29. Aaron

29

AARON

Mom and I drive in late Friday night after I tie up all the loose ends with my business dealings, including closing on a property. I wanted to feel unencumbered so I could enjoy our time in Aqua Vista. Plus, it’s a perfectly stealthy way to surprise Jack before the art fair tomorrow. Thankfully, we snagged the last room at the Hydrant Motel, and Mom is tickled pink about the name.

“Cute little area, though it’s hard to tell in the dark,” she says as we drive through the center of town. “Minnie will enjoy her walks.”

Mom brought her oxygen just in case, but I can tell she’s already breathing easier. Maybe it’s not so much the mountain air as it is simply getting away for the weekend.

Once we settle in our room, Mom takes Minnie out to do her business, and then it’s lights out. We’re both exhausted, but I plan to wake early and go see one particular part of the town.

I’m the first to get moving in the morning, and Mom seems well-rested as she shuffles to the shower. Soon enough, Minnie is fed, let out, and we’re back in the car. I use my GPS to find the cottage property for sale. It’s set away from the street and other houses, so it’s got a bit of land. As soon as we park, I have this sudden, visceral reaction I’m trying to comprehend. Part excitement, part deep-seated rightness. It was important to me to see the house for myself before speaking to Chuck again.

“It’s quaint,” Mom says. “Gonna need some work.”

“Yeah, but that’s exactly what I want.”

The paint is peeling in some areas, but it’s still an interesting shade of plum, with cream and light-green trim. The yard is smaller than I had anticipated, but given that I currently don’t have one at all, it’s good enough for me.

Mom and Minnie wait on the sidewalk while I circle the house, climb onto the porch, and glance through the windows. The cream-colored walls are dated, and the hardwood floors need sanding and staining, so it’s right up my alley. I can’t help smiling as I imagine what colors and styles I’ll choose.

“I can tell you like it,” Mom says.

“I do.” A thread of excitement pulses through me at the prospect of owning property here, even if I’m unsure on a couple of fronts. What if Jack wouldn’t want me to live here, even part-time? What if I’m wrong about how he feels? Would I still do this if he doesn’t approve or runs scared?

“So now what?” she asks once we’re back in the car.

“I don’t know. I need time to think.” It all feels overwhelming. “How about we grab some breakfast?”

She pats my hand, no doubt catching the panic in my expression. “Sounds good.”

We head back to the motel, where Mom places Minnie in a front carrier she uses for travel, and then we head into town on foot to grab breakfast at the diner. I offered to drive, but she insisted that a short, slow-paced walk would do her good. The doctor also recommended light exercise along with lowering her stress level, which would help with shortness of breath. Still, I can’t help worrying that she might overdo it.

“Well, look who’s here,” June exclaims as we settle into the last two seats at the counter.

“June, this is my mom.” Minnie pokes her tiny head out of the carrier. “And Minnie.”

“You are the cutest,” June coos to Minnie, then turns her attention to Mom. “Pleased to meet you. How about some coffee?”

“That would be perfect,” Mom replies around a yawn, and I wonder if the walk was already too much for her. Though her breathing doesn’t seem labored. Yoga has certainly assisted with that. Hopefully, some coffee and breakfast will help increase her energy level.

Once Mom is happily sipping a coffee loaded with creamer, June asks, “Does Jack know you’re here?”

“No, we only drove in for the art fair.” It’s not the whole truth, but I suspect June knows that. “I thought Mom would enjoy it.”

“I’m sure she will.” She winks. “And he’ll be happy to see you.”

My stomach does a little flip. “Will you be attending?”

“At some point. Aunt Dina will need me at Honeycomb. It’s going to be mobbed all weekend.”

We place our order, then eat our breakfast while chatting and people-watching. Minnie gets her share of nibbles from Mom’s toast, and I note that there are plenty of new faces in town for the art fair.

“People are so friendly here,” Mom points out as yet another person asks if they can pet Minnie, who is soaking up all the attention.

