No More Secrets: A Small Town Love Story (The Pierce Brothers Book 1) (29 page)

By all previous measures, I’ve made it. I am a success. I have everything I ever wanted.

So what if my “friends” are advertisers that require schmoozing, designers who can’t remember my first name, and a handful of acquaintances who know nothing more about me other than where I bought my last pair of shoes? Who cares that I spend every minute of every day trying to write things that will make you buy something? A magazine, a beauty product, a fabulous winter parka. Does it matter that the shoes hurt my feet? Or that I haven’t spent a Saturday night doing what I wanted to do since college? It’s fine. Right? I have everything I want.

I also have cancer. One year ago I was diagnosed with adult Hodgkin lymphoma. I spent weeks sneaking off for treatments and hiding my reactions to them. If work found out, paid medical leave could have been the kiss of death to my senior editor aspirations. I didn’t even tell my parents. I didn’t want them to worry. But mostly, I didn’t want to be vulnerable.

But that’s what cancer makes you, vulnerable. And scared. And I let it isolate me. After aggressive treatment through a clinical trial I went into remission. Six months out, my tests were clean. Tomorrow, I find out if I can say “had” or “have.” Tomorrow I find out what the future holds.

Recurrence is always a concern and so are the side effects of the treatments, including infertility. I hadn’t given kids and family much thought. At least not until once I met a man with a heart as big as the blue moon. One who made me start asking myself questions instead of just firing them at other people.

If you’ve been following my blog, you know that this summer I had the pleasure of spending time in Blue Moon Bend, N.Y., on Pierce Acres, a family-owned and run organic farm.

And it was in Blue Moon that I fell in love. With the town, with the people, with the sense of belonging and community that residents there are born with. There is no jockeying for position, no backstabbing, no trying to get ahead. Just neighbors helping neighbors. People trusting each other.

I fell in love with the town and I fell in love with a man.

Those photos? They don’t do him justice. You can’t see the soul of a man through glossy pictures. You can’t see the brave heart that carries the scars of a warrior. You don’t get a hint of the noble character, the steadfast loyalty to family and country. You aren’t able to understand what happened when he discovered the healing power of a foundation of vulnerability and honesty.

So I fell in love and I got scared. And I ran back to the city where I felt safe in my anonymity, my path.

And here I sit with a manufactured, runaway digital success. Alone.

So I quit. And I’m going to do something bigger and more beautiful than even I dreamed possible. I’m going to write about real things, about health and wellness and community. I’m going to share the stories of people who have fought and won against disease, who have created a new way, who are making a difference, of the men and women who are shaping our future. Those are the people I want in my life. The people you should want in yours.

I went to Blue Moon to write about goats and organic tomatoes. Instead, I fell in love and everything changed. I met a pig and went vegetarian. I realized the healing nature of mother nature from the food we use to fuel our bodies to the sunshine that warms our skin and the fresh air that makes you take that first deep breath when you walk out the door in the morning. Most importantly I learned that our real strength is in vulnerability. In facing and living the truth no matter who’s watching. That is where we are strongest. I learned this from Carter and you should have, too.

Carter, I owe you a huge apology for taking your trust and then letting someone distort your story. I owe you an even bigger apology for running away when I got scared. I never meant to hurt you. I can’t ask you to forgive me, but I can show you what I wanted everyone else to know about you. Here’s the piece I originally wrote, which was rejected by the editors who substituted it with their own content.

I’m sorry and I love you.

––––––––

S
ummer copied and pasted her article into the post and added some of the pictures she took during her time in Blue Moon. She headed the post with Carter’s first selfie. Two quick rounds of proofreading and she hit Post.

She closed the lid of her laptop and sighed. It was done. She was going to put on her boots and go for a walk in the park ... and then maybe panic about the future that she had just wiped clean.

A
low roll of thunder woke Summer the next morning, instantly reminding her of the rainy morning she had spent in bed with Carter. Her next thought — and another regret — was of the better part of the bottle of wine she had polished off before bed.

