Chapter 25

twenty-five

BECCA

"Am I doing the right thing? You guys would tell me if I was making a horrible mistake, right?"

I repositioned my open laptop so it was a little straighter on top on the cardboard box holding all my paperbacks. My friends' faces stared back at me with varying levels of enthusiasm. Pippa appeared cheerful as she flashed me two thumbs up. Cece frowned skeptically.

My eyes strayed to my own image in the bottom right corner of our friendship triangle video call. I looked somehow both tired and manic. Like I was giving a swamp hag a solid run for her money. Blond hair was piled on top of my head, and dark circles left helpful smudges beneath my eyes, telegraphing my lack of sleep lately. My leggings had seen better days, and my sweatshirt had a mystery stain above my left boob. Probably duck sauce. I peered closer at the screen. No, that was definitely chicken tikka masala. So I'd been wearing this shirt for far too long.

"Hold that thought!" I called to the screen. The sound echoed around the empty apartment. "I need to change my shirt."

I dodged stacks of boxes and slid into my bedroom on fuzzy-socked feet. The suitcase with my remaining clothes lay open on the floor next to my air mattress. I dug around until I found a different sweatshirt and swapped it out for the stained one. Then I figured it couldn't hurt and went into the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on deodorant and a dollop of lotion.

Sure, my friends couldn't actually smell my unwashed body or get a whiff of my sour breath as we spoke, but it would go a long way in showing them that I was okay if I appeared on screen a little more put together. I knew they were worried. And we'd been having video calls at least twice a week since I'd left North Carolina a month and a half ago.

If I could show my friends that I was alright, then I might start to believe it too.

I missed Will, and I missed Kirby Falls.

I'd heard from Chloe and Mac and Larry. I'd been texting with all of them. Guilt still nipped at me whenever I thought about my abrupt departure. I should have explained myself to Maggie and the others.

But hopefully, I'd be making up for it.

Settling cross-legged on the floor, I came back into camera view, and the low murmur of voices abruptly ceased. Cece and Pippa stopped the quiet conversation they'd been having in my absence.

"Sorry. I just needed to freshen up a little," I explained, trying for a smile.

"You look great!" Pippa offered.

"Sure," Cece added noncommittally.

"And," Pippa said, "back to your question. I think you're doing the right thing. Selling the apartment and moving is what's best for you. You're not happy in Detroit. And you need to put distance between you and your sister."

"Has Heather tried to bother you since the B and E thing," Cece interrupted, dark eyes narrowed.

I shook my head. "She hasn't been by and I changed my phone number already. Remember? You have the new number."

It had been weeks, and I hadn't heard from Heather. But that definitely wasn't unheard of. She often went long stretches without getting in touch. But when she needed money, she was very persistent .

I'd replaced the locks on the apartment when I'd gotten home and straightened the mess from the drawers Heather went through looking for cash. There'd been a struggle when the police officers had arrived, and I'd lost a lamp and a side table in the process. It had been strange to be in the apartment knowing that someone—even my sister—had entered without permission. It wasn't that I didn't feel safe, but there was a lingering sort of discomfort associated with the place.

But that wasn't why I'd sold it.

My friends were right. I wasn't happy in Detroit. I had never been, so leaving made sense. I'd meant what I said when I told Heather that she couldn't come around anymore because she wouldn't find me. At the time, I just hadn't worked out how to make that happen or where I'd end up.

But in the weeks since I'd confronted my sister outside the county building, I'd made a plan and found a buyer for Mrs. Walters's apartment. I hoped that my former friend and role model wouldn't be upset by my choices. I liked to think she'd want what was best for me. And her gift of a home had made it possible for me to find happiness elsewhere.

I just wasn't sure if following my heart meant I was ignoring my brain in this particular situation.

"So I'm guessing you haven't heard from Will?" Pippa asked. I shook my head. "Have you thought about calling him?"

I opened my mouth to respond that I'd thought about it plenty—usually multiple times an hour. But something held me back. Maybe embarrassment over what had gone down with my sister. I felt terrible for how I'd lashed out and brought up Will's own past. But part of me was still tender over how he'd hurt me with his words and his indifference. Maybe I thought if he wanted to apologize and work things out, he would have already.

But before I could say any of that, Cece piped up, "Why should she even waste her time on him? His whole life philosophy is out of sight, out of mind."

"Yeah, but Becca won't be out of sight for much?—"

Pippa's words were interrupted by a sharp knock on my front door .

"Is it the cute delivery guy from the Thai place?" Cece asked, already fluffing her mane of beautiful, dark hair. "Turn us to face the door. This might be my meet cute and HEA all in one."

I rolled my eyes but spun the laptop around so the front-facing camera focused on the entryway. But it was too early for takeout, and the movers didn't come until the morning.

