Chapter 31

On the firstMonday of the new year, Mae heard a key turn in the lock as she shifted inventory past close, preparing for another week of new releases.

Somehow, she knew the moment she heard it. That someone wasn't picking the lock, that she wasn't being harmed. That it wasn't Vik, one of the only other people with a key, surprising her.

Her breath caught in her throat: half in hope, half in fear she was wrong. She stood frozen, trapped between the two.

Until she heard his heavy footsteps cross the threshold.

The book in her hands dropped to the shelf.

She had daydreamed about this moment, during the times she'd allowed herself to believe it would happen. How she'd sigh and smile, and slide her fingers between his, her other hand cupping his cheek. Welcome home, she'd say. And he'd smile back, and softly brush his nose against hers, and?—

Mae burst into tears. Before she could even fully see him, before she could take in his face. Loud, heaving, embarrassing tears; she covered her face with her hands.

"Hey there, Mae," Dell said, wrapping his arms around her. "Hey. It's okay."

It had been almost two months since she'd seen him.

And sometimes, during some years, two months felt like a very long time.

She was crying too hard to speak.

"I thought a surprise entrance would be romantic," he murmured into her hair. "But perhaps I misjudged."

And for a hot second, she was indeed filled with fury. That she hadn't known he'd been waiting in TSA lines, his big body cramped in airline seats; that he'd been walking through PDX, driving home over the Coastal Range. That she hadn't been able to worry. Hadn't been able to anticipate.

"Are you—" Oh god, he smelled so good, felt so good cocooning her, but she had to make sure. Maybe he just needed to get more things from his house to take back to the UP. "Are you actually back?"

"Yeah." He nuzzled his face into the side of her head. Mae could not believe he was here. "Well, there are some things I have to tell you. But yeah."

She must have frozen at some things I have to tell you, because he hugged her a bit tighter. "Mae, I'm back. I came straight here before I even went home," he said, voice softer. "Figured you'd still be here. Needed to see you before I even saw the dogs, if that helps."

It did.

She shoved her face into his neck. Rubbed her tears against his sweatshirt.

"Dell. I missed you so much." She clutched at the fabric. "I tried to tell myself I was holding it together, because I had the store, and it was selfish, needing you, because you had to be with your mom, but Dell—I missed you so much."

"Mae." Dell's voice turned his extra-special version of rough that made Mae's scalp tingle. "Mae, I missed you, too. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm just—" Mae might pass out. "So glad to see you."

"Me too. You don't even know. Mae." Dell pulled back, taking hold of Mae's shoulders. Trying to look at her. But looking at Dell McCleary's face was still a little too much for Mae, so she scrunched her eyes closed and looked away. Just for a second. But Dell sighed. "Fuck. I've fucked up pretty bad, Mae, haven't I." He released her shoulders, running a hand through his hair. "I'm always fucking up with you."

"No. It's okay," Mae tried to unscrunch her eyes to say. To be brave enough to look at him and accept he was actually here. But Dell kept going before she was quite there.

"It was just—it was really hard, Mae, seeing Georgia sick, being back in Michigan, all of it, and…you're so…Mae, and I thought you'd be okay, busy with the store, and—" Dell sighed once more. "But those are all excuses. I know I could have communicated more. I know I disappeared, like I have a bad habit of doing. I'm so, so sorry."

"I am okay!" Mae shouted, wiping furiously at her face. Because fuck—she had to be clear about this. "I am busy with the store! Which is great, by the way!" Except great didn't even cover it. Mae loved her store. She loved it so much. She was so happy. She'd have to explain it to Dell better, when more oxygen reached her brain. "I know so many people now. I say hi all the time. Me and Liv have become great dog co-parents, too, I'll have you know. And my professor called my final project impressive, so! So. You texted, and you sent me that book, and I know you did what you could, and I'm fine; I'm good, I just?—"

She couldn't explain it. That it felt like she was doing the best thing she'd ever done, living the best life she'd ever lived, while simultaneously floating in suspended animation, without him. She wasn't mad. She just?—

She balled her hands into fists and stomped her foot.

"I just missed you!"