Mom seems invigorated after coffee and an omelet, but I still don’t want to push it. “How are you feeling? Do you think you’re up for a walk to the art fair? It’s not far, but we can always?—”

“Honestly, I feel good. Not as winded as I thought I’d be. Maybe it’s all the yoga breathing. Plus, you and Dr. Ritter were right—the mountain air seems to be doing me good.”

“Glad to hear it. But the minute you feel breathless or dizzy, you let me know.”

“Deal.”

Once we cash out, we’re on our way. I ignore the man on the corner selling the cursed bumper stickers featuring frogs and whales. It seems silly, knowing what I know now about this town and its people. But to each their own.

The closer we get to the grassy area where the tents are set up, the more crowded it becomes. Cars are parked everywhere and people walk in groups toward the center of town, so I’m glad we decided to get on the road last night. I feel a little thrill that Aqua Vista is getting its due with the event. No doubt, this is what helps keep the local economy booming. I’m not sure if the man with the cursed merchandise helps or hurts business, but there’s no doubt he’ll make a killing this weekend.

The first tent we come upon near the entrance is the Spellbound shop. Beth has all her merchandise set out, but it’s obvious she also sells her intuition—or at least it’s a draw, as she speaks intently to a customer with her hand on the woman’s wrist. Another lady is near the main table, holding a crystal and waiting to cash out—or maybe to get some of Beth’s insight as well.

“That’s Beth, the owner,” I say to Mom. “She made your bracelet.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Mom jangles the jewelry on her wrist. She’s worn it constantly, so maybe Beth will tout that the healing crystals are influencing Mom’s energetic spirit. “I must thank her.”

We stand in line, and once the customers leave, we step up to greet her.

“I just knew I’d see you here.” Beth squeezes my shoulder. “And this must be your mom.”

“Yes, hello. Please call me Isabel.”

“As long as you call me Beth.” She reaches over and pets Minnie. “How is the bracelet working out for you?”

Mom swivels her wrist. “I love it. Thank you.”

“And the mountain air?”

Mom swings a confused glance my way, obviously wondering how Beth would know we’d discussed such a thing prior to the trip.

“Beth is intuitive,” I explain. “She was the first to suggest that coming here might do you good.”

“And you,” Beth adds with a twinkle in her eye. “Jack’s booth is at the end of this row, in case that’s where you’re headed.”

“We are now,” Mom teases. “I’m looking forward to meeting the man who’s captured my son’s heart. If he’s like the people I’ve already been introduced to, I give my glowing stamp of approval.”

Beth smirks and throws me a knowing look, no doubt thinking about Jack being his own grumpy and interesting character. I get that same anxious feeling in my gut about Mom meeting him.

“He’s good people,” Beth replies, sending us on our way.

As we move past the tents with jewelry, quilts, and baked goods, we stop to look at wares Mom finds interesting. She buys a pie and a biscuit for Minnie from Slice of Life, and as we approach the middle of the row, there’s a large, colorful sign on Mae’s tent asking for donations for her rescue.

“Hey there,” Mae says with a wave. “Are you enjoying your accommodations?”

I nod. “Mom, this is Mae, who owns the motel where we’re staying.”

“Oh yes, I remember now.” Mom smiles. “Your rooms are very comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Mae zeros in on Minnie. “And who is this?”

Mom leans toward Mae. “Say hello, Minnie.”

When Mae reaches out a hand, Minnie licks her fingers.

“You’re the woman who also runs the rescue?” Mom asks, reaching for a pamphlet. “Aaron sent me photos.”

“I am.” She motions behind her to a makeshift enclosure where a couple of dogs are relaxing. “You’re free to let Minnie get some water and a rest.”

Mom’s eyes light up. “Oh, that would be greatly appreciated.”

That’s when I notice Mom leaning her weight against the table. I again feel guilty for not having her rest every few feet, no matter how interested and animated she seems.

Mom turns warily to me. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” I won’t suggest that she could probably use a nap too, but I’m grateful to Mae for the offer. “As long as you don’t mind my heading off to see Jack?”

