Chapter 34

thirty-four

LUKE

If I were to pick a place in town to award ‘the best town gossip’, it would be Once Upon a Brew. It sits on the northeast corner of the square, with windows on both sides. People can sit outside at the bistro tables, or inside in a booth or four top, and get a pretty great view of whatever is happening in town.

My thoughts are only further bolstered by the full parking lot as I swing in to find a spot. Maybe it’s the Diamond Jubilee, or fall on its own. But based on the frequency my siblings mention a certain town app, I suspect it’s more than that.

I’ve got to make good on the promise I made to Lucy a few days ago and get her breakfast before school, but the reality is: I’m hoping Ella is here. When I mentioned to Dean I was swinging by, he grinned and told me to take my time.

It’s technically only been a day since we’ve seen each other.

But I laid awake late into last night wondering what I’m doing. As usual, my sisters are right. If there’s a chance that magic is playing around, why am I not being fully honest with Ella about how I feel?

With a huff, I swing open my car door and hop out .

I drug my heels years ago, and completely missed my chance. Granted, we were kids, and I had no clue she would disappear from life like someone waved a magic wand and made her vanish. Even now, I’m not entirely sure what the future holds.

What I do know? Ella isn’t a regret I want to have.

“Dad, why do grown-ups need coffee?” Lucy’s expression is so serious I have to choke back a laugh as I open the rear truck door.

“Because it tastes good. And because we can’t function without it.”

“I don’t think I want to become a grownup,” she replies, her adorable forehead wrinkling up with a frown.

“Trust me. Don’t rush it, kid.” I reach out and tug on her braid before helping her out of her booster. She’s not quite at the height requirement to graduate out of it, and I’m not rushing it. Even though she always insists she’s too big to need one.

She surprises me more by squeezing me with a hug as soon as she’s on the ground.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Luce,” I reply, emotion choking my voice.

We’re already towing that line where she’s not always sure if it’s cool to hug me in public, so I relish in the moment and squeeze her back. I’ve heard the motto ‘kids grow up too fast’ more times than I can count over the years, but it’s true. It’s hard to not see the tiny baby I could hold in the crook of one arm even now.

“You’re the best dad ever .” She punctuates her proclamation with a loud, smacking kiss against my cheek. “Race you?”

“Not today, munchkin, but I will follow your lead.” I gesture to the door, and she skips away, shiny boots and all.

I heft open the heavy wooden door, a steaming coffee mug front and center in the stained glass design. All the shops carry their own subtle magics, I’m sure, but this one is always comforting. Lucy has always loved the stone floors in here, with the hints of moss green and sparkles of gold. The tile backsplash behind the counter showcases a fairytale motif, which has served as the focus for many a round of ‘I Spy’ with Lucy over the years. Her favorite tiles are the little dragons breathing puffs of fire.

As we step inside, I’m assaulted by greetings from townspeople. I’d prefer to be assaulted by a venti of whatever liquid is the source of the earthy aroma permeating the shop. Maybe even by IV at this point.

Lucy rushes over to her favorite place at the wooden counter. Deep purple velvet cushions outfit the warm high-bar chairs, and she’s right next to the display case. Quinn, the current owner of the shop, has outfitted it with fall garland. Little orange fairy lights outline the chalkboard menu on the back wall.

But my favorite part of the shop this morning?

My favorite blonde is sitting right beside Lucy.

Would it be uncool to do a fist pump? Probably.

“Lucy. The polite thing to do would be to ask if you can join someone. What if she wanted to sit here in peace?” I walk up behind Lucy, gripping the back of her seat she’s shimmied into.

Ella’s eyes lift to mine, sparkling with amusement.

“But it’s my favorite spot, Dad.” She groans, tipping her head back, so she’s looking at me upside down. “Besides. Ella is my new BFF, so she obviously wants me to sit here.”

“Yeah, dad.” Ella raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of her drink. “It’s her favorite spot. And I’m her new BFF.”

I clear my throat. Forget the end of two weeks. I’m not sure I’ll survive the rest of this week. If she and Lucy join forces, they’ll take me out for sure.

Lucy is oblivious and gives her a wide grin. “Thanks! We girls have to stick together.”

“We sure do. So tell me, Lucy, how do new BFFs have breakfast together? I need some rules.”

Ella and her rules.

“Well, we need matching bracelets. I can work on those after school.” A couple of beats pass, then Lucy turns her giant ‘Puss in Boots’ eyes up to me. “Best friends get brownies for breakfast, right?”

“I believe the agreed upon food when we discussed this breakfast was a pumpkin cinnamon roll. Toss in some egg bites, and I’ll call it a draw.”

Her brow furrows as she considers my offer. “Fine.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Ella’s shoulders shake with laughter.

She looks different every time I see her. Sort of like a chameleon trying to adjust to their surroundings. I’m convinced she could wear a paper sack and look beautiful, but today she’s got on a sweater with a fitted skirt that skims her knees, and heels that make her legs look a mile long.

I think of all the looks I’ve seen her in so far, ripped jeans, mud-caked boots, and a t-shirt top the list.