"Mae." Dell's mouth curved into that damn Dell smile as he stepped forward, cradling her cheeks in his palms. Mae shivered before she stepped away.

"No." She shook her head. "Tell me what those things are that you have to tell me, before you kiss me. I need to know what those things are before I climb you like a tree."

Because she couldn't float in suspended animation forever.

Dell stepped forward again. Until Mae's back just about hit the front counter.

"You sure it can't wait?" he asked, still smiling. "Because jumping to that climbing me like a tree part sounds better to me."

"I'm—" Mae struggled to take a breath. "I'm not sure of anything at this exact moment."

And somehow, that finally made Dell's eyes turn serious again.

"Okay," he said. And then, "I bought a house in the UP."

Mae's body turned to ice.

"But!" Dell held up his hands. "It's just a second, sometimes house. My home is still here, in the foothills, with you and the dogs. But Georgia's still getting older. Still has a chance of having another stroke, or a fall, or something else. And"—Dell took a breath—"I've finally accepted that she's staying there in that beautiful frozen tundra and there's nothing I can do about it. Except make myself drive to PDX and visit her more. So that's what I hope to do. I've been…ignoring a lot of my past, but I don't want to do that anymore. I want to…" His brow furrowed. His hands cupped the air, like he was holding the world in his hands. "Remember all of it. Hold onto all of it. Be here, and there, as much as I can."

Cautiously, his hands rested on her face again.

"A sometimes house," she said.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'd love for you to go with me, sometimes, to that sometimes house. But I understand you have the store."

Mae swallowed.

"I have employees now."

"Yeah?" His eyes twinkled.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm definitely not ready to leave this place to Karizma and Zeke quite yet, and Karizma will have her baby, but?—"

"Wait, Zeke who used to work at the bank?"

"Yeah. I guess he's bored with retirement. He's only here a day or two a week. But his wife sends me thank you emails like, all the time."

Dell's smile deepened. "Zeke's a good guy."

"Yeah. Dell, I would love to visit the UP with you."

His thumbs caressed her cheeks, eyes growing thoughtful.

"Can you help me get out of Greyfin Bay more in general? Not just when I need to visit Georgia, and…probably not back to Portland, at least not a lot. I might not ever be fully okay, going back there, but I'm going to work on it. I also can't guarantee I won't ever throw a mug at your head again, and I am so deeply sorry about that. But…"

Dell swallowed. Mae tracked the movement in his throat, forced herself to not lean forward and kiss it.

"Going to other places. Like maybe one day we could drive to the California border and back, just for the hell of it. Things like that. So I know I'm not hiding here. If that makes sense."

"Yeah," Mae whispered, eyes somehow refilling with tears. She was going to be so dehydrated. "Yeah, Dell. To all of it."

He smiled at her again. His eyes were calm. She tried, again, to take a full breath.

"Georgia's really okay?"

And Mae knew she was when Dell rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. For now anyway. Other than her threatening me with bodily harm daily if I didn't get out of her house and back to you."

Mae bit her lip. "I think I like this mom of yours."

"Yeah." Dell moved forward, shuffling Mae fully against the counter. Slotting their bodies fully against each other. "I actually would've been here earlier, if snowstorms didn't keep getting in my way."

Mae stared at Dell's mouth.

"Welcome back to the home of forever rain," she said.

"I have never been happier to be here."

And when he leaned in this time, she didn't stop him.

The feel of his lips, the scratch of his beard, the touch of his tongue. His belly against hers, his sweatshirt underneath her fingertips.

I missed you, she kissed him.

Thank you for coming home, she kissed him.

Welcome to our store, she kissed him.

And he kissed her back: an affirmation. An ember.

A full, settling breath.

She pulled away to say, "I have something I want to show you, too."

Taking him by the hand, she led him around the counter, into the office, and up the stairs. When they reached the second story, she released his hand to turn on all the lamps, the twinkle lights above the windows. Dell looked around at the couch, the chairs, the tables. The plants and the flowers, the framed postcards and art prints. The things she'd acquired from Olive over the last few weeks, combined with bits from her life in Portland, from her life in Madison. From her lives in Brooklyn and North Carolina. Her storage unit was empty; she'd turned in the keys and brought home the last of it after her Christmas visit to Vik and Jackson's. All of her bits were now here.

