2. Evangeline

TWO

EVANGELINE

T he first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow across my room. I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling, but the warmth that usually comes from snuggling deep under my covers doesn’t reach me. My chest feels heavy, like there’s a weight pressing down on me, keeping me pinned to the mattress. I know why, but I don’t want to think about it.

Yesterday was supposed to be like every other Christmas season in Deer Ridge—busy, cheerful, filled with the warm-heartedness of family and friends. But last night changed everything.

When Zane told me about the job offer in New York, I pretended not to hear the excitement in his voice or see the glee in his eyes. I know this is likely an opportunity he shouldn’t pass up, but we have a semester of school left, and taking an internship—especially when we have signed a lease on an apartment— doesn’t make sense. If this firm truly wants Zane, they’ll wait for him.

I roll over, and grab my phone off the nightstand. No new messages. A surge of disappointment washes over me. I don’t know if I expected him to text me, as if nothing happened last night, or whether to assume he’s so busy at the store and hasn’t had the time. The latter is completely unlike him, and the hollowness in my stomach isn’t making the situation any better.

All of this feels wrong. There’s a crack in our foundation, and I don’t like it. Zane may have said he wouldn’t take the job last night, but there was a hint of sadness in his tone. The last thing I would ever do is hold him back from something that’ll advance his career, but he knows how I feel about New York City. Boston, I can handle. Even Albany is better. NYC is full of vultures, preying on the weak and vulnerable. It’s the type of place Zane and I vowed to steer clear of. And yet, he somehow has an internship on the horizon. One he likely had to apply for.

The pit in my stomach grows, making me queasy. Why would he apply there, knowing I would never go? And why wouldn’t he be honest and tell me about it? We don’t have secrets between usat least, I thought we don’tand so I can’t help feeling this is some kind of betrayal on his part.

I push myself out of bed and head downstairs. The smell of coffee and Alma’s freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafts through the house. My mom is already in the kitchen, humming softly as she takes one of her famous pies out of the oven. The sight of her doing what she’s always done—preparing for another busy day at the tree farm—brings a small measure of comfort to me.

“Morning, honey,” she says when she sees me. “Dad ran over to Alma’s for breakfast this morning.”

Alma’s Bakery on Main Street is one of the mainstays in Deer Ridge. Every day, there’s a line out the door of people waiting for her cinnamon rolls.

“Thanks, Mom.” My stomach growls while also twisting with nausea.

My mom brings the roll over and sets it down in front of me. The homemade frosting drips down the sides, pooling on the plate. I’m starving, yet I’m not sure I can take a single bite. I poke at the pastry with my fork, my mind drifting back to Zane. When I went to the store last night, I knew something was on his mind, and that he couldn’t tell me then, and the fact he only waited until I prodded him some more hurts.

“You okay, Eve?” Mom asks, her voice soft with concern as she sits down across from me.

I glance up, blinking away the tears that are threatening to fall over my lower lids, and clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She narrows her eyes, not buying it for a second. “What’s on your mind?”

I give her a quizzical look.

“I’m your mother. I know things.”

Mom isn’t wrong. We’ve always had a close relationship, and I’ve always trusted her. Pushing my plate away, I rest my forehead in my hands and sigh. Either I tell her now or she finds out later. “It’s Zane. We’re . . . something’s off.” That’s the only way I can explain it.

Mom nods slowly, waiting for me to continue. She’s always been good at that—waiting. She doesn’t push, doesn’t pry, and always gives me space to figure out what I want to say.

“You know how important internships are for Zane and me, right?”

She nods again. “Yes, I think you spent your first semester in a panic. Worried you wouldn’t have one come summer. But you did. So did Zane.”

“Right. We both worked in Boston our first year and Albany our second.”

While we worked in Albany over the summer, we got to stay with our parents. It was easy, especially since we still have to pay rent on our respective apartments in Boston. It had always been our plan to move in together at the start of our last semester to save money and start paying off our loans.