She sat up and reached for her phone.

10:20?

She had forty minutes to get dressed and cover the twenty blocks between her apartment and her oncologist’s.

Summer scrambled out of bed and dragged on a pair of jeans and a stretchy short sleeve sweater. She was reaching for a pair of sandals when the boots caught her eye. If anything would give her luck today, Carter’s boots would.

She pulled her hair back in a low messy knot on her way out the door.

Thanks to some ill-timed, poorly placed construction, Summer had to jump out of the taxi a few blocks early and race through the misty rain before scurrying up the office stairs with a minute to spare.

“Good morning, Summer,” the receptionist greeted her warmly. “We’ve been talking about you non-stop all morning!”

Summer signed in. “Really? Why?”

“There she is!” Summer’s oncologist, Dr. Armenta swept into reception. Tall and slim, she moved like a ballet dancer. “I’m dying to know, have you heard from Carter?” Her eyes sparkled behind her wire-rimmed glasses.

“How do you —”

“Your blog!” The receptionist chirped. “We all read it yesterday. It’s all everyone is talking about. We’re so excited for you!”

“Well, come on back and we can talk,” Dr. Armenta said, taking Summer’s arm.

She led her back through the suite to her office. “I love your boots. Can I get you a drink?”

Summer sank down in the first visitor’s chair facing the desk. She’d sat in this exact seat for her six-month results, so might as well continue the tradition.

“Before we begin, I have to tell you how proud I am of you,” she said, folding her hands on her desk. Her unruly red curls were escaping the braid that lay over the shoulder of her white coat. “You know that I didn’t agree with your desire to handle your diagnosis and treatment alone.”

Summer winced and nodded. Dr. Armenta had made it clear on several occasions that she thought Summer was making a mistake.

“Support plays a very important role in healing. And I was concerned by your choice to cut yourself off from that support,” the doctor continued. “So you can imagine my delight when I read your blog. The entire staff was texting back and forth last night. You went from having virtually no support network to thousands of supporters.”

“I have?” Summer frowned in confusion.

Dr. Armenta smiled. “Haven’t you been monitoring your blog?”

Summer shook her head and again thought of the Chardonnay that had gone down so smoothly last night.

“Well, then I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” Dr. Armenta said. “Let’s start with how you feel today.”

“I’m fine, thanks. I’m nervous.” She let the words tumble out of her mouth. Honesty. Vulnerability.

“There is nothing to be nervous about. We’re in this together,” Dr. Armenta said, turning her computer monitor to face Summer. “These are your white blood cells from a year ago when you were diagnosed.”

She moused over the screen showing the abnormal cells. She clicked to another image. “Now, these are your results from six months out. Clean.” She opened one more image. “And this is where you are currently.”

––––––––

S
ummer made it down the steps of the stately brownstone and onto the sidewalk before the tears came. They warmed her cheeks just like the September sunshine that had broken through the clouds. She was crying in public and she didn’t care.

Overwhelmed, she didn’t even care that a watery blur of a man was standing there watching her from one building down. She was overdue for this and wasn’t going to rush herself through a good cry.

“Summer?”

“Carter?” she swiped tears from her eyes. There he was in the flesh. Wearing his trademark jeans and a t-shirt, he had a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his hand. “Carter!”

She didn’t even realize she was running until she heard her boots on the concrete. He caught her in mid-leap, boosting her up and holding her close.

Summer brought her hands to his face.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.”

“How did you find me?”

“Nikolai snagged the name of your doctor out of a calendar appointment once in case he ever needed it.”

“Sneaky bastard.”

“Tell me everything, honey.”

She kissed him hard on the mouth. “In order of importance: I love you. I’m so sorry. And I’m cancer-free.” She punctuated each announcement with a kiss.

Carter crushed her to him, burying his face in her neck.

“I love you so much. When I read ...” he stopped, tried to clear the emotion that was clogging his throat.

“Everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. I’m so sorry for not telling you. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I think I can find it in my ‘big as a blue moon’ heart to find some forgiveness. But you have to promise me you won’t ever keep something like this from me again or I’ll feed you to Clementine.”

Summer cupped his face in her hands. “I promise you, Carter Pierce, that I will trust you and love you and drive you crazy from this day forward.”

“Nothing would make me happier.” He spun her around, teasing a laugh out of her throat.

A dog walker with a Chihuahua and three Yorkies scurried past them without looking in their direction.

He grinned, big and bright. “You realize what this means to the Beautification Committee, don’t you?”

“I think we’re going to make that committee very, very happy,” she said, kissing him again. She pulled back to look into his eyes. “Carter, there’s something else you need to know. It may change how you feel.”

His fingers tightened on her hips. “Summer, you’re about to say something that isn’t going to matter to me in the least and I’m going to get pissed again.”

“Infertility can be a side effect of some of the treatments I had. I might not be able to have kids.” She blurted out the words before they could get stuck in her throat.

“I was right. You’re pissing me off.”

“I’m so sorry —”

He let her slide to the ground, but when she tried to take a step back he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Summer. We haven’t even talked about kids. How do you know I want them?”

She shrugged under his hands. “You’re a Pierce. You’re destined to be a family man.”

“And you think I’d rather choose a life with someone who can get pregnant with children I don’t even know if I want instead of you, the stubborn, illogical woman I love more than anything?”

“I’m making a mess of this,” she groaned.

“Yes, you are. But you’re new at this so I’ll cut you some slack,” Carter said, pulling her into him. “For the record, I haven’t given kids a thought. Could I see us with a family? Sure. Someday. But it doesn’t have to be now, and it doesn’t have to be the way everyone else does it. There’s more than one way to make a family.”

Summer looked down, but he nudged her chin up. She saw only love in his eyes.

“Honey, I’m not upset that we might not be able to have kids. I’m upset that you think it would change how I feel about you.”

She smoothed the t-shirt over his chest enjoying the feel of him under her hands.

“I’m so sorry for so many things. For not telling you about any of this. For running away when I got scared. For underestimating you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin.

“Summer.” Her name on his lips was like a caress and she knew she was forgiven. “Jax read your blog last night and came tearing into my bedroom yelling and carrying on. All I caught was ‘Summer’ and ‘cancer.’ It scared the life right out of me.”

She winced. “I was so scared. I’ve been so scared for so long that it started to feel normal.”

“Where are you now?” he asked.

She smiled against his chest. “Right where I want to be. In your arms, with a wide-open future in front of us. There’s just one thing that I want right now.”

“What’s that? Name it and I’ll make it happen.”

“I want to go home. Will you take me home?”

“Of course.”

“We can swing by my apartment first so I can pack.”

Carter leaned her back to study her face. “Home to Blue Moon?”

“Home to Blue Moon,” she nodded.

He swept her up in his arms again, spinning them around in a circle. Summer laughed.

“As soon as I introduce you to Dr. Armenta. She’s a big fan of yours.”

She felt a vibration against her hip.  “Oh my God! My phone’s been on silent since yesterday,” she said, reaching for her pocket.

“You have about thirty missed calls from me,” Carter said, lowering her to the ground.

Summer dragged her phone from her pocket. Her eyes widened as she read the caller id.

She glanced at Carter as she swiped the screen to answer. “Hi, Dad?”

Two weeks later.

––––––––

S
ummer wiggled in excitement on the stool.

“Listen to this one, Carter,” she said, clapping her hands.

Carter grinned from the stove where he was pouring the evening’s leftover vegetable soup into glass containers. “I’m listening.”

Summer cleared her throat and began to read the email out loud.

––––––––

D
ear Ms. Lentz,

We at Eve’s Garden were thrilled to read about your plans to start a digital magazine that focuses on real life health and wellness. As a creator of an entirely natural and cruelty-free cosmetic line, we would love to discuss advertising opportunities with you...