"What is this?"

"I…don't know, exactly, yet," Mae admitted. "But the more I talk to people, the longer I run the store…I don't have the spoons to run a queer community center, to do what I used to do. But I think Greyfin Bay needs a space. Where people can hold book clubs, or study, or start a writing group, or read, or…be still. A space to just be."

Mae tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I also know it's a liability, having a free open space, so I had the security system extended up here, and I'd probably only have it open a few nights a week, or?—"

"Mae." Dell stepped toward her. "I think it's lovely."

Her eyes flashed toward his. "Yeah? Lovely was…kind of what I was going for."

He glanced at the wall behind her.

"Gemma's work too, I presume?"

"Yeah. That's my favorite part."

She turned to look at it with him. The mural took up the entire length of the far wall, just completed by Gemma a few days before. A field of California poppies. An expanse of orange and green and blue sky.

"Poppies," Dell murmured.

"State flower of California," Mae explained. "Jesus, originally…was one of those damn Californians."

Dell, thankfully, grinned.

"I want it to feel like…how he always made people feel."

Dell stepped closer. Kissed her temple.

"It already does, Mae," he whispered. "But this reminds me." He reached into the pocket of his jeans. "I got you something."

He opened the tiny plastic bag and emptied the trinket into her palm. She brought it up to her face to examine.

"This is…"

"Apple blossom," Dell said. "State flower of Michigan."

Mae looked at him.

He lifted her gold chain from underneath her T-shirt.

"This okay?" he whispered. She nodded.

He had big hands, Dell McCleary, but he used them to make fine crafted, beautiful things. He didn't struggle at all with the clasp. With gliding the new pendant down to meet the others. And maybe Mae had believed him downstairs, when he'd said he was back. But maybe she really believed him when Michigan rested against her chest. Maybe she truly knew now that he'd still be with her, even when he had to leave again.

And maybe it was about time to get to that climbing like a tree part.

When she threw herself at him now, it wasn't at all gentle and kind like it had been downstairs.

"Dell," she said, yanking at his clothes, scratching at his neck. "Please."

"Yes," he answered, ripping away her cardigan, her skirt with equal abandon. "Fuck yes."

And so her old coffee table was shoved to the side somewhat recklessly, the plant she'd placed on it almost crashing to the ground until Mae caught it at the last second. Jeans and leggings were hastily pushed off, shirts thrown to the side, until Mae and Dell were once more resting on a rug in 12 Main Street, making bad choices for their backs.

"On top," Dell breathed, grabbing Mae by the hips as they rolled into position. "I need you on top of me."

Dell's hands and mouth were everywhere—squeezing her ass, teeth grazing her skin, tongue swirling around her nipples, sucking, beard tickling. Mae moved against him, rubbed her clit against the length of him before he fumbled for a condom, before she placed him at her entrance; she was a breath away from screaming the entire time. "I'm so—I'm going to come in like five seconds." She sank onto him with a groan.

"Already," Dell breathed, "halfway there."

"I missed you," she panted, digging her fingers into his stomach, his breasts, his good shoulder.

"Fucking kiss me," Dell demanded. And so she did, swiftly too distracted by the heat of his mouth, her own sloppy desires to keep up any sort of respectable rhythm, but Dell took over without complaint, thrusting into her as their mouths clashed, as she emptied her cries onto his tongue.

"So good," she whispered, body no longer under her control. It had always been so good with Dell.

"So fucking good," he agreed, suddenly fisting a hand into her hair, fingers of his other hand sliding between their bodies, rubbing her just there, and?—

Oh god oh god

She dropped her face to his shoulder, mouth open on his skin, all words knocked out of her. Distantly, she felt his fingers in her hair tighten, his body stutter beneath hers as they went still, tight tight tight and then loose, so fucking loose and hot and wet.

"Fuck." Dell's arms flopped to his sides. His chest moved underneath her mouth, a swelling inhale and release. "Mae. Fuck."

"Dell. Oh god I needed that so bad."

A rumble of laughter underneath her cheek.

"Me too." A kiss in her hair, before his head thudded back to the rug. "I'll do it more sensually next time."

