Page 95 of Skating and Fake Dating
I’m right back where I started—the family failure, the hot mess, bog monster, goofball—in my childhood bedroom. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, draped with a feather boa from Halloween in high school, random photos from over the years, and spotty twinkle lights, trying to convince myself that I’ve grown up, that I’m making adult decisions, and not trying to prove myself.
Instead, memories of my time with Carson fill my mind—him defending me to my family, him encouraging my maple butter business, and the way he looked at me when he thought I didn’t notice.
But instead of sulking for another second, I go to Nanna’s house, take Tiny on a long walk, and then stoke the logs in the fire before busying myself with a special batch of maple butter. But the empty space beside me becomes unbearable until my grandmother comes home.
Without so much as an introduction, she says, “You know, your grandfather and I occupied different worlds, too. I was headed to college and he was a farmer’s son who never finished high school. Everyone said it would fail.”
“But your relationship was perfect.”
She shakes her head. “No, our love was perfect because we wanted what was best for each other, no matter what.”
“Then why didn’t you go to college?”
“Because that wasn’t what was best for me. Your grandfather’s love was. Our relationship was my life’s work. Not some silly degree.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted?”
She winks. “It’s what was expected of me.”
“Didn’t you feel bad that you didn’t go out there and change the world?”
“I made our little corner of the world a warm and happy home.”
Looking around, I realize she’s right. In fact, it’s the home I always return to, even more so than the house I grew up in. The only thing that made it feel better was when Carson was here with me, walking in the woods, laughing in the kitchen.
Nanna glances at my bare wrist. “The watch your grandfather gave you, engraved with the words ‘Tempus Fugit,’ was a reminder that life is too short to let fear, shoulds, or other people’s expectations drive your decisions.”
I feel naked without it on and terrible I still haven’t had it repaired.
“Bailey, you’ve spent so much time trying to live for others, you’ve missed all the goodness around you and the potential within you.”
“Do you really think so?” But no sooner are the words out of my mouth do I have an answer, my own answer. Of course she’s right.
Her reply comes in the form of a hug and when she pulls away, she says, “You, of all people, should know that a certain professional athlete’s plane should be landing any time now.” Her smile fills with warmth … and suggestion.
“Are you saying I should meet him at the airport for one of those romantic reunion scenes like in your books?”
“Now that you mention it, that’s a great idea.” The lines around her eyes whisker with laughter.
When I get to the car, I check the flights and see that Carson’s schedule had changed and he arrived early. Instead of going to the airport, I drive to his rental, but his truck isn’t in the driveway. Next, I check the arena. Sure enough, he’s there.
As my PAL role comes to an end, I haven’t been tracking his schedule as carefully as I did in the beginning, but I wasn’t aware of a team meeting or training today.
Hurrying inside, I don’t find him in any of the usual places. Lastly, I check the ice, but it’s empty. Maybe he parked here and took a ride with someone … for some reason. But who? Where?
Feeling defeated, I drop into a seat by the penalty box. Tears sting my eyes and there’s no forcing them back.
Footsteps echo nearby and a large shadow casts itself over me.
Peering over my shoulder, I meet a pair of blue-green eyes. “Blondie, you’re crying.”
I nod, unable to restrain my sob.
Carson sits down next to me and gathers me into his arms. In the warmth of his comforting embrace, there’s no question that this is where I belong—with him and here in Maple Falls.
CHAPTER 40
BAILEY