Hopping up, I hurried over and unlocked and opened the door. Shock had my fingers slipping off the knob, and the door banged loudly against the doorstop.

"Will," I breathed.

"Hey," he said softly. Will stood in the hallway, hands tucked down in the front pockets of his jeans. His hair was even longer than usual, the dark strands brushed back behind his ears, the ends curling up along his neck. He wore a green sweater. It looked like . . . my brain stuttered over what I was seeing. It looked like an ugly Christmas sweater with red apples and white snowflakes and, I squinted, were those black bears?

When my gaze made its way back to Will's face, I found him examining me. His gray eyes scanned me from head to toe, lingering on my face. While I was grateful I'd changed out of the stained sweatshirt and brushed my teeth, I sort of wished I'd traded the worn leggings for something else.

Amid the confused happiness at seeing him on my doorstep, I wondered what he was doing here.

Will cleared his throat. "How are you? How have you been?"

"Oh." I tried a smile on just to see how it fit. "I've been okay. How about you?"

He was already nodding. "Good. Yeah."

And then we sort of stared at each other for a minute or so—long enough that I registered frantic whispering from behind me.

Shoot. Pippa and Cece were watching this reunion.

But as I started turning to slam the lid of my laptop shut or to bicycle kick it across the room, Will snagged my hand. "No. Actually, no. I haven't been good, Becca. I've been fucking terrible. I came here—I wanted to tell you how sorry I am." The whispering from my computer speakers halted abruptly. "I never should have inserted myself in your relationship with your sister. And I regret the things I said. I had no right. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

I opened my mouth to shout I'm sorry too , but Will kept talking, "And I'm sorry to just show up here, like this, with no warning. I've been calling you for two weeks. I needed to apologize and hear your voice and see your face and beg you to come home. And I didn't know what to do, so I just—I just drove."

It was so good to see him, even this version who looked a little drained of his usual big crabstick energy.

And he'd come here to apologize. That meant something to me.

He wanted me to come home.

Home .

I smiled a little. "I changed my number. That's why you couldn't reach me. I needed to distance myself from Heather," I admitted. "But Mac and Larry have my new number. Chloe too."

Will made a face. "They, uh, failed to mention that."

I heard a cough from down the hallway. Frowning, I leaned out to investigate, but Will said abruptly, "What are all these boxes? Are you leaving?"

His focus was on all the moving boxes stacked around the apartment. Most of the furniture that hadn't been sold had been prepped with moving blankets and wrapped in plastic, but there wasn't a whole lot of it left.

Will stepped into the room a few feet, taking it all in.

"About that," I said.

But he stopped, his boots squeaking on the hardwood when he noticed my open laptop and the two women waving on the screen.

Tentatively, he held up a hand.

"It's so good to see you, Will!" Pippa's high-pitched voice emerged from the speakers.

"About damn time, Lumbersnack," Cece said, frowning. "Took you long enough to pull your head out of your admittedly nice?— "

I lunged and closed the computer with a snap that seemed to reverberate in the air. "Sorry," I breathed, kneeling on the floor.

"Don't be," he said, holding out a hand to help me up. "She's right. I should have been here weeks ago. Hell, I never should have let you leave like that in the first place." He closed his eyes briefly, his warm calloused hand going tight around mine. "I am so damn sorry, Becca. I missed you. I just—I missed you."

That time, I did manage to say it. "I'm sorry too. I said some really terrible things that were none of my business."

"But you were right. And it is your business because I'm your business and you can say whatever you want to me. I don't want you to walk on eggshells just because I'm an ornery asshole. I'll do better. I swear to you. Can I just—" And with that, Will broke off and pulled me to him, wrapping me up in a hug that had my eyes welling with tears and my chin wobbling.

He felt so good—so right—and I'd missed him too, more than I thought possible. My arms went around his middle, and I squeezed him back hard.

I heard him breathe me in as I buried my face in the soft fabric covering his chest.

"What's going on, Becca? Where are you going?"

Swallowing around a hard lump of emotion, I admitted, "I'm coming home. Back to Kirby Falls."

Will leaned away, his expression warring between joy and confusion. "What?"

"I probably should have told you. But I was already coming back. I didn't want to stay away. And I realized I was never going to be happy here." I took a deep inhale, and then I admitted the really scary reality I'd been living since deciding to pack my things and go, "When I thought about all the places I could go, my heart only wanted Kirby Falls. Even if you didn't want me. Even if?—"

"Honey, no," Will interrupted. "I want you. I couldn't not want you. I wanted you before I even knew you. I was aching for something in my life, and there you were, dropped down in my oak tree. Becca, I love you. I came here to bring you back home. Not to some rental or the tiny house. Home with me. To our house. "

Emotion swelled inside me—so much love and happiness. Will's admission made me brave, so I confessed right back, "I love you too. The only place I want to be is with you. I missed the town and the farm and your family and our life together and Carl."

