Chapter 19
Celine
Iloved my sister.
Truly. Deeply.
But she was a drill sergeant in Lululemon and Louboutins.
She was the eldest daughter stereotype on steroids. The kind of woman who didn’t so much arrive as deploy.
Within hours of stepping through my front door, she had done loads of laundry and was cooking freezer meals to leave for us. She even had Gus under the hood of my car. If I blinked wrong, she’d probably do my taxes and color my hair.
Her protective instincts knew no bounds. Or chill, for that matter.
“You look good.” She stepped into my space, tucking a lock of hair behind my shoulder like she was checking for injuries.
“I am good.” I batted her hand away and took a step pack. Personal growth, apparently, looked like asserting my bodily autonomy with my sister.
She narrowed her eyes, assessing, like she wasn’t totally convinced by my declaration.
My kids were running around with Simone, Chloe’s three-year-old daughter, who was obsessed with her older cousins in that special way a tiny person can be.
She had arrived in a tutu and work boots, a combination that was aggressively on brand for my niece.
She was an absolute force of nature, much like her mom.
Who was currently assessing me a little too closely. They’d arrived yesterday, gladly accepting our invitation to join us for the Harvest Festival, and had checked into the Thistle Inn and Spa.
But I suspected that this visit would also include an inspection.
“You sleeping?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Eating enough?”
Not really. But I wouldn’t admit that out loud. “Yes.”
“Locking the doors?”
I crossed my arms. “Did you create a spreadsheet to keep yourself organized for this interrogation, officer?”
“Don’t get cute.” Her lips quirked.
The situation with Donny had brought us closer, but in many ways, I still felt like the little sister, trailing behind her as she collected straight A’s, trophies, promotions, and every gold star in existence.
She was a CEO, for God’s sake, and she had a devoted husband who followed her around like she was the sun. She’d gotten pregnant unexpectedly in her forties and had delivered a healthy, joyful child like it was no big deal. She’d always been a goddamn superhero.
And I was just … me.
Though as I surveyed her, our kids playing around us and the whole town buzzing all week about the festival I was helping organize, it hit me.
I wasn’t waiting for her approval anymore.
I was good. Not perfect, but doing pretty damn good.
“I’m okay,” I said, holding her eye. “I’m not falling apart. The kids are thriving. I love my job. Life here is pretty good.”
She studied me for a long moment and sighed. “That’s inconvenient. Because I miss you guys so much. I want to kidnap you all and take you home to Maine.”
Warmth unfurled in my chest. “I miss you too. But I’m good here. I promise.”
Once Chloe had folded another load of laundry and started the dishwasher, we headed into town so we could show her and Gus around.
The festival preparations were underway, the town green full of tents, stages, straw bales, and lots of electrical wiring.
I had no idea how this would all transform in twenty-four hours, but I knew better than to doubt Maplewood.
Jasper gave me a big smile when we walked past where he and a few guys dressed in blue with MFD printed on their shirts were hanging lanterns. Several people greeted us as we meandered, including a handful of kids who waved to Julian.
“Did you run for mayor and not tell me?” Chloe asked.
I huffed. “We live here. And I teach at the school.”
“And people are super nice,” Maggie added.
When we reached Pie in the Sky, Gus held the door open, and the kids scrambled in, headed for the large booth in the corner.
The pizzeria smelled like yeast and garlic, the vibe warm and comforting.
The twinkle lights and red checkered tablecloths made the place cozy, and the old leather booths and mismatched tables that had seen years of spilled sodas, homework assignments, and long conversations that outlasted the food told a story of just how treasured this place was.
It wasn’t fancy, but it wasn’t trying to be.
The food was amazing, and Tony, the owner, was one of the kindest folks in town.
Restaurants weren’t part of our normal routine due to cost and Julian’s eating challenges, but even he loved Tony and his pizza, or the crust, at least.
Tony and Marco waved from the open kitchen while Ellie procured a stack of menus and Maggie snagged a pitcher of water.
After much debate about garlic knots and garlic bread, we went with the knots, and the kids spent the next several minutes talking over one another about school, the farm, and the upcoming festival.
“Aunt Chloe, we hollowed out a giant pumpkin,” Maggie announced, pouring water for everyone.
Ellie shook her head. “No, not just giant. Like, a massive pumpkin. The size of a hot tub.”
Julian pushed up to his knees in the booth, holding his arms out as far as he could. “Even bigger than this. It was wet inside. And stringy.”
“Kind of smelled dirty, but also sweet,” Maggie said.
“I’d say it smelled like a compost heap,” Ellie added.
“Josh gave us shovels.” Maggie dropped into her seat, her chin lifted. “Real ones, not kiddie ones.”
Brows jumping, Chloe looked at me.
I shrugged, helpless and amused. “They were supervised.”
“We dug and dug, and we had a big dumpster for all the pumpkin guts.”
Julian, who was practically vibrating with excitement now, knocked over a saltshaker. “But we had to be careful. The walls have to be thick. For secular integrity.”
“Structural integrity,” Ellie corrected.
He shook his head a little wildly. “It’s important to be integrated.”
Angling forward, Chloe giggled. “Why?”
Julian frowned, looking at his aunt like that was a silly question. “For racing down the river.”
“Time out.” Gus, dressed in flannel like always, shifted Simone on his lap and put his elbow on the table. “You’re racing a pumpkin in a river?”
Hands splayed on the table, Julian beamed. “I’m the captain.”
“He picked the pumpkin too,” Ellie said, looking at him with genuine affection that made my heart expand.