This time, when the tears threaten to spill, I allow them. I wipe at my cheek and clear the heaviness from my throat. “He got another internship offer—one that starts in January—in New York City.”

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “New York?”

I nod

“What about school?”

My head shakes back and forth. “I don’t know. He says he won’t take it, but my gut is telling me otherwise.”

“I’m assuming this is a big deal?”

“He says it is.” The tightness in my chest returns. “Yeah. It’s everything he’s worked for.”

Mom’s expression softens with understanding. “So, he would commute daily from Boston to New York? Surely, that doesn’t seem like a smart idea.”

“I don’t know, Mom. I saw it in his eyes. Zane wants this job and I’m not sure I’m enough to keep him taking it.” My voice breaks by the time I finish speaking. My hands cover my face to hide my tears.

Mom comes to me, wrapping me in her arms. “Eve, I’m sure Zane will figure it out.”

I nod, although I don’t believe he will.

“We’ve always talked about staying here, building a life together. Now, it feels like that’s slipping away. I don’t know, maybe I’m being unreasonable and should ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me otherwise.”

Mom squeezes my hand, her gaze steady and comforting. “Zane taking a job for six months doesn’t mean his plans have changed. This is life throwing things at you that you don’t always expect. But the important thing is figuring out what you both want—and whether your paths are still leading in the same direction.”

Her words hit me harder than I expect, and I pull my hand back, staring at the table. Zane called it a slight detour. “What if they aren’t?” I whisper.

The silence between us stretches, heavy with unspoken fears.

“I can’t answer that for you,” Mom finally says, her voice gentle. “But you and Zane have always been good at talking things through. Give yourselves time to figure this out.”

I want to believe that. I want to believe that Zane and I can work through this the way we’ve worked through everything else. But this feels different. This feels like the beginning of something I’m not sure I can stop.

An hour later, I’m finally dressed and heading outside to work my shift as Santa’s helper. Only, I don’t wear an elf costume, but a sweatshirt that says I’m the certified cookie tester. Mom and I have a pile of comical shirts we wear throughout the season. They definitely help when newcomers come to the farm and need to ask questions.

The tree farm buzzes with activity. Dad’s out front, loading a family’s truck with a freshly cut Christmas tree, laughing his jolly laugh. The December air is crisp, and the threat of snow lingers. We already have a decent amount on the ground, but when it snows, it puts people in the holiday spirit and right now, I could use some.

I rush into the shack—which is anything but a shack—and stand by the woodstove to warm my hands. My mom’s pies are on the table, along with an urn full of hot cocoa, some apple cider, and a plate full of Alma’s cinnamon rolls. My parents are all about community and if they can help someone like Alma, or any of the other businesses in town, they will.

The door opens and my best friend, Hayley Lawson, walks in with her daughter, Ines, on her hip. “Eve! Oh my, it’s so cold today. ”

“Too cold to snow, I think.” I reach for Ines and give her some snuggles. I’m her honorary godmother, whatever that entails.

“Otis says it’s going to storm once this cold front moves out today.” Otis is her high school sweetheart turned husband. Zane and Otis have been friends ever since Otis and his family moved to town, living next door to the Whitaker’s.

“I’m sure he’s right.” Instead of looking at Hayley, I make silly faces at her daughter. “Is Otis out with my dad?”

“Yeah. We tagged a tree over the summer,” she tells me. “No need for me to trudge through the snow to look at it again.”

“Definitely not.”

The gravel in our makeshift parking lot crunches. I look out and see a car parking. Handing Ines back to her mother, I go outside and greet the customers. After telling them about the the types of trees we have together with the prices, and mentioning we have complimentary cocoa, cider, and candy canes inside, I head back in.

“We stopped by the store this morning. Saw Zane.”

I’m completely caught off guard by Hayley’s statement. I fully expect her to stop by the store, as I expect Zane to be there. But there’s something in her tone, in the way she says “saw Zane” that causes my steps to falter.

And Hayley notices.

