Don't Let Go (39 page)

She pinked up again. “He did, actually. Came by a couple of hours ago—with a date.”

“Really?” I said, warmth flooding me again. “Good for him. He needs someone.”

Heavy music started up nearby, rumbling the very sidewalk under my feet.

“Go check out the band,” Linny said. “I heard they are supposed to be good.”

Okay, so far the carnival wasn’t a complete bust. I had to admit it. Even with the silly snowflakes hanging—wilted and floppy in some cases, spiky wooden weapons in others—it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was the company.

Walking around hand in hand with Noah made the very air around us feel full of magic and promise. It was like being a teenager again in an old body.

We bought a slice of cake, and the look in Noah’s eyes as I fed it to him was priceless. I was pretty sure my fingers and toes had frostbite, but I no longer cared.

We reached the makeshift bandstand, which was really an oversized tractor trailer in front of the gazebo, and the band was pretty good. And when Noah grabbed my numb gloved hand and pulled me into his arms for a slow dance, I decided it was the best band ever. I’d even buy their CD. Yep, I was a teenager again.

Noah’s arms wrapped inside my coat, and his face came down to mine as I pulled him closer.

“Don’t let go,” I mumbled against his mouth.

“Never,” he said, smiling at the words, shutting me up with a slow warm kiss that moved my blood all the way to my fingertips and back again.

The whole town disappeared as the music vibrated the air and I was enveloped in everything Noah. His scent, his taste, and the feel of his body. And I wasn’t stealing a forbidden moment or taking what wasn’t mine. Noah Ryan was mine. Had been since that long ago day with the Dr. Pepper. We’d just
been on hold
for a while.

I chuckled as the song ended and he glanced at his watch.

“Somewhere you have to be?”

“Kind of,” he said, winking at me. “Come with me.”

He led me around more food booths, where I found Nana Mae and another lady loading up on funnel cake.

“What are you doing out here in the frozen tundra?” I asked, giving her a hug.

“Getting my sugar high on, sweetheart,” she said, nudging the other woman who had just stuffed a large doughy piece in her mouth and proceeded to laugh around it. “Trolling for old men. You know Clara Sullivan?”

“Hi, I’m Julianna White,” I said, holding out a hand and chuckling at my grandmother.

“So nice to meet you sweetie,” she said. “Mae talks about you all the time.” And then both women looked at my date.

“This is Noah,” I said, looping my arm with his. “Noah Ryan.” I looked Nana Mae in the eyes. I didn’t know what to call him, but it didn’t matter. She knew my heart.

“Nice to see you again, Noah Ryan,” she said, a knowing smile warming her face.

Noah hugged her, making her widen her eyes at me like a school girl. “Nice to be back.”

“How did you get here?” I asked, touching her arm. “Mrs. Sullivan drive?”

“We got a ride,” she said with a wink. “Now, you two go do what you were headed to do,” she said. “I’ve got fried crap to indulge on.”

I laughed, and eyed that funnel cake, making a note to revisit that. It had been many years since I’d indulged in that. Lord, how I’d fallen. We twisted and turned through the rides until we emerged on the other side, looking at the park.

“I think we have a date with a bench,” he said.

Warm tears touched the backs of my eyes, but they were happy ones. And that in itself was a miracle for this day. Happiness instead of hollow, empty regret. Having a face and a personality to put with the memory of what we created.

It being
Seth’s birthday
, instead of
the day we lost everything.

“I think you’re right,” I said, linking an arm in his and hugging him to me as we walked the winding path.

It was odd and somewhat surreal to walk it with him instead of alone. But that was nothing compared to the view that awaited me when we rounded the last bend.

Standing in front of our bench was Seth.

• • •

I blinked in the low light glowing from the solar lamps and my whole body buzzed with energy.

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed, letting go of Noah and running to him.

Seth laughed as I tackled him, hugging him tight. “Surprise,” he said.

I let go and backed up, holding his beautiful face in my gloved hands. “Oh, holy crap, you aren’t kidding,” I said. “Happy birthday, baby.”

I knew I was crying and didn’t care. He’d seen me weepy more than not, and one day I might not cry every time I saw him, but I wasn’t there yet.

“I figured this birthday warranted something a little different,” he said, smiling down at me with Noah’s young face. “And when Noah told me about this place and how it all went down—well, I remembered the painting in your living room. Thought it was fitting.”

My chin trembled and I nodded. There were no words. I turned to gaze at Noah as he strolled up, hands in his pockets, always the casual yet spring-loaded pose.

“Happy birthday, bud,” Noah said, pulling Seth to him in that backslapping man-hug thing that guys do. “Good to see you again.”

“You knew about this,” I said.

He widened his eyes at me. “I’ll never tell.”

I shoved at him and turned back to Seth. “Have you had a good day?” I asked. “Did you get cake? There’s about fifty pounds of it back there,” I said, pointing behind us.

He smiled guiltily. “Actually, I did. Earlier,” he said. “I met Becca and her friend and hung out with them for a bit. She made me have cake. Two pieces.”

My jaw dropped. “Seriously?” That explained the random smiley faces. That girl.

“I made her promise not to tell you,” he said.

I loved it. He hung out with his sister. Oh, holy hell, I loved it so much I was going to cry again.

“And Linny?”

“Yeah, her too,” he said.

I wiped at my face and reached for them both. “I love y’all,” I said, overcome, hugging them tightly to me. Then I turned to face Noah, trying to convey with my eyes everything I was too emotional to say. He dropped a sweet kiss on my lips, telling me he got it all.

“This is new,” Seth said.

“Took your advice,” Noah said with a small grin.

