Chapter Fifty-Five
Mila
Late January
Everett’s truck is there at the curb when I come out of the airport doors, dragging one large suitcase and carrying a smaller bag and a cat crate. I shiver at the icy blast of wind that smacks me in the face.
He jumps out and rushes toward me, catching me in his arms for a warm hug. “Hey, you.”
“Hi.” My heart thumps with excitement at seeing him again, and my eyes fill with tears, the way they always do. The separations have only gotten harder over the last couple months, every goodbye and each reunion more emotional than the one before. But this time is different.
This time, I’m staying.
When I open the rear door on the passenger side, Merlin greets me with an excited thump of his tail against the seat.
I scratch his ears before placing Beatrix’s crate next to him.
“You two play nice back here,” I tell them before hopping in the front.
Everett takes my hand as he pulls away from the curb.
When I left last October, we promised each other we’d never let more than a couple of weeks go by without a visit, and we’ve stayed true to those words. Twice, I flew back to Hart’s Landing, and twice, Everett came out to New York.
Once was in December. We stayed in the city, Christmas-shopped along snow-dusted avenues, admired the tree at Rockefeller Center, and had insanely hot hotel-room sex.
The second time, earlier this month, he came to Brooklyn, and I introduced him to Jess.
While he was in the bathroom, she grabbed me in a hug and congratulated me on finally finding a guy who deserved me.
My mother was a different story.
We’re on speaking terms, although they’re tepid on my part and cool on hers.
Hugo and I have talked a lot about the best way to handle mending fences, which he says I only have to do if I want to.
Just because she’s my mother doesn’t mean I owe her endless chances to stop making me miserable.
And just because we’re going to live in the same town doesn’t mean I have to involve her in my life.
Over the last few months, when I’ve visited Hart’s Landing, I’ve always let her know I was available for coffee or lunch, but I never stayed with her.
At first, she was so furious that she refused to see me.
But eventually, she gave in and treated me to silence over lattes or salads.
Sometimes, she tried to provoke me with derisive comments, but my skin is too thick now for her barbs to penetrate.
I can’t say she never got to me, but it was rare.
As expected, she has opinions about my permanent move back to Hart’s Landing.
She thinks it’s rash and unwise, and she foresees only disappointment ahead.
When she realized I didn’t even plan to stay with her while I looked for a place of my own, she set her fork down with a clank.
“Are you never coming home again? What have I done to deserve this?”
“I’m making a new home,” I told her. “And if you want to be part of my life, you’ll support me.”
She went silent, but I supposed it was better than a fight.
“Did all my boxes arrive?” I ask as Everett merges onto the highway.
“Yes.”
“Sorry it’s so much stuff. I promise to get it out of the cabin as soon as I find a place.
” On my last few visits, we looked for an apartment but didn’t find anything just right.
I’ve also looked at condos and small homes, but they’re still beyond my budget at this point.
The cabin is cozy, and Everett said I was welcome to live there, but there really isn’t enough space for two people on a permanent basis, not to mention a cat and a dog.
And there’s no extra space for me to set up an office.
Tomorrow, I’ll resume the search.
“No rush.” Everett puts a hand on my leg, and I love the reassuring weight of it. Love the wide, calloused palm and the strong, dexterous fingers.
Half an hour later, we turn into McKean Cherries, which looks magical blanketed under a foot of snow.
My artist’s eye drinks up the late morning sun glittering across pristine expanses of white that ripple like waves across the lake.
The buildings are closed up tight for the winter, giant icicles hanging from the eaves.
Color is provided by evergreen trees, their branches heavy with snow, and by the occasional red cardinal or blue jay braving the cold to hunt for food.
“This place is so beautiful, even in winter.” I wish I had time this afternoon to draw the way the snow clings to gnarled black branches against the periwinkle sky, the pop of a red barn in the distance. Maybe I can make time. After all, I won’t be able to unpack much of anything at the cabin.
Distracted by the question of which colored pencils I’d use to capture the tones in the snow, I don’t even notice when Everett pulls into the driveway of the main house instead of continuing around back toward the cabin. When he turns off the truck’s engine, I’m confused.
“Did some of my boxes end up here?”