At my last word, there came a loud bark from out in the hallway.

My eyes widened, and Will grinned. "I'm shocked they were able to keep him away from you for this long."

"They?"

But just then, Carl bounded up, jumping and licking and so darn excited to see me. "Who's a good boy? That's right. It's you. Yes, you are. I missed you too, Carl."

When I straightened, I caught sight of several figures lingering in the hallway. "Oh my gosh."

Soon, I was enveloped in hugs from Mac and Larry and Will's mother and father. And they all had on the same green sweater. "I can't believe you're all here," I said, through my laughter and excitement. "And what are you all wearing?"

"Can't keep us out of things," Mac said with a wink. "And we'll let Will explain that."

"I have to say, Becca babe," Larry added, grinning, "I'm relieved that you finally have some drama, and I can ride to your rescue for a change."

I smiled at my friend.

"We wanted you to come home too, sweet pea," Maggie said, squeezing my hand. "It's not just Will who loves you. It's all of us. And so many others back in Kirby Falls."

William smiled, quiet and warm at his wife's words. "We missed you."

"I'm sorry about the way I left. So very?—"

"Hush, now." Maggie smiled. "None of that. Now can we load up some of these boxes? We have a hotel for the night nearby. But we can be on our way in the morning. "

I grinned at the prospect of being back in North Carolina by this time tomorrow. "The movers are coming in the morning."

Maggie cupped my cheeks. "Well, we'll take a load of stuff down now and give you two some time to catch up."

Will watched us with a soft look on his face and smiled when he caught his mother's gaze.

After another round of hugs and a moving box for everyone, Will's family made their way back down the hallway toward the elevator. Carl protested, but he went with them.

I led Will back inside and closed the door. "What's with the matching sweaters, Will?"

"Right," he replied, straightening and reaching toward his back pocket. Hanging halfway out was rolled-up green fabric. "This is for you."

I took the sweater he offered and held it up to get a better look. It was soft and definitely looked like an ugly Christmas sweater. It didn't light up or have ribbons or anything, but there were rows of alternating items—apples, snowflakes, ears of corn, black bears—all separated white lines in a Fair Isle background pattern. It looked like a Christmas sweater fit for Grandpappy's.

"I know it's not a B for Becca, but I thought it would make a nice new tradition for the holidays in a few weeks. And my family was on board."

Lowering the fabric, I met Will's earnest gaze. "You got me a matching sweater?"

"Well, yeah. I know we don't have gray hair and wrinkles yet, but we have to start somewhere."

I thought about that afternoon at the Orchard Festival, pointing at the old couple wearing the sweet potato and yam shirt. "Gray hair and wrinkles," I echoed softly, pretty sure my heart was going to explode and take me with it. The only thing I could love more than matching with Will would be matching with his whole family.

A hint of uncertainty crept into Will's features while I emoted inwardly nearby. "If you don't want it, that's okay. "

I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and rising on tiptoe to kiss his lips. He helped me out, bending forward and then lifting me off my feet.

When our kisses softened and my fuzzy socks met the hardwood floor once more, Will said, "I'm so glad you're coming back to Kirby Falls."

I pressed one more kiss to his bottom lip before admitting, "Before this summer, I didn't realize I could ache for something I'd never known. Like a small town full of life and love and mountains and so many amazing people. Friends and family and unconditional love." And a man who was serious and reliable. "I was homesick for you, Will. And I didn't even know it."

Will's hands were gentle, stroking up and down my back. "Kirby Falls was always meant to be yours. And so am I. No matter where we go or where we end up, I'll be your home as long as you'll let me."

My hands strayed to his hair as he looked at me with so much love I could hardly believe it. "I want to be with you. Working on the house and playing softball and at the farm and going to festivals. All of it. And I'll run all the interference you need with Old Man Armstrong or whoever tries to bother you."

With a smile, Will said, "About that. I started working on the house. I can't wait for you to see it, but I want your help making decisions and figuring out what to keep and what to make our own."

"I can do that," I agreed eagerly.

"And I talked to my parents, and I'm going to be taking a big step back on the farm."

"Oh?"

His hand paused briefly on my back. "You were right, Becca. I wasn't happy with how things were. I was finally honest. We're going to hire a manager to oversee Grandpappy's. Someone to make the schedule and handle putting out the fires and filling in when it's needed. MacKenzie already threw her hat in the ring, and I'm supporting her. But she's going to interview along with a few other candidates. I'm going to be working strictly on the accounting. Mom said I'm only allowed to work remotely for the first six months to make sure I don't fall into old habits."

I grinned at that and so did Will .

"And I'm taking the coaching job at the high school next fall. I spoke to the principal and I've already started on the classes I'll need to be hired as head baseball coach."

I squeezed his shoulders in excitement. "I am so proud of you. That's amazing. I know you're going to be great."

