THIRTY-SEVEN
SERENA
I sit cross-legged on the floor of my parents’ living room, a tiny porcelain teacup balanced in one hand and a stuffed unicorn in the other. Across from me, Ruby pours imaginary tea with an exaggerated tilt of her plastic teapot while Grace places imaginary cookies onto plastic plates. The girls are both in their favorite dress-up clothes. Ruby in a tutu and sparkly tiara, Grace in a pirate’s costume complete with pink fairy wings that keep slipping off her shoulders.
“Auntie Rena,” Grace says, peeking at me through a veil of golden curls. “Would Mr. Fluffles like lemon or strawberry tea?”
I smile and lift the stuffed unicorn’s mouth to my ear before turning back to Grace. “He says he’s feeling more strawberry than lemon today.” I adjust the stuffed animal on my knee and give it a little bow. “And only if it comes with two sugar cubes and the biggest cookie on the plate.”
Ruby giggles and pretends to choose one of the imaginary cookies. “Only the best for Mr. Fluffles.”
The laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me, real and warm, and for a moment, I let myself soak in the normalcy of it. The girls’ chatter. The smell of Mom’s cinnamon rolls drifting in from the kitchen where she’s cleaning up from after-school snacks. Outside, Dad is shoveling snow from the drive and whistling to himself.
This house wraps around me like a favorite sweater. Staying here has been the perfect distraction from the mess in my head. The mess of my life.
I tuck a curl of hair behind Grace’s ear as she starts serving her imaginary guests. I don’t want to think about the future right now, but I can’t stop my thoughts from swirling. What does my life look like as a single mom? How will I afford everything? What about my career and my entire world back in Denver?
I keep picturing myself on the sidelines of the field, the cheer squad behind me, the stadium roaring around me. Except I wasn’t there last night. I watched from the couch, holding my breath as always as the cheer squad nailed their routine, hating that I wasn’t with them. Wishing I had been. Then clutching the edges of my blanket and willing the Stormhawks to win, crying quietly when they did. Crying harder when I saw Chase, helmet under his arm, hugging Jake. Lying awake most of the night feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. Wishing I knew how to imagine a future that doesn’t have Chase in it.
“Would you like more tea, Auntie Rena?” Ruby asks, her big brown eyes blinking up at me.
“Yes, please,” I say, lifting my cup. She fills it with air, and we clink our cups gently together.
This. This should be enough. My parents. Elle. My nieces. Small-town vibes nestled in between the foothills of Clear Creek Canyon. The air filled with fresh snow and the smell of pine needles. But something still doesn’t feel right.
There’s a knock at the front door and then footsteps in the hall. A second later, my mom peeks into the room. Her high cheekbones and blonde hair make her a smaller, older mirror of me and Elle. “You have a visitor, Serena.”
I glance up, expecting Liv maybe, or Elle. But then Chase fills the doorway. The sight of him takes my breath away. He looks so damn good. Hulking frame taking up the doorway, deep brown eyes that find mine instantly, strong jaw clenched like he’s holding something back. His head is freshly shaved, and he’s wearing a tight black sweater that clings to his broad chest. I start to stand, but before I can even get my hands beneath me, Ruby and Grace squeal.
“Uncle Chase!” Ruby shouts. “We’re having a tea party! Can you join in, too?”
He smiles in a way that makes my knees feel weak, and I’m glad I’m sitting down already. Then he drops to the floor like it’s the most natural thing in the world, sliding into the spot beside me, displacing a teddy bear, which he dutifully props up in his lap. Our knees touch. Just barely. But it’s enough to send a jolt through me that leaves me reeling. My head might be trying to imagine a future where Chase isn’t mine, but my heart and body didn’t get the memo. Even through the deep ache of his rejection, all I want to do is lean into him.
“Congratulations on the win,” I say quietly.
“Thanks,” he replies, voice thick with something I can’t read. He opens his mouth to say something more, but Grace tugs on his sleeve.
“Do you want ice cream cake or chocolate cake?”
Chase pretends to consider it seriously as he stares at the empty plates. “It all depends. Has the ice cream melted?”
Grace giggles like he’s just told the funniest joke in the world and, for a strange few blissful minutes, we play pretend. He’s charming and patient and so good with them it makes my chest ache in a whole new way. How can he think he isn’t cut out to be a dad?
When the girls dart off to the kitchen to beg Grandma for the cinnamon buns, I turn to him, forcing my voice to stay steady. “What are you doing here, Chase?”
He looks down at the carpet, then back at me, deep eyes filled with apology. “I really fucked up, Serena. And I know I don’t deserve anything, but… I need you to come with me. I have something I’d really like to show you.”
I blink, take a breath. For weeks, all I wanted was for Chase to reply to my messages or call me on the phone, turn up at my apartment. And then he walked away when I told him about the pregnancy. When I needed him most. And now it’s not just me I have to think about. Not just my heart I need to protect.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I reply. “Maybe we could meet for coffee sometime next week and talk.”
Instead of arguing, he reaches into his back pocket. When he hands me what’s inside, I nearly laugh out loud. It’s a glittery card, the bright yellow faded with time. I recognize my nine-year-old handwriting, neat if not a little wobbly.
Happy Birthday Chase
I open the card and read the inscription.