"Mm," Mae mumbled. "Only if you really want to."

Another laugh, more relaxed.

Mae was never going to move again.

Except then Dell was nudging her shoulder.

"Mae," he whispered. "I have to pee."

Dell was truly the worst sometimes.

But she supposed she forgave him when he came back up the stairs a few minutes later, clad in a white T-shirt and black briefs, the roots of a tree spreading down his thigh, covering a scar he'd never deserved.

And he was still laughing.

"What's so funny?" she asked as she pulled on her leggings, only slightly grumpily, to go follow suit.

"The bathroom," he said. "I forgot about Jesus's bathroom."

She smiled then.

"It's gotten many compliments."

"I'm sure it has."

He kissed her on the mouth, short and sweet as she passed. The kind of short and sweet you shared when you had time. When you weren't worried about getting to do it again.

When she returned to his side five minutes later, wrapping an arm around his stomach, a leg around his thigh, her cheek nestled onto his shoulder, the last words she needed to say tumbled free.

"I was so sad when you sold me this building."

Dell jerked his head toward her so fast his beard almost scraped her corneas.

"What?"

"I—" She turned her face into his breast. "I know it was what I always wanted. But part of me had become convinced you might stay in Michigan permanently, to stay with your mom, so when you suddenly handed the building over to me, it felt like…you were ripping away the final Band-Aid that attached you to me. You know?"

"Mae." Dell exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "God, no. It's just—I should've sold it to you a long time ago, the first time we kissed, the first time I accepted I had feelings for you. I don't like power differentials in relationships, and me having ownership of your store when we were romantically involved felt wrong to me. I just kind of…forgot to do anything about it, in the hecticness of everything, and when I remembered, I had to make it right."

She shook her head.

"Of course you did," she said. God, she loved him.

"But I'm so sorry if it made you upset."

"No, it's okay." And then, giving his chest a kiss, "I had started to think of this place as ours, though."

A pause.

"Oh." Quiet, a bit surprised. "I didn't—" Dell swallowed. "That's kind of you, to think that, even though I really did just make some bookshelves."

"And paid for half of the repairs."

"Well—"

"And gave me a place to live. For free."

"I still don't exactly understand how that ended up happening, but I'm glad it did."

"And took me to the lumberyard. Listened to me, every day."

"If you—" Another uncertain pause. "I mean, we are still waiting on the title paperwork, I suppose, if you really want to change?—"

"Oh no, I own this shit now. No take backs."

And Dell barked out a laugh that shook Mae's whole body.

"You are something else, Mae Kellerman."

Mae kissed the side of his breast again.

"I own this building," she said, "but it'll still always be a little bit yours."

Dell's laughter died down. His arm wrapped around her back, fingers dancing along her shoulder.

"That sounds good to me." A minute went by before he asked, "Did you really think I wasn't coming back?"

Mae could hear the troubled frown in his voice. She tried to not feel foolish.

"You just…never said, on the phone or over text. Can't wait to come home. Can't wait to see you again. You know? I got paranoid. Maybe a bit dramatic. I don't know."

Dell sighed.

"I was gone for two months, Mae," he said, voice quiet again, serious. "That's pretty dramatic. I just…I never want to lie to you. And I never knew when I'd be coming home. So I could never say it."

Mae closed her eyes.

"But I'll be better, next time. At making sure you know I'll always come back to you."

"I know, Dell. I know." And she did know. Not just that he would do better next time. Not just that he would always come back.

But that no matter what happened between them, Dell McCleary was a person who would never lie to her.

The trust she had in that—the trust she had in him—seeded through every part of her. It was a balm to overworked skin. It was the calcium in her bones.

They quieted as they listened to the creaks of the old building, the intermittent chatter of Main Street, the distant but ever present rush of the waves on Greyfin Beach. As they looked at the wall of Jesus's poppies, brought to life by another queer person, another kind stranger, who lived in another small town along the coast.

"What was Jesus's connection to Greyfin Bay?" Dell asked after a time, his hand running down Mae's arm. "Why did he want his ashes spread here?"