Will looked down for a moment, bashful and completely adorable. "Thank you." He paused but I waited, knowing he was gathering his thoughts. "I was so worried for such a long time about being this former athlete cliché—coaching at my own high school. It seemed like my life was just stuck in reverse, spinning my tires. But I'm working on getting over my hang-ups and remembering the good parts of playing baseball. I have always loved being part of a team, and I'll get to do that again. Just in a different way."

Leaning forward, I hugged him again, so very proud of the decision he'd made.

"Becca?"

I pulled away to look at him. "Hmm?"

"What happened with your sister? Did you tell Heather you were leaving?"

It was instinctual to want to look away, avoid the topic, and enjoy our reunion. I didn't want to bring everything down by discussing what had happened. But despite that feeling, I knew I couldn't avoid the topic forever, and Will deserved to know.

Swallowing around a gigantic lump in my throat, I confessed, "I cleared things up with the prosecutor, and Heather was released a few weeks ago. It was a parting gift, really. I told her it would be the last time I lied or covered for her. I realized that you were right?—"

"No." Will cut in. "I never should have said those things. It wasn't my place."

I shook my head. "Your words hurt, and maybe you didn't go about it the best way, but you were right. Heather was never going to change. She'd been using and hurting me for a long time. To know that she would have broken in my home to take what she wanted solidified the hurt a little more. She's never thanked me or appreciated anything I've ever done for her. And she's never once treated me like a sister. So I told her I was leaving, but I didn't tell her where I'd be. I put the apartment on the market and then I changed my number. I'd probably be pretty easy to find on social media, but it was another little jab to know that my sister would never even bother to look."

Will's rough hands—the ones I loved so much for their dependability and their strength—cupped my jaw, fingers sliding into my hair. "I am so sorry, honey. You deserve to be loved without stipulation. Without feeling like you need to earn it, over and over again."

I nodded, believing it for the first time in a long time. Over the years, I'd tried so hard to fit in that I'd forced it. All the favors I'd offered. All the ways I could earn my keep and earn my place. I wanted to be part of something, and for the first time, nothing about Kirby Falls felt like I needed to weasel my way in. I loved the sense of community among the people there. And I knew I'd be one more piece of the puzzle, snapping neatly into place with a whole host of friends and neighbors to help me should I ever need it.

I'd hung on to my grief and this apartment so that even without her here, I could still prove that all Mrs. Walters had done for me had been worth it. I couldn't keep trying to pay off the same debt for the rest of my life. And if she were here, Mrs. Walters would have shaken me and told me to stop trying to people-please her in the afterlife.

With Heather, I was only really losing the possibility of a sister. The fantasy I'd built up in my head.

It was time to live my life for myself, with the people I wanted to surround myself with, in a place where I actually felt at home.

I'd had several sessions with my therapist since I'd been back in Detroit. We were going to continue our meetings remotely, working through my issues with my family and the boundaries I now had in place. I felt like I was making progress.

"And, me and my family—we're not trying to replace anything you've lost," Will said gently. "Family doesn't always have to be the one you're born into. You know that already. You had your Mrs. Walters. And Cece and Pippa. And you can have all the crazy Clarks and a town full of people who love you." His thumb swiped beneath my eye. "And you can have me."

"I want that." I sniffed. "I really do."

Will stayed with me on my final night in Mrs. Walters's apartment, wrapped in a colorful crocheted blanket. He didn't complain about the air mattress once, even when we woke up mostly on the floor at 6:00 a.m.

The movers packed up all my belongings not long after, and I set off on a road trip with the man I loved and the grumpy dog of my dreams.

Mac and Larry drove ahead of us in Mac's car. And Maggie and William brought up the rear. We stopped for lunch and snacks along the way, meeting up at rest areas and stretching our legs.

When we hit Tennessee, Mac made us all take a slight detour to East Knoxville to go to the Pizza Palace. But when we tasted the pie in the old-school place, no one complained.

Will drove while I sang Tom Petty, and Carl howled in the back seat.

It was the best trip I'd ever been on. Well, maybe the second best. Nothing compared to the first time I set foot in Kirby Falls. The peace I'd felt in the mountains had been perfect. Not to mention the man I'd seen scowling his way across the farm.

Glancing over at the driver's seat, I grinned. I couldn't help it.

Will laughed a quiet, happy thing that hit me right in the feels. "What's that smile for?"

It was for every incident that had brought us together. An oak tree that reached toward the rich blue Southern sky. A tiny house that gave me more than just shelter when I'd needed it. A farm that I ached to explore for the rest of my life. Mountains and forests that called to my soul. A book of four-leaf clovers pressed between pages that held memories right along with my heart.

"Nothing," I finally said, barely able to get the words out with my smile stretched so wide.

We hadn't even hit the North Carolina line, and I knew I was already home.