“Glad to hear it,” Seth said, chuckling.

“Enough with the man code,” I said, linking arms with both of them and walking to the bench. Our bench. “What advice?”

“None,” Noah said. “You don’t need to know everything.”

Used to think I did, but I had to say, I was learning.

“Suffice it to say,” Seth said as we sat. “That all appears to have worked out.” He glanced sideways at me. “Kinda cool that y’all are back together,” he said. “Like it’s all come full circle.”

Noah was quiet and I looked at his profile as he gazed off at where the river glistened black and sparkling.

“What are you thinking?” I asked softly, nudging him.

“Full circle,” he echoed. “The music back there,” he said. “Sitting here on this particular day, the three of us.” His voice grew husky and I knew what he was going to say. “The last time we were all here together was the day he was born.” Noah looked at both of us. “Now, here we are. Together again.” He blew out a breath and shook his head, facing forward again. “I never thought I’d see this day.”

I wiped the tears that were streaming down my face too quickly to freeze there, and I noticed Seth discreetly rub his eyes as well.

“Seth, I’ve come out here every year,” I said. “And this is the best birthday of yours I’ve ever had.” He laughed and I laid my head against his shoulder. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Wouldn’t have wanted it any other way,” he said.

As I looked out at the river, my two guys on either side of me, I realized my chance had finally come.

“That painting in my living room,” I said, lifting my head to look at him. “It’s yours.”

“What?”

“I did it for you, a couple of weeks after you were born,” I said. “In my mind, it was a gift to you. Something to save the moment. Something my mother couldn’t steal.”

Noah’s other hand came over mine.

“It was all I had of you, but now it’s not,” I said. “I have more than a memory on a canvas now. I have the real thing.”

“You’re giving it to me?” he asked.

“If you want it,” I said. “I’ve been holding it for you for a long time.”

“I’d love it,” he said, blinking away. “Thank you.”

I was wrong before, thinking I’d had the perfect January 29. Now I had. Nothing could ever top this. Not ever.

Then Noah started laughing.

“What?” I said. Then I saw it. “Oh, holy—”

“Yeah,” Noah said.

Two snowflakes drifted down between us. Then three more. It wasn’t possible. Zero odds.

I met Noah’s eyes and remembered that other day—as snow began to fall, with his LifeSavers clutched in my hand and his words about miracles.

Our son was right. We really had come full circle.

Nana Mae’s Mississippi Mud

Cream together:

2 cups sugar

1 cup butter (the real thing)

1/3 cup of cocoa

Add:

1/4 tsp. salt

1 cup oil

4 eggs (one at a time.)

1½ cups self-rising flour

1½ cups chopped nuts

2 tsp. vanilla

Bake in a 9x13 pan at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. While hot, spread one jar of marshmallow creme on top of cake and let cool (10 minutes).

Then mix this together separately:

½
cup butter (or 2 sticks margarine, melted)

1 cup chopped pecans

1 tsp. vanilla

1 box (16 oz.) powdered sugar

1/3 cup of cocoa

1/3 cup of Eagle Brand condensed milk

Spread on top of cooled cake.

Enjoy!

Keep reading for a sneak peek at

Stay with Me

by Sharla Lovelace,

coming in summer 2014!

Chapter One

I can’t say that I was proud of myself. Whoring out my perfectly healthy rat terrier-mutt-turned-possibly-a-Labrador just to get a moment with the hot new veterinarian—well, it probably wasn’t one of my more upscale moments. The old me would have been disgusted with such a girly move, but I ignored that thought.

On the flip side, my Gracie was the best maintained dog in town. And thought a trip to the vet was a playdate.

“It’s Gracie Barnes again,” said one of the smiling receptionists as the other two came around the counter to greet her wiggling bulk. Everyone loved Gracie. “Is she having a problem?”

“She’s itching really badly,” I said as Gracie scratched on cue. You’d think we rehearsed this. “I don’t see a single flea, but she scratches constantly.”

“Okay,” the girl said. Her name tag said
Gretchen
. Gretchen had a look that said she knew what my game was. “Dr. Spoon is in surgery, so she’ll have to see Dr. Weatherly.”

I tried to keep the lip curl off my face, but I felt it. Dr. Weatherly was a crusty old woman who looked like she ate small children in her free time. That was probably unfair—I’m sure she was a very good doctor. She ran the clinic solo for fifteen years before hiring on Duncan Spoon, so she must have done something right. And my dad told me that she was at the top of her class back in high school. But her bedside manner was—well—left at home. Possibly in a house made of candy.

“That’s fine,” I said, smiling back.

“It’ll be just a minute,” she said, winking.

I turned to find a bench seat, thankful as usual not to recognize anyone in the lobby. Which was silly. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Still, the twitch I felt coming on had a voice. A voice that sounded ironically like me a decade or so earlier. This was what getting old does to you. It makes you crazy. And sink to levels you would have laughed and pointed at with disdain in your prime. There was a happy thought.

Gracie wasn’t bothered a bit. She was wiggling from head to toe from all the attention she was getting.

“Come on, Gracie girl,” I said, pulling her along with me.

She followed for two whole feet before the need to go say hello to the dachshund and pit bull in the room was just too strong. The dachshund wasn’t in a social mood and made a big to-do before retreating under his owner’s chunky legs. Said owner then gave me the
“really”’
look. Which I then gave back to her. I mean, come on.

The pit bull was very friendly, however, and willing to play. And her owner was more interested in her cell phone than in my waning vet lobby etiquette. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her.

“What kind of dog is that?” Dachshund-lady asked, eyeing Gracie as if she were an alien being.