“They’re all here.” Something a little mischievous is hiding in his smile. He reaches into the back seat for Beatrix’s carrier. Merlin jumps out too. “Let’s go in.”
“They’re all here?” I jump out of the truck and follow him up the shoveled path to the front door. “Why?”
Without answering, he turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open. Merlin bounds into the house, but Everett steps aside and gestures for me to enter first. “After you.”
Tentative without knowing why, I walk into the front hall.
It’s completely silent and smells like furniture polish, old wood, and this morning’s coffee.
A few seconds later, I hear Merlin slurping water in the kitchen.
Everett closes the door behind us and sets the carrier down.
Then he wraps his arms around me from behind. “Welcome home, baby.”
I spin around to face him, my arms dangling limp at my sides. “Home?”
“If you want it to be.”
“With your mom and Gabi?” I glance right and left, wondering where they are.
“Two days ago, we moved my mother into the new condo complex down by the water. She wanted single-floor living, and this place was too big for her to keep up. She’s been hinting about it for months now.”
“Where’s Gabi?”
“We moved her into the cabin.”
My head is spinning. My heart is galloping. I put my hands on Everett’s shoulders and meet his eyes. “Wait a minute. What’s happening?”
“I’m asking you to live with me. Here.” His arms tighten around my waist. “I don’t want to be without you, Mila.
Every night you’re not asleep beside me feels wrong.
Every morning when I wake up, I want yours to be the first face I see.
If being in love long-distance taught me anything, it’s that I never want to waste a single moment being apart when we could be together. ”
“Everett.” My voice is as fragile as tissue paper. “Are you sure?”
By contrast, his voice is solid as rock. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” His eyes light up. “Come upstairs. I want to show you something.”
He takes my hand and leads me up the steps, each one groaning as we make our way to the second story. Tugging me gently down the hall, he pushes open the door to his former bedroom. It creaks as it swings wide.
I gasp, my hands flying to my cheeks. Inside the room are my boxes, pushed along the back wall.
But what has my stomach quivering and tears springing to my eyes is the drawing table set up near the east-facing window.
Light streams in through the glass, illuminating the table’s surface, which holds many of the supplies I’d sent ahead.
My drawing lamp and pencils. Hot-pressed watercolor paper and a magnifier. A ruler and paint brushes.
“I wasn’t sure what actually goes on the table,” he says hesitantly. “And I wasn’t certain which window you’d like either, east- or south-facing, but the table has wheels so you can move it around.”
“Oh, Everett.” I turn and fling my arms around him. “It’s perfect. I don’t know what to say.”
His arms come around me. “Say you’ll stay.”
I can barely get the words out. “Of course I will. This is better than my wildest dreams.”
“I want to make every single one of them come true.”
“You are. You have.” I pull back and look up at him, uncertain my body can contain the happiness filling me up. It pulses inside my heart and races through my veins and swims through my head. “You will.”
He kisses me, and it’s sweet and romantic. It’s hopes and dreams and promises. Every inch of my skin tingles, and I know without a doubt that this house will contain my life’s most beautiful memories.
But it’s not long before the time apart catches up to us.
Everett’s hands wander beneath my sweater.
My palm slides down the front of his jeans.
He unhooks my bra with an easy flick of his fingers.
I moan against his lips as his cock swells against denim.
The kiss is different now. It’s heat and greed. Hunger and demand.
Our clothes form a pile around us on the floor, and we sink down on top of them, too impatient to leave the room.
And when he moves inside me, I don’t care about the hardness of the oak floor beneath my back or the bruise I’ll probably have on my tailbone or the fact that I didn’t get my leggings all the way off and they’re still bunched around one shin.
All that matters is that I’m here. I’m his. I’m home.
We finish quickly, our bodies anxious to share that familiar pulse after weeks apart.
After catching his breath, Everett braces his hands above my shoulders and looks down at me.
“I love you. Maybe it took us ten years to get here, but I plan to make up for lost time by putting you first every chance I get, every way I can, for the rest of my life. I know I’m not perfect and I’m going to make mistakes, but I will never, not for a single moment, take you for granted. ”
I thread my fingers into his hair. “I love you too. You’re the best man I know, Everett McKean. It doesn’t matter that we got a slow start—what matters is that we’re here now.” I smile with my whole heart. “And we’re here forever.”