Page 69 of Willow in the Wind

This house is filled with love.

The beeper sounded, and Stella bent down to retrieve the croissants. She’d made them herself, which meant that her apron was coated with flour and dough, and her anxiety was high due to the difficulty level. Her mother had said,You should really just buy croissants. It’s too much of a hassle.But they’d risen crisply and golden, ready for gooey bites.

“What’s that heavenly smell?” Matt appeared in the kitchen holding several empty glasses. He wrapped his arms around Stella and kissed her tenderly on the back of the neck and the cheek.

Stella closed her eyes and twirled around to kiss him. It still felt sensational and new to kiss him—this man, the love of her life. How many times had she kissed him over the years? One hundred thousand? A million? Their kids weren’t even grossed out by it anymore. They were just so pleased.

“People are begging for refills,” Matt said of the empty glasses. “I said I’d play bartender this time.”

“Good thing we have plenty of wine to go around,” Stella said, hurrying around to fetch another few red and white bottles.

“I have to admit,” Matt said as he drained a bottle of red. “Our children don’t have a musical bone in their bodies.”

Out in the living room, Logan or Chloe hit several wrong notes on the piano and cackled. But they were undeterred. They were going to make it to the end of the song.

“We’ve taught them about perseverance, I guess,” Stella joked.

“Maybe we should have taught them to know when to quit,” Matt shot back.

Stella chortled just as Aunt Esme entered with her cousin Bethany in tow. Bethany was a surgeon at Nantucket Hospitaland had worked all the way through the holiday season until today. In Stella’s mind, that meant she got the first croissant.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Bethany said, taking the biggest and gooiest. “I was just telling Mom, I’m beat. But I finally had a chance to read your book this morning. Stella! It’s amazing.”

Matt slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed her. “It’s a work of art. I’m so proud of her.”

“I’m just glad the book tour’s over,” Stella admitted. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for all that travel.”

“In your book, you seem ready for travel at a moment’s notice!” Bethany said.

“I was twenty-one.” Stella sighed. “Now, I like my own bed.”

And I like to have Matt in that bed with me.

Matt and Stella delivered glasses of wine to their family members. Rebecca and Valerie stole Stella away for a little while, begging her for more info on her book tour.

“You were interviewed by some of the best in the podcasting world,” Rebecca said, bug-eyed. “And you didn’t even answer their questions!”

“Right? I was amazed by that. You stood so strong,” Valerie said.

“My agent wasn’t pleased,” Stella admitted. “Gwen wanted me to go in there and give them every scrap of myself. But I wanted to retain a little dignity, you know?”

Rebecca and Valerie nodded.

And then Valerie snapped her fingers. “I meant to tell you this. It’s a funny story.”

“Uh-oh.” Stella read something sinister in Valerie’s eyes.

“It was years ago in San Francisco,” Valerie said. “There was a major music award show happening, and I was in charge of hosting the music journalists in town to write about it.”

Stella’s heart began to pound. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going.

“I can see how frightened you are.” Valerie laughed. “I did meet James that night. He was honored for an interview with Liam Gallagher, and I congratulated him on the piece but told him I’d never been an Oasis fan.” Valerie cackled.

Stella giggled, too. “Uh-oh.”

“He launched into a big tirade about the importance of Oasis in nineties British pop,” Valerie said. “I was like, ‘shut up!’ But he laughed after about two minutes and said, ‘My daughter told me to get over Oasis. I’m trying. But it’s hard.’ And I remember what I said. I said, ‘You never get over your first love.’ And he gave me this strange and beautiful look. And then, he whipped out a photograph of his sailboat and said, ‘I named my boat after my first love. I doubt she ever remembers me.’”

“What a strange story,” Stella breathed.

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