"You know, I never actually knew until Alexei told me, that day we spread his ashes, when I first saw this building. Greyfin Bay was where Jesus and Steve had their first date." Mae smiled into Dell's skin. "They first met when they were out with mutual friends one night in Portland. Jesus thought Steve was hot but quiet, until late into the night, when marine life, of all things, came up in conversation. As weird stuff tends to come up in conversation when you've been at the bar too long. And Steve just…exploded, talking about how much he loved whales and sharks and rays and?—"

Mae paused to smile again, picturing the memory she hadn't actually witnessed.

"—how much he'd always wanted to go on a whale watching tour. Steve was from Oregon but somehow had never been out here for one; when his family went on vacation they went to like…Paris and Venice and Saint Barts. Although I think it was Saint Barts where he first fell in love with marine life. Anyway, so Jesus invited him on a date to Greyfin Bay. He told Alexei that he fell in love with Steve the first moment he started talking about sharks at that bar, but it was when they came here, when he saw the look on Steve's face when he first saw a whale on that boat that he knew he was done for life."

They lapsed again into silence, staring at the poppies. Dell running that calloused hand up and down Mae's skin.

"Have you been on one of the whale watching tours?" Dell eventually asked. "You moved at the perfect time for one."

"No," Mae murmured. "I was too busy with the shop. Have you been on one?"

She wasn't surprised at all when Dell chuckled, a soft vibration against her cheek, and said, "No."

But then he added, "We should go, this year. In honor of them."

"Yeah." Mae smiled again. "In honor of them."

"We should probably go soon, in any case," Dell added, "before climate change drives whales away from Greyfin Bay for good."

"You are always full of pleasant thoughts, Dell McCleary."

"Always." And then, "I'm glad they brought Steve and Jesus together, though." A pause. "I'm glad they brought you to me."

"Yeah," Mae whispered. "I'm glad for that, too."

Another long moment passed.

"Hey Dell? When we go on that whale watching tour, nine months or so from now. You won't judge me too harshly if Bay Books has shut down by then?"

Because Dell's predictions felt more realistic, now that she'd dwindled Steve and Jesus's savings in opening the shop. Now that she'd given half of what remained to the bank. Now that she'd seen, every day, how thin her profit margins were.

"It won't be shut down," Dell said automatically. Diplomatically. Kindly.

"It might," Mae countered. Dell's hand paused, for just a second, before returning to its ministrations.

"Then you'll figure something else out," Dell said. "And it'll still be incredible that you made Bay Books exist at all. As long as you're still with me, Mae? That's all I need."

Mae breathed in and out.

"But I know that whatever you do, even if it's not this," Dell added, voice so soft and affectionate Mae didn't know what to do with herself, "it'll be something good. Because that's who you are, Mae."

Ohh, Jesus whispered. Mae. Never let this one go.

"And you'll still be here," she said after a moment. "And Liv. And Olive, and Cara. Even if the whales go away."

"Even if the whales go away," Dell promised.

And that promise was good enough for her.

She had almost drifted to sleep when Dell spoke again.

"Hey. Mae. What was the last song on Jesus's death party playlist? The one you said was rude, that you never play."

Mae blinked awake.

"Can you reach my sweater? I think I'm ready to play it now."

Dell stretched to reach the cardigan. She fished her phone out of its pocket, navigated to Spotify.

She placed the phone on the floor next to them. Dell let out a breath as the opening strings of Judy Garland's "Over the Rainbow" swelled through the room.

"Oh," he said into her hair.

"Yeah," she agreed.

And she cried when Judy started singing, as one was wont to do when listening to this song. As one was wont to do when they'd been able to love very special people. When they'd been able to live through so many special seasons.

"I loved him," she said into Dell's chest. He rubbed her arm.

"I love you," he said after a moment.

It felt, for a second, as if he was saying it to make Mae feel better. As if to balance out the hurt.

But maybe he was just saying it because the moment felt right. Because he wanted to. Because he meant it.

Love wasn't a zero sum game. It wasn't something to balance, to even scores. Mae would always love Jesus.

And she would always love Dell.

"I love you, too," she replied.

And they lay on the floor of 12 Main Street, in the comfort of the other's warmth and the sound of the ocean beyond the glass, until the song was through.