Quinn tips her head as she slides the steaming cup in front of me. Her eyes slide from Ella back to me.

“This smells like pumpkin,” I say, as I lift the cup to my nose.

“Yep,” she replies, popping the final ‘p’ dramatically.

I narrow my eyes at her. It’s not my favorite drink of the season, but beggars can’t be choosers when they’re desperate.

“Thanks,” I grumble .

“It’s the best way to start a day,” Ella replies, taking a sip from her own cup.

“Wait, are you having pumpkin, too?” Lucy asks. “This is so cool. We’re like a little pumpkin family!”

I choke on the very first sip of coffee I take, and it dribbles down my chin in a very unflattering way. She uses the word family pretty liberally, putting many animals and toys into various groupings. There’s no underlying subtext there.

But I just got a sneak peek into what my future could look like, and I’m not prepared for the jumbled emotions that accompany the mental image.

“That’s a fun way to look at it.” Ella slides a stack of napkins toward me without taking her eyes off Lucy.

Quinn stops by again , this time with Ella and Lucy’s pastries. When she doesn’t immediately leave, I jerk my head in the opposite direction.

She’s pretty , she mouths.

Go away, I mouth back.

“See, now we’re just like twins,” Lucy says, immediately diving into her cinnamon roll.

“We totally are. And you know what else? My step-sisters are twins.”

Ella acts like this is the most natural conversation in the world. If she’d stayed here, she could’ve become a teacher, just like Gaby. Her interactions with Lucy are effortless. In fact, this is the most comfortable I’ve seen her since she came back.

The rigidity that usually accompanies anything wedding related is gone, and she’s loose with her smiles.

“What are step-sisters again?” Lucy asks.

Ella considers the question. “Well, when I was a little girl—how old are you?”

“Eight,” Lucy answers, sitting a little straighter on her stool .

“That’s a great age.”

My daughter beams like a little ray of sunshine on the spot.

“When I was a little older than you, my dad married someone. She had two little girls—twins—that were a few years younger than me. They became my step-sisters.”

“Did you like them, or were they evil?”

Ella glances at me, her eyebrows raised. That’s the thing about kids: you just never know what will come out of their mouth next.

I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “She’s learning about fairy tales in school.”

It’s irrelevant that back in the day, I would have whole-heartedly answered with: they’re evil. Maybe that’s a little exaggerated. Evil is a pretty strong word. Selfish and stuck up would suffice.

But with the way Ella talks about Laila now, it seems like maybe she finally grew up a little. The jury is still out regarding my opinion on the matter, but it helps a little to know that if she had Laila, at least she wasn’t alone.

“They’re definitely not evil,” she turns back to my daughter, a smile playing around her lips. “They’re some of my best friends.”

“You’ve got a lot of best friends. Aunt Gaby, your step-sisters, my dad. Me. You’re so lucky.” Lucy takes an over-sized bite of her cinnamon roll. “You seem too nice for evil step-sisters.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she laughs.

“I swear she has manners,” I reply, sort of apologizing for my daughter talking with a mouthful of food. “Lucy, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

She shrugs. It reminds me a little of that scene in Miss Congeniality where Grace Hart is tearing through a steak, and Victor just stares in horror at her eating manners .

“Do you like fairy tales?”

“ Love them. Which one is your favorite?” Ella takes a bite of her pastry as she angles her body to Lucy’s.

“That’s a hard one.” She acts like she needs a minute to ponder it, but I know my daughter. She’s soaking up the attention. “Cinderella.”

Ella’s smile widens. “Why?”

“The pumpkins, of course,” Lucy answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And the pumpkin carriage.”

“The pumpkins.” Ella’s eyes lift to mine. “I’m a pretty big fan of pumpkins myself.”

I haven’t looked at our patch the same in the last decade. We’ve danced around that night, so I have to wonder if this is her way of acknowledging it to me. Hopefully, my jaw isn’t hanging open right now.

She turns her attention back to Lucy. “I like Beauty and the Beast.”

“But the Beast is scary.”

“You’re missing the point,” she replies, tapping her finger lightly on the bar between them. “It’s a story about love and sacrifice. Beauty sacrifices her freedom to save her father, and the beast sacrifices his chance to be redeemed—or he thinks he does—to let her go. Because he loves her. Love is powerful.”

Lucy turns to me. “Do we have this book?”

I’m trying to focus on Lucy, but I can’t. Did I know Ella’s favorite fairy tale was Beauty and the Beast? This feels important.

“Dad.” She waves her hand in front of my face.

“What?”

“I bet your Aunt Gaby could find it for you if she doesn’t already have it,” Ella replies, swooping in and saving me.

“Yeah, sure.” I nod, wading through the fog in my head .

There’s a dim recognition in the back of my mind, but I can’t connect the dots.

“Can I walk with Laura and her parents to school?”

How long have I been zoned out?

Laura and her parents are standing near the door. While Laura is waving, her parents have an odd look on their faces.

“Lucy, you know the rules,” I begin, turning back to her.