“I had to find a brave one,” Julian explained. “It had scars. And I could feel it.”
“That’s on brand,” Gus muttered.
“We used power tools,” Ellie added casually. “And I got to hold the hack saw.”
Brow furrowed, Chloe looked at me.
“Josh used them,” Maggie corrected. “Ellie got to hold if for like a second while Josh showed her how he was going to cut the top off. She’s exaggerating.”
Ellie stuck her tongue out at her sister.
“We were safe,” Julian said. “Josh loves safety rules.”
Lips pursed, Chloe sat straighter. “Josh? The landlord?”
I ignored her raised eyebrows and played with the striped straw in my water glass. “He’s… thorough.”
“And funny,” Maggie gushed. “But not like ha-ha joke funny. More…”
“Dry funny,” Ellie chimed in.
“He pretends not to smile,” Julian said. “But he does. And he’s listens really good.”
“His dog Wayne is the best,” Ellie added.
“And he packs great snacks.”
“He bought my special crackers for our trip.”
As they continued blurting out praises, my face flushed.
“He remembers that I don’t like loud noises,” Julian said. “He warns me before anything noisy happens.”
My chest tightened with an unfamiliar ache. It was strange the way they chatted about Josh so casually. Like he was just this safe, dependable presence in their lives. Yet at the same time, it felt natural.
Chloe caught my eye, and my face flamed again. Thankfully, Marco and Tony stepped out from the back, bringing our meals and rescuing me from my sister’s scrutiny.
It took several minutes to get the kids situated with slices and refill drinks, so by the time I set a slice of pizza on my plate, I was confident that I was off the hook.
I was wrong.
“I didn’t realize you were such good friends with your landlord,” Chloe said, picking up a piece of her fig and prosciutto pizza.
I chomped down on a too-big bite to delay my response and shrugged. “He and I are planning the hayrides for the festival. That’s all.”
“Sure.” Ellie snorted, studying her pepperoni.
“And he and I are going to win the pumpkin race,” Julian declared.
“With the giant pumpkin you hollowed out?” Gus asked.
Julian nodded. “The kids here race with their dads. But since my dad’s in jail and Josh’s dad died, we’re doing it together.”
“He’s super cool,” Maggie said. “I’m trying to talk him into getting goats for the farm. I think I’ll wear him down soon.”
Chloe’s lips twitched as she took us in. It wasn’t just the new town, the new school, or the farm. My kids were talking and laughing in a way they hadn’t in years, in a way that showed that we were no longer just surviving.
Maybe, just maybe, we’d worked our way out of survival mode and into living. Into thriving and succeeding.
On the walk back to the parking lot, the kids, who’d inhaled too much pizza, groaned, their feet dragging, and I prayed to every known deity that they’d go to bed early tonight so I could crash.
The town green was buzzing now, lanterns glowing and townsfolk darting around with extension cords, full of last-minute chaos.
Pride filled me as I watched, because Josh and I weren’t rushing around, stressing like the rest of the town.
We had gotten ahead of it. The tractors and trailers were all decorated and ready.
The route was cleared and, miracle of miracles, all the places along the way were ready.
Despite Josh’s insistence otherwise, I assumed he had something to do with how efficiently all the decorations went up.
Even Mr. Fletcher had put out a skeleton kicked back in a recliner with a remote in hand. And for him, I was told, that constituted festive enthusiasm.
“Josh,” Julian shouted, taking off down the sidewalk at a high speed.
My heart leaped, and Ellie lunged for him. But Josh intercepted him easily, picking him up and swinging him around before setting him back on his feet.
He kneeled and leaned in close, murmuring something that made Julian giggle as we caught up.
“Maggie,” he said next, “you were right about the chickens.”
She crossed her arms and held her head high. “Told you.”
“Ellie. How was the astronomy test?”
She gave him her patented bored tween stare. “Easy.”
“Good thing you studied then.”
If I’d told her that, she’d have rolled her eyes and argued, but for Josh, all she did was dip her chin.
He stood, wiping his hands on his work pants, and turned my way. When he noticed my sister and her husband, he froze.
“Oh, hi,” he said, his attention drifting to me.
“This is my sister Chloe, my brother-in-law Gus, and my niece Simone,” I said, finally remembering my manners.
Josh shook Gus’s hand and waved at Simone, who was riding on her dad’s shoulders, then turned to Chloe. “I’ve heard a lot about you. The scary one.”
She glared at him, looking him up and down, then turned to me and nodded once. “I like him. Seems smart.”
Wow. That was high praise from Chloe.
Her family headed back to the inn shortly after dinner, and I got the kids into bed. Tomorrow would be a long day.
I was exhausted. And happy.
I’d just finished brushing my teeth when my phone buzzed.
Chloe: we will be discussing your landlord. Very soon.
Celine: I have no idea what you mean.
Chloe: Don’t be cute. We LeBlanc women have a type.
Celine: We do not.
Chloe: Really? So we haven’t both gravitated toward bearded grumps built like linebackers?
I giggled despite myself. Okay, Josh did bear more than a passing resemblance to Gus. But Josh was younger and taller and objectively hotter. With lighter hair, a shorter beard, and a wardrobe that occasionally extended beyond flannel.
Chloe: And he couldn’t stop staring at you.
Celine: I’m tired. Got to go to bed.
Chloe: Denial is not growth.
I climbed into bed and put my phone down, still smiling.
My sister was relentless. I had no doubt she would wear me down.
But I wasn’t ready to answer her questions about Josh.
Not yet.