Sorry I’m ill and can’t come to your party. This card gives Chase one special playdate with Serena. Whenever he wants.
The start of a smile tugs at my lips. “You kept this?”
“As if I could ever throw it away,” Chase says softly. “And I’m calling in my playdate.”
I stare at him. Uncertain. “What?”
He points to the card. “It says right there that you promise me a special playdate, and I’m calling it in.”
“There has to be an expiration date on this thing,” I protest, flipping it over.
“Nope.” He grins.
My heart hammers wildly. I shouldn’t say yes. But my mouth doesn’t get the memo either. “OK,” I whisper. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We say a quick goodbye to Mom, who looks like she’s trying not to smile. Then I climb into Chase’s truck. Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling up outside his house at Oakwood. And it takes me a moment to see beyond the beauty of the lake and the pines and the snow on the ground. To see what’s different. Surrounding the house is a neat, white-painted picket fence.
“Fence looks pretty,” I say, wishing there wasn’t a quiver to my voice. “You did that?”
Chase makes a face. “Me with a hammer and wood? No way. It was all Dylan. And I owe him big because he wasn’t too happy about it considering the frozen ground.”
“Why did he do it, then?” I ask. I don’t know why, but I hold my breath as I wait for the answer.
Chase looks at me and says only, “Come inside.” Then he jumps out of the truck and jogs around to open my door. He looks like he might take my hand and even though I want him to, the memories of him walking away from the diner are still raw in my mind, so I hug my arms around myself, drawing back.
A minute later, Chase opens the front door of his house with a lavish movement. Unlike the fence, I see the changes instantly. Throw pillows in forest green and deep grays. Pictures on the walls. Candles on the side. Ornaments. Color and life.
“Wow,” I say, turning slowly to take it in.
“I chose everything myself,” he says, giving me a shy smile. “With some guidance from Izzy, Harper, and Mad,” he adds as I pick up a wooden sign that reads:
This house is built on love and coffee.
He smiles. “Apparently giant inflatable pineapples don’t scream ‘home’.”
I laugh. Of course, Chase would want inflatable pineapples.
“There’s more,” he says quietly. His hand reaches out, hovering in the air, asking me to take it.
I fight the pull that feels like it’s tugging at me from deep in my soul. Because however much I want to take Chase’s hand and be swept up in his excitement, I have to be the one to think about the future. “Chase, I’m happy you’ve got all this stuff, but I’m not sure why I’m here or why you’re showing me.”
“You said I needed to choose a home. And I have.” He takes a step forward, his eyes locked on mine. My breath hitches, pulse hammering. “And that home is with you. Here, I hope, but it can be anywhere. My home is with you. I love you, Serena.”
He moves suddenly, like he’s just remembered something. A second later, he opens the door into the study at the front of the house. The walls are pale blue and there’s a gorgeous print of Colorado etched in silver on the wall. There’s a beautiful dark-blue armchair, and candlesticks by the window.
“I didn’t know what to do with this room when I first moved in, but then I realized what it would be perfect for.” He points to three stenciled words on the wall above the map I didn’t notice before.
Weather with Serena
“You can record your daily weather forecast in here. And?—”
“Chase, I love you too,” I cut in, fear pushing to the surface, cracking my voice. “You’re my soul mate. You’re my person. You always have been. But I’m not going to force you into a life you don’t want.”
Chase is quiet. Tears swim in his eyes. I think he’ll turn away, but then he reaches for my hand. I let him take it this time, his grip warm and strong and right.
“Can I show you one more thing,” he says, voice choked as he leads me upstairs and opens a door.
I gasp.
Inside is a nursery. Soft yellow walls. A white crib. A rocking chair. Baby elephant teddies on the floor. The room smells faintly of fresh paint and lavender.
“My home is wherever you are,” he says again. “I love you. I’ve loved you since third grade, and I’ve been too chicken to admit it. I thought pushing you away was protecting us, but all it did was break both our hearts. I want to be the man you need. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect or that I’ll ever be good enough for you, but I can promise to show up for you and our baby every single day.” He draws me into his arms and the steady strength of his body. “You make me whole.”
Tears spill onto my cheeks as Chase tilts my chin up, his eyes searching mine. His expression is hope and love and everything I feel pushing to the surface inside me. I thought love was supposed to look like a fairy tale. But standing here in a room filled with stuffed elephants and hope, I know love is about choosing someone. Fighting for them. Being brave enough to believe in a future together.
I throw my arms around him. When his lips find mine, fireworks explode behind my ribs, and my stomach makes the wild dip of a rollercoaster. But underneath it all is something deeper. It’s connection. It’s home. It’s him.
I draw back, my eyes finding his. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you’re ready, because?—”
“I’m ready,” he cuts in. “I want everything, Serena. Daily weather reports and weird facts and midnight drives for frozen yogurt. Diapers and toys in the yard and a big noisy family with you.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m done waiting.”
He laughs, drawing me close. Lips a whisper from mine.
“Chase?” I say.
“Yeah?”
“We’re having twins.”
The deep rumble of his laugh fills my body, and then his lips find mine, and I know I’ll never get enough of kissing this man. Chase is right. Home isn’t just a place. It’s people. It’s family. And I’ve finally found mine.