“Yes Dad, I know.”

I waver between options. I already feel guilty for how little I’ve been present since Ella came back into my life. But I’m not sure that it’s actually made a tremendous difference. There’s always something pulling me in different directions this time of year, making it hard to feel like the parent I want to be, anyway.

If I let her go to school with them, though, it gives me time to talk to Ella. My reasoning feels flimsy at best, but I’m not the only one benefitting here. Lucy gets time with her friend, I get time with mine.

“Fine, have fun with your friend. I’ll pick you up from school, okay?”

“It’s the first full week, though.” Her eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

“If I can’t take you to school, I pick you up. That’s just how it is.”

She launches herself off the chair and into my arms, wrapping me in a final bear hug. Two for two this morning.

“I’ll see you after school.”

“See you after school,” I mumble into her hair.

“I really like her. Enjoy breakfast,” she whispers, before grabbing her backpack off the chair.

“Sneaky little?—”

Ella chuckles. “You’ve got quite the little matchmaker on your hands. ”

I straighten and shift my attention to Ella. “Do you want her to play matchmaker?”

Her cheeks bloom into two matching circles of red.

“That’s not really what I meant. She just reminded me of those cute kids in the holiday movies. You know, where they get this idea in this head and try to force the adults together…”

While I don’t love the idea of anyone—or anything—else trying to push Ella and me together, it’s entertaining to watch how flustered Ella is. The explanation is pretty amusing, too. At this point, it seems futile, but I’d like to think I’ve got a little say in my own feelings.

“Do you want to move to a table?”

Of course I do. Since I know she’s hovering nearby, I call for Quinn. When she appears, I ask, “When you get a second, can we get two more?”

She nods from behind the counter as she retrieves Ella and Lucy’s plate. Her eyes ping-pong between us, a slight smile curving her lips.

I’m never going to hear the end of this.

Ella grabs her bag that’s hanging on the edge of her chair and leads, so I follow as she picks a table by the window. There are pumpkins and leaves curled around the edges of the glass, people passing by as they visit different places on the square. A ballad plays on the speakers, and I squirm a little as the guy sings about not wanting to lose his best friend.

“So, about that bucket list.”

She sighs. “I hoped you forgot about that.”

“Nope. We made a deal.”

And I really want to see what she listed out on that paper. I’m not sure of all the things she wanted to accomplish, but if I can help her reclaim those dreams, I want to. She digs around in her giant bag and retrieves a folded up piece of paper .

“Don’t laugh,” she warns. “I was a teenager when I made this.”

“Not gonna laugh.”

She slides the paper across the table hesitantly, the tips of her fingers holding it in place right in front of me. I’d be a jerk if I didn’t acknowledge how much trust she’s showing me by even getting this far. There’s a piece of her she’s about to share with me that no one else has ever seen, and I want her to know that I don’t take this lightly.

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”

Ella searches my face. “I think I want to.”

“We can take it one step at a time? If you decide you don’t want to do anything on this list, we don’t have to.”

“Okay.” She gives a small nod.

This ball needs to stay in her court.

I unfold the list, trying to not react when there’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the booth.

The list isn’t what I expected. It’s a sliver of a life Ella never got to experience. I expect the anger to come, but in its place, there’s sorrow. My eyelids burn and I blink repeatedly to vanquish the tears that want to come.

I worry all the time that Lucy is missing out on things, but she’s not. She’s surrounded by a village of people that ensures she has a rich, loved life. Ella worked away her high school years with a smile on herself, when she had this list tucked away in a drawer in her attic bedroom.

Yeah, I knew about that.

I wasn’t aware that Charlotte contained this level of cruelty, though. Not until that last night, and even then, I was na?ve enough to think it was a one-off. She kept Ella from things, but I’m struggling to wrap my head around how much it infused into her everyday life. Not just events like back to school or birthdays or holidays .

She robbed her of more than I can imagine.

And Ella hid it from all of us.

I brush my thumb over some of her words, like I can absorb them through my skin.

“We can cross the wishing well off already,” I say, clearing my throat to clear it of some emotions wedging there.

“You’re right!” She instantly brightens. The way she’s beaming like sunshine makes me want to cancel all of my plans until this list is complete.

Technically, we got lost in a maze on Saturday. But I wonder if she had something a little different in mind.

Go on a magical picnic.

Make a memory scrapbook.

Snuggle while watching a movie.

Dance under the stars.

Go on a real date.

The last one gives me pause. I don’t want to ask and dampen her mood, but surely she’s been an actual date since she wrote this list? There’s a pull in my belly, like someone dropped a rock into it.

Not crazy about the idea of Ella out with someone else.

“This list looks shorter than it did on Saturday.”

“Nope!” She’s so quick to answer, she might as well admit this isn’t the original copy. Now I really want to know what the full list entails. “It’s all there.”

“Is it really?” I pinch the list between two fingers and dangle it in the air.

“Yep,” she squeaks out.

Without even trying, she’s given me two missions: find the original list and check off every single thing on it.

I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy it.