Page 78 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
“Try grilled cheese,” Three calls out.
Then he turns to me and smiles.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sara
Eleven Years Ago: July
I love being in Abieville. Love, love, love! That’s why I haven’t written even a single word so far this summer. I’m just living in the moment, making memories, and soaking up the present while I can. June was amazing. And so far, July’s been almost perfect too.
The only teeny-tiny cloud in these sunny skies is that my parents are a little worried I spend too much time with Three while we’re in Abieville and too much time thinking about being with him when we aren’t.
Of course they like Three—how could they not?—but my dad says it’s short-sighted to leavehalf my brain here all year when my future is nowhere near this place. And my mom says Three’s life is so different from mine, he probably has very different goals than we do.
Correction: ThanIdo.
Anyway, I understand their concern. They’ve invested so much time, energy, and money into my future. Not to mention they love me a lot. Of course they want to see me succeed. I just wish they’d trust me. I’ve worked way too hard to let my future plans get derailed now. I can care about my goals AND care about Three, right? I’ll just have to double down the rest of the year to prove to them that I can handle both.
Because the truth is, it’s not just half my brain that spends the rest of the year in Abieville. It’s half my heart. And if I work hard enough, I can still achieve any goal.
Like maybe someday being Mrs. Sara Jane Fuller, Esquire.
PS: Three’s still wearing his cuff.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Three
I thought Sara and I would pick up the conversation Sheriff Bender interrupted once we were finally alone again. But since we left school, she’s been acting a little … skittish. Hands fidgety, gaze darting around, barely making eye contact.
After a pit stop in the shop classroom to borrow the tools I’ll need for the storage room, we lugged the equipment to the car, drove back to the lake house, and transferred everything inside. Meanwhile, whispers of my unspoken truths charged the air like electric currents.
As for Sara, she’s probably just excited over the house getting approved, and I’m determined to see the rest of the process through. But that just brings us one step closer to separating again. So we’ve got to talk about what happened ten years ago.
To be honest, I’m nervous. Telling Sara everything could be painful, even after all this time. She might not be able to forgive me. Or her parents. Still, I’m not nineteen anymore. I’ve gotten better at communicating. I owe her the truth. I owe the truth to both of us.
So I follow her across the house and into the kitchen. My throat’s tight, but I’m ready to go. She checks inside the oven then punches some numbers, setting the temperature to preheat.
“So about what I was starting to tell you before the whole Sully thing …” I begin.
“Food first,” Sara says, moving to the sink to wash and dry her hands.
“But—”
“Luckily a five-pound turkey only takes a couple hours, because I’m already getting hungry.” She turns to face me, eyes not quite meeting mine. “I’ll make dinner while you get that work done in the storage room, okay?”
“Okay.” I duck my head. Sara’s not ready to talk yet, which is fine. She’s earned my patience. And anyway, my appetite’s returned in full force. I’m hungry too.
“Will two hours be enough time for you?” She selects a large roasting pan from the cabinet, and sets it on the stovetop. “Sorry if that’s a really stupid question.”
“It’s not.” I glance at the wall clock. “I should be able to finish by then. Or at least I’ll have made good progress.”
“Great,” she chirps, throwing open the fridge door. She pulls the turkey out and lays it in the roasting pan.
“You know, I’d be just as happy with something simple,” I say. “Like spaghetti.”
“We already skipped the turkey last night.” She’s rummaging around in the fridge again, fishing out ingredients to set on the counter. “And we have all the fixings. I’d hate to let good food go to waste. As it is, we only have tonight and tomorrow to finish the leftovers before I go home.”
