up at my apartment two weeks before Thanksgiving. We’d never spent so much time together. I thought I felt…things because what we were doing was a secret and it was somewhat exciting.”

She puts her hand on mine. “Even I know you’re not the no-strings kind of guy.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Anyway, why are you so gloomy?”

“The band went to New York last week, and I’ve been so scared that he’s going to leave and go back on the road that I haven’t asked him a single question about any of it. I’ve just been waiting for him to tell me it’s over.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No.”

“Finn.”

“I know.”

Her hand tightens on mine. “I don’t know anything about music industry stuff. But I can tell Fox is in love with you. Talk to him.”

“Yeah, I probably should.”

“Finn, I mean it. Even if he’s leaving. Talk to him. Ask him. Let him tell you what he wants.”

I nod. “You’re right. Thank you.”

Noëlle stands and then kisses my cheek like a wise old mother. I laugh because I’m older than her by a few months.

“Eat your cinnamon roll. It’s going to be a busy last day of the festival for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She goes back behind the counter.

I eat the cinnamon roll in about six bites while staring out the window at Main Street. My chest is lighter than it has been in weeks. Maybe years.

I’m going to talk to Fox.

Maybe the band is going back on tour. Maybe not. Maybe I won’t get to have him all the time, but he drove across the country to see me, and he learned to bake bread for me. If what I get is Fox coming back to Winterberry every time he can, then I want that. I want whatever he can give me.

I want to know I’m not doing this alone.

Before I drive to the festival, I stop by the office and catch up with my emails. More importantly, I set my out-of-office notification because after tonight, I’m not doing any work until after Christmas.