She grins. “Maybe it’s best you sneak up on him first.”

“My thinking as well.”

As Mae engages Mom in conversation about Minnie, I make my escape. I can’t help feeling impatient to see Jack, regardless of his response to me showing up like this. I just need to be near him again and see his art on display.

As I edge past more tents and finally spot Jack, a spark ignites in my gut, the tingling, aching feeling traveling up to the center of my chest and erupting into an inferno of affection and appreciation. I can do nothing except attempt to pull air into my lungs. That’s how damn strong my draw to him is.

He’s wearing a black T-shirt that reads Just Jack in white letters, and I feel a strange emotion tug at my gut. Part pride that he’s decided to make a name for himself and his art, part deep, endless admiration.

He’s speaking to a customer holding up a print, and as my unsteady legs carry me closer, I want to tell him that Just Jack has a nice ring to it. My gaze snags on the displays, on the newer art, and it makes me feel unexpectedly misty-eyed and pleased, as if I had anything to do with it. My lips part to call his name, but I hold myself back, needing to get my bearings before making a spectacle of myself.

But it’s no use because Jack’s head twists in my direction, as if he’s sensed my presence, and our eyes connect and hold. Neither of us looks away as those flickering flames consume my heart.

A moment of shock in his expression transforms into deep elation, and I blow out a ragged breath. A wash of color spreads across his cheeks as he throws me a crooked smile. I have the urge to reach for him, to plant a wet one on his lips in front of the whole of Aqua Vista. That’s how fucking alive he makes me feel.

A customer steps inside the tent, effectively blocking my view of him. As he greets them and answers their query, I enter through the side to get a closer look at the photos he has displayed.

My gaze is drawn to the turtles and the sunset on the beach—taken on the night that’s burned into my memory. They’re all amazing .

A breath lodges in my lungs as I take in a shot of me on the towpath, my eyes toward the ocean. My expression is obscured because of the night sky, but also because he used black-and-white film and varying degrees of exposure. The effect is avant-garde, modern and innovative.

I suck in air as I turn to him, but he’s not looking at me, still in conversation with the same customer, so I move on to the prints of the cliff and the eagle’s nest, and there I am, flaws and all, mooning for the camera, the blazing sun and a vivid blue sky framing the shots.

I’m struck by the expression on my face. I look so damn…I don’t know. Full of life, happy . All because of him. And this place that feels like it’s part of me.

I hear him thank the customer for stopping by, and then there’s silence. Before I can rein in my breaths and thoughts enough to greet him properly, I feel Jack’s body heat behind me. I shiver as his breath wafts across my nape. “Fucking hell, it’s good to see you.”

His arms wind around my waist, and he pulls me against him. I interlace our fingers as I twist my head to meet his gaze. “Surprise.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks as his lips find that spot right below my ear.

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I did.” I tilt my chin. “My mom is here too, but she’s taking a rest in Mae’s tent with Minnie. She’s excited to meet you, but I couldn’t resist finding you first.”

“Glad you did.” It feels like a moment to catch our breath and reconnect, like we’re in our own little bubble in the shade of the tent. And it feels perfect. He’s perfect. Like everything has aligned to bring us to this moment.

We’re both facing the same set of prints with me in the shots. I motion in the general direction. “How did you decide…which to display?”

“Well, June and Johnny helped. But when it came to the ones of you…” I tremble when he brushes his lips across that tender spot on my shoulder. Reserved only for him. “To be honest, having them here made me feel closer to you. I won’t sell those shots, but June says they give perspective to potential customers. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. You asked, and I agreed. I didn’t know how seeing them all like this would make me feel.” I look at him. “All the memories we made, despite being in each other’s lives for only a few months. But if we string all the moments together, I suppose it’s long enough.”

“Long enough for what?” he murmurs.

“To…care, Jack.” To love. “To really think and feel and care.”

“I’ll have to agree,” he replies against my ear. “Looking through all the prints made me realize how much having you here meant to me. How every single one of those strung-together moments made me feel…and care very deeply.”

My heart pounds in my chest.