Page 154 of Again, In Autumn

The crowd gasps and whispers to themselves, a rumble of conversation and yelling. Their eyes, and hands, are on him as he moves through them to get to me.

My stomach tightens, nervous.

He stops an inch from my face and immediately asks, “You got my letter?

“Yes,” I say, unable to tear my eyes from his. I bite my lip. “I’m sorry, Adam, I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Me too,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“No, I shouldn’t have let you leave. You were right about everything.” My eyes flood as I say something I haven’t in fourteen years. “I love you, Adam.”

Adam closes his eyes, breathing it in. His arms scoop around me, pressing our heads together, whispering, “I hoped so.”

The crowd cheers and hollers when he pulls back to meet me on the mouth.

I’m tightened in his arms. My hands run through his hair and a tear rolls down the side of my face, and he kisses me in a way that feels unrushed, not heady or lustful, not careful at all. It’s our mistletoe kiss if we’d been allowed to give in more. He kisses me like he knows my mouth will be his to touch forever.

Because it will be.

Epilogue

It’s July on the lake. Sunny, sticky, hot. David says some other house across the way typically puts on a firework display, but Francesca’s insisting that he go to the store and get some for us to set off.

“We need to celebrate!” she says, waving her margarita around.

David eyes the box of sparklers on the ground. “That should be fine for the kids. What are we celebrating, exactly?”

She’s sitting in a lawn chair beside me, tickling her red, white and blue fingernails on my knee. “This is the first summer Vee has been back to the lake. We didn’t do this last year. My dad is with us. That’s a lot to celebrate.”

I glance at my father. His hand is on Alice’s back, helping her climb the planks of the tree house. He’s not in a suit, for once, but his legs are completely covered and it’s ninety-five degrees out. He smiles when she grabs Grayson’s telescope, pretending to be a pirate.

We’ve not spoken since Thanksgiving. We exchanged polite nods, but that’s it. He’s always been more comfortable with Francesca, more likely to stay a day longer for Christmas with the kids. I couldn’t have been more shocked to see him arrive yesterday.

Maybe one day he’ll tell me why he doesn’t approve of Adam, why he never came home, why he didn’t care for us enough. Maybe I’ll ask him about my mother, what she meant to him. For now, we’re in the same room and there’s been zero bloodshed or name calling or a single mention of the incident last Autumn.

David argues, “I’m not setting off explosions.”

“Fireworks, Dave,” she corrects.

“They’re explosive devices and they’re dangerous. Haven’t you seen those Ring camera videos?” He makes an exasperated sound. “When did I become the safe one? You’ve swung way too far the other way.”

She sings, “You’ve created a monster.”

“Dinner is ready!” Heddy calls out from the back door.

Kate lays on a towel in the yard, her skin pinker than her bikini. “Vee, will you fix me a plate?” she begs.

I brush chip dust off my jean shorts. I tip some out from the fold in my tank top. “Sure. Are you gluten-free this month?”

She thinks on it. “Not today.”

“Dairy free?”

“Actually, I think my body functions better on cheese.”

I agree, “Me too.”

“Two hot dogs, please,” she says flipping to her stomach.

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