Chapter 17 #2
“You actually give amazing hugs. You’re like a big, strong teddy bear,” she said.
I smiled, though inwardly I was cringing. God, was there anything less sexy than a teddy bear? Not that I should even be thinking in those terms.
Sweeping that thought aside, I pulled her in for another hug an held her until her body relaxed.
And I made a plan.
When Wayne and I approached the front door later that night, my shoulders were tense and I was second-guessing myself. Was I overstepping? Was this inappropriate?
Maybe, but I’d try anyway, because there was a chance this would do some good.
A few seconds after I knocked, Ellie opened the door and made a beeline for Wayne who licked her face in greeting.
Celine immediately came to the door, always on alert, but when she saw me, her face softened.
The memory of holding her today hit me hard, and my neck heated. It had felt right. Like I was supposed to be doing it.
“I was wondering if I could talk to Julian,” I said.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Sure.”
She gestured for me to come inside. In the kitchen, Maggie, who was hunched over her math homework, gave me a big smile.
Julian sat next to her with his headphones on, building a Lego structure.
“Bud.” Celine squeezed his shoulder.
He looked up, and when his attention drifted to me, he took off his headphones.
“Hey, Julian,” I said, pulling out a chair. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
In response, his eyes widened.
“I don’t know if you heard, but at the Harvest Festival coming up. There’s this race.”
“The pumpkin race?” he blurted.
“Yes. It’s technically any gourd, but yes. See, my dad and I always competed in it when I was a kid. I miss doing it now that I’m an adult, so I was thinking I should get back into it.”
“It sounds so fun. Jacob is doing it with his dad,” he said, but then his shoulders slumped. “But I can’t because my dad’s in jail.”
“Julian,” Ellie screeched, her face blanching.
“Stop,” Maggie told her. “It’s the truth. Who cares if Josh knows?”
Ellie crossed her arms, huffing in answer.
“And while I could do it alone,” I said. “It’s not as much fun without a partner. And I don’t have any kids of my own.”
Julian’s eyes sparkled with hope, the simple expression making my chest ache.
“So I was thinking, do you want to do it with me? Be my race buddy?”
He jumped out of his chair, knocking the Lego creation to the ground. “Mama. Mama.” He pulled on the hem of Celine’s shirt. “Can I?”
She was peering down at him, her eyes glassy.
“It’s a lot of work,” I explained. “But if you’re up to it and your mom says okay, I brought paper so we could start drawing out our ideas.”
He jumped up and down, his auburn hair flopping.
“Okay,” Celine said softly, her eyes now locked on mine. “You can do the race.”
Chaos erupted, all three kids cheering and throwing out ideas. So we all sat at the table, brainstorming. Maggie thought we should make our gourd look like a horse, while Julian obsessed about finding a big enough pumpkin.
“My buddy has a farm about an hour from here,” I said. “He grows the really big ones. Maybe we could take a ride up there this weekend and pick one out. Then this week, we’ll hollow it out, design the boat, and make sure it floats.”
All three kids looked at Celine.
“Sure.” She shrugged. “But only if you all behave. Your beds need to be made every day, and the trash needs to go out before it’s overflowing. And”—she zeroed in on Ellie—“you’ve got to finish your algebra homework.”
With a scoff, her oldest daughter went back to her binder on the couch, clearly motivated now.
We spent an hour planning, and Julian even built a model out of Legos, but when Celine told him it was time for bed, Wayne and I headed out.
I’d just hit the bottom step when Celine stopped me.
“Thank you,” she said.
I dipped my chin. “You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the race. For all of it.” She wrung her hands, her head bowed. “Today was weird and sad but also somehow good. And just—thank you.”
“You did good. You’re doing good. Please don’t doubt yourself.”
She looked up, and when her eyes met mine, a flame ignited in my chest. I wanted to close the gap between us and pull her into my arms again. Give her the comfort she needed. Be quiet and strong for as long as she needed me.
“I didn’t think people would just… say yes,” she whispered.
“We haven’t won America’s Most Charming Small Town every year for the past two decades by not being good to one another.” I paused, holding her gaze. “People here show up when you ask.”
We weren’t just talking about festival decorations and we both knew it.
“I see it.” She sighed. “Even though I struggle to understand it.”
My heart clenched. I’d grown up here. I didn’t know another way of life, yet she couldn’t understand the simple kindness the people of Maplewood always led with?
Clearly Celine hadn’t had the kind of support system she deserved.
But the joke was on her, because this tiny town had fully adopted her and her kids.
“You need to get used to it. You’re one of us now.”
The doubt on her face faded as she studied me, searching for the lie and coming up empty, and she broke into her true smile.
It only made me more determined to help. Because our little project wasn’t about hayrides or decorations. It was about showing her that not every knock ended badly. And sometimes, when a person asked for something, the door actually opened.