“What gives, Eve? And don’t say nothing because he looked miserable. ”

I groan, not wanting to talk about it, but knowing I should. Before I spill, I fill my mug and take a sip of the cocoa to warm my insides, and then I let it all out.

“Holy peppermint sticks!” Hayley says once I’ve finished telling her.

“I know. Part of me is happy someone wants Zane because he’s awesome and is going to make an amazing attorney, but the other part of me is angry and sad he would even consider taking the job.”

“And there is zero chance you could go with him?”

I shake my head. “Even if I wanted, I have a full course load to finish. It’s inconceivable for me to take a semester off.”

“But not for Zane?”

“He only has one class this semester, which would allow him to work,” I tell Hayley.

“So, he can work four days at this amazing internship and then commute to Boston for his class.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“You know, that’s a really great idea. I’ll bring it up. I mean, it would suck not having him there every day, but I’ll be busy studying.”

“There’s a bright side to everything,” she reminds me.

In theory, yes.

It isn’t until early evening, just as the sun is about to set, when we finally have a break. Now that Deer Ridge has lit the town Christmas tree, everyone flocks to get theirs. While I love seeing all our returning customers, it’s the new people who make me smile the most. They complement our shack and gush over our offerings.

With it quiet, I spend the reprieve working on wreaths and stocking our shelves with all our maple products: syrup, candy, barbecue sauce, and sugar. By the time we sell our last tree, we will be out of products.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and my heart skips a beat when I see Zane’s name on the screen. We’ve exchanged one-to-two-word texts most of the day, but nothing of importance.

Zane: Can I come by?

I stare at the message for a long moment, my mind racing while my heart twists and threatens to jump out of my body. He hasn’t asked if it’s all right that he comes by in I don’t know how many years. He’s always just here. I know what we need to talk about, and I’m not sure I’m ready. But I can’t avoid this forever.

Me: Of course.

I hit send and let out a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Tonight, we’ll have the conversation we should’ve had last night. And no matter what happens, I need to be ready for whatever comes next.

As the sun sets, the white lights strung along the eaves of the roof come to life. Slowly, one by one, the lights on the house, the large Christmas tree in the window, and the candle lights on the windowsills all turn on.

Zane’s truck pulls into the parking lot. Not the driveway. Does he suspect I’ll be in the shack or is this where he wants to chat?

From where I stand, I can watch him. He steps out of his truck, wearing a beanie and a wool coat. Zane looks down at the ground. Not uncommon during the winter, given the snow on the ground, but he’s definitely making it harder for me to see his expression.

“Hey,” I say softly, as he steps inside. He shivers, doesn’t offer me the best smile, and walks toward me and the woodstove.

“Hey,” he replies, his voice equally soft. There’s an awkwardness between us, a distance I don’t know how to bridge. He would normally greet me with a kiss or a hug.

Not tonight.

Zane holds his hands over the stove, warming them up while the silence grows between us. I try to keep my hands and mind busy, twisting ribbons into bows, avoiding the elephant in the room.

He clears his throat. “I’ve been thinking about the job. About everything.”

I nod, my throat tight. “Me too.”

He turns to face me. “Ev, I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know if I can turn down this opportunity.”

His words are like a knife to my heart, but I force myself to stay calm. “I know, Zane. It’s selfish of me to ask you to give it up also.” I inhale deeply. “You still have one class to take, and we have an apartment to move into. What if you tell them you can only work four days a week? You can commute back to Boston for class. I figure I’ll be studying my butt off anyway those other four days, so will be able to keep myself busy.”

Zane nods slowly. “Yeah, I like that idea. I told them on the phone I still had a class to finish, so it’s not a surprise, and I really don’t want to give up our apartment,” he says. “We’ve waited a long time to live together.”

He steps closer and pulls me into his arms. “I love you, Ev. More than anything. I promise, this will work out in our favor. Six months will be over before we know it, and then we’ll be on our path again.”

His lips press to mine, sealing his words with an unspoken promise.

One I’m praying he can keep.