Page 47 of Every Star that Shines

She pulled her head back and looked up at him again. This time, their kiss was gentle and slow and sweet. The kind of kiss that says, There’s no need to hurry. We’ve got time. A kiss that encompassed all of eternity and was still over too quickly. It promised that whatever the future might hold, they would face it together.

And he intended to make good on that unspoken promise.

He just had to figure out how.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Delanie knelt on Nan’s carpeted basement floor in front of a cardboard box of old paperbacks. She finished writing Put’n’Take on the side with black permanent marker, then slid the marker into the back pocket of her jeans next to her phone. After closing the box, she picked it up, lifting with her legs as she stood. The rumpus room that had stored most of Pops’s things for the last decade or so was nearly empty, save for a few other boxes waiting to be labelled and taken upstairs. Delanie had found a few small treasures to take back to Vancouver with her, but, mindful of her and Marie’s small apartment and the limited cargo space in her car, had managed to put all but the most tempting of prizes into boxes to be passed on.

I guess Caleb could bring some things with him later.

She pushed the thought aside. Since that night at his place almost two weeks ago, she and Caleb had only had one date. He had taken her to dinner, followed by a romantic walk along the dike under the stars. Other than that, they hadn’t been alone once, unless you counted a few stolen kisses behind the stage curtain at rehearsals. And they hadn’t talked about what would happen when she had to leave Peace Crossing and go home to Vancouver. She wasn’t ready to mar the joy of their newly restored relationship by bringing it up again just yet, and she sensed that neither was he. Deep in her heart, she feared there wasn’t a real solution, and the thought made her brace for the worst.

No. He said we would figure it out. I’m sure he’ll think of something. Maybe Dave and Monica will move to Vancouver too?

The thought was ridiculous, and she wasn’t even sure she would want her old rival there. But if it meant she and Caleb didn’t have to break up again, she would get used to it. After all, there was no way Caleb would move to Vancouver if Emma couldn’t come too. While that was the right priority, she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous—just once, she wanted Caleb to choose her first.

As she tramped up the last few steps of the narrow stairwell, the back of a slim woman in a delicate floral-print cotton top and light blue work slacks came into view in the kitchen. Caleb’s mother, Adelaide, was bent over the sink, her hands covered with bright yellow rubber gloves, rinsing a rag in the soapy water it contained. When she heard Delanie coming, she glanced over her shoulder, her short greying brown wedge cut barely stirring with the motion.

“I’m nearly finished wiping down the cupboards. I’ll start on the dining room walls next.”

“Awesome,” Delanie said, grunting a little with the weight of the books as she moved past Adelaide toward the living room. “Thank you so much for coming to help. I know you have plenty to do at home.”

Caleb had mentioned that his dad’s health had been acting up again lately, which was why he had been so preoccupied. He’d been spending his free time helping his dad bring in the harvest, which he did every year, but with his dad struggling so much, he’d barely been getting out of the tractor for rehearsals during the past week. So Delanie had been surprised when his mom had volunteered to help with the final stages of clearing out Nan’s house. She suspected her mother’s dramatics might have been a factor in Adelaide’s decision and felt a twinge of embarrassment. Stop it. That’s between the two of them.

Adelaide smiled, making her sky blue eyes sparkle. “It’s my pleasure. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have done more.”

Delanie smiled. “You’re doing plenty, trust me. I hate washing walls.”

She set the box on top of another one also destined for the local Put’n’Take, wedging it between the faded rose-print couch—now sans slipcover—and the wall, then straightened and stretched.

She could hear her mother humming as she cleaned the bathroom down the hall. Delanie recognized the tune as a worship chorus from her days going to church as a teenager. The sound was comforting and familiar, a reminder of the unwavering faith in a place beyond death that kept her mother going even in difficult times. Delanie knew that’s where her mom thought Nan and Pops were now, and was struck by a longing to know if that were true. She adored the thought of them back in each others’ arms again at last. Instead of a song from church, though, the idea reminded her of the poignant Irish love song “Danny Boy”—you will bend and tell me that you love me, and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

The sound of wheels crunching on the gravel outside drew her to the living room window. Her father’s bronze half-ton pickup eased to a halt, its rear end facing the sidewalk from the entrance.

“Dad’s back!” Delanie called toward her mother.

“Wonderful,” Cheryl responded. “Can you ask him to take the microwave with this load? That old beast isn’t going to do a thing for the house when it’s staged.”

“Sure.”

Delanie glanced around the transformed living room. The furniture was all still there, but the shelves crammed full of books had been emptied and wiped clean, ready to be artfully filled with plants and sculptures. The gallery of family photos had all been taken down, leaving a stark wall pock-marked with nicks. They would need to fill the holes and paint before the realtor would start showing the house, and, more than likely, that blank space would be filled by some cheap print bought from Walmart to increase appeal. Several piles of boxes waiting to be taken to final destinations filled the gaps between the furniture. It made Delanie sad to see all the reminders of Nan stripped from this place—it was like she was dying all over again. She sniffled and wiped away a tear.

Her dad came in the door, closing it behind him. When she sniffled again, he turned toward her in concern.

“What’s the matter, Sweet Pea?”

She shook her head. “It’s just . . . this place feels so empty and devoid of personality now, like we’re taking Nan’s spirit away, not just her things.”

Her father encircled her shoulders with one strong arm and pulled her into his barrel-chested frame so he could kiss her temple. “I understand. It’s hard letting go of the past sometimes. But you know we carry Nan with us in our hearts, right? We don’t need her things to remember her.”

“Of course.” She wiped another errant tear. “I’ll be fine. It just hit me, that’s all. Mom wants you to take the microwave this time.”

“What the queen wants, the queen gets,” he said affectionately. “You okay?”

She nodded, and he smiled. Releasing her, he headed into the kitchen to retrieve the appliance.

Delanie’s phone buzzed long in her back pocket, and she pulled it out, smiling when she saw Marie’s face on the screen. She swiped to answer the call. “Hey, girl. What’s new?”

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