Page 96 of Chasing Stars
“Jenna!” Caden runs up and throws his little arms around Jenna’s legs. She looks around the room, laughing.
“What are you guys doing here?” Jenna’s eyes widen when she spots her family.
Aunt Leona stands up and walks over, joined by my mom and dad. “Jenna, there was once a time when our families were close. Your father’s death drove a wedge between us for many years.” Aunt Leona’s eyes fill with tears.
“But not anymore. We’re friends that turned into family again,” My mom wraps an arm around Aunt Leona, tugging her close.
“Framily!” Caden shouts excitedly.
Everyone laughs.
“Miles asked us to come,” Jake says, looking me in the eye. “He set all of this up for you, Jenna.”
Jenna turns to me, her eyes tearing again. “You did this? Brought everyone back together?”
I nod, nervously licking my lips.
Jenna says nothing else—she tugs my face to hers and kisses me. Everyone cheers.
When she pulls away, she glances around the room, smiling with her whole face, like she can’t believe she’s surrounded by family. “Thank you all. This could have been a really hard day, but instead it’s perfect. I’m so thankful for each and every one of you.” Jenna sniffles, wiping away a stray tear.
A chorus of agreement fills the room as everyone smiles at her.
Jenna shifts, biting her lip uncertainly but then she breaks into another smile that crinkles her eyes. “Okay, enough of this sentimental stuff. Where’s thepie?”
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Jenna
I’m hurrying around my newly renovated kitchen, prepping food for our first ever Christmas Eve dinner in our little house on Monarch Street. Even when my parents lived here, there was never a Christmas celebration under this roof. I could not be more excited. Miles and I picked out the perfect tree from a little farm offshore. We bought all of our decorations from Joy’s Hardware, and it feels like a Hallmark movie in here.
It’s cliché to say, but I am living my own Hallmark love story every day. After Thanksgiving last year, Miles and I decided we couldn’t be apart any longer; we wanted to wake up together every day until the end of time. Instead of listing my house and moving into his condo, we listed his condo. It’s beachfront, so it didn’t take long to sell. Miles and Pete moved in with me just shy of a year ago, and I have never been happier. Pete has a yard to play in now, but we still take him to the beach. Miles and I have fixed the house up and made it our own—starting withnew kitchen counter tops and Miles’s furniture from his condo. I haven’t vaulted any ceilings yet, but maybe someday.
I put family photos of my parents around the house because I never want to forget that they’re always with me. I know this is where they would have wanted me to end up—and who they would have wanted me to end up with.
I’ve also started my own interior design company. I’m working from home for now, but Miles and Joy have my business cards and hand them out to customers regularly. They have been keeping me busy. I still have to pinch myself—I can’t believe that I get to do what I love every day.
Speaking of what I love? This crazy man of mine has embedded a love of surfing in my soul. I can hardly believe it, but he has me out there with him on my dad’s beach almost three hundred days a year. I still won’t go in when it’s ice cold like he does, but now I understand why he chases those stars every night. There’s something amazing about seeing the universe from the ocean under the inky night sky. I guess I’m a convert.
“Jenna!” Miles’s voice interrupts my daydreaming. He sounds like a kid on Christmas, his voice brimming with excitement.
I put the knife down I’m using to slice cheese for a charcuterie board. “In here!” I call, wiping my hands on a paper towel.
“I have to give you your gift.” He marches into the kitchen holding a large, wrapped gift box out to me.
I frown, but a smile tugs at my lips anyway. “Babe, no. It’s only Christmas Eve. I haven’t even wrapped yours yet.”
“Please.” He puts the box on the table and folds his hands at me like a begging child. “Pretty please. I can’t wait until tomorrow.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Fine.”
Miles pulls out a kitchen chair for me. It’s still my parents’ old kitchen table, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Sit,” he orders, pointing to the chair.
“Yes, sir.” I tease with a grin.
Miles sits across from me, placing the sloppily wrapped box in my lap.Hey, at least he tried.“Open it,” he says eagerly, rubbing his palms together.
