Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
By the time Zoe got back to her place, the quiet reminder from her dad sat with her as she opened her laptop, settling onto the couch to review the slideshow for Brynn and Callum’s engagement party.
When John stopped by, he dropped onto the cushion beside her, leaning in close enough for his shoulder to brush hers.
She clicked to the next image—Callum, taller now, hair wild from the wind, standing on a frozen lake with a dog nearly his size at his side.
“That’s Boris,” Zoe said, smiling faintly. “Callum adored him. That dog once chased a snowmobile halfway across town.”
“I believe it,” John said. “He’s huge.”
Next came a photo of Brynn stretched out on a hammock, a book in her hand.
“Brynn is the quiet one?” John asked.
Zoe nodded. “Always. She used to bring a book to sleepovers and read under the covers with a flashlight.”
As the photos clicked past—summer softball games, Christmas cookie parties, hayrides, graduation caps in the air—Zoe’s chest warmed. “They never dated back then. Just…got each other. You know?”
“I can see it,” John said. “Some people have a rhythm that’s already there. They just have to grow into it.”
Zoe paused on a photo taken when they’d been home from college for Christmas. Brynn and Callum at a bonfire, standing side by side, smiling but not quite touching.
“That one,” she pointed. “That’s the moment. The one where I started wondering if there was something more.”
John glanced at her, his voice gentle. “You’re good at this. Pulling together all the pieces. Seeing the patterns.”
Zoe hesitated, her gaze lingering on the screen. Watching Brynn and Callum’s story unfold in snapshots made her ache in a quiet, hopeful way. Trust wasn’t something you leaped into. It built slowly, like this, tiny, ordinary moments adding up to something lasting. She wanted that. With John.
“I think that’s what love is,” she said quietly. “Not one big grand gesture. It’s all the little moments that add up.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just reached over, brushing his fingers lightly over hers. “So what about us? Think we’re building something like that?”
Zoe smiled, small but certain. “I think we are.”
John leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Then let’s make sure we save all our best photos.”
Zoe turned back to the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I hope you’re okay with the occasional blurry selfie and bad lighting.”
“With you?” John said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Every single one’s a keeper.”
She scrolled to the next photo, an awkward middle school snapshot of her and Brynn sporting oversized sunglasses and lips stained in their once-favorite shade, Forever Fuchsia.
Zoe groaned. “Oh no. I meant to take that one out.”
John chuckled, leaning closer. “That’s gold. Definitely slideshow material.”
“John,” she warned, narrowing her eyes.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, if we’re saving all our best photos, we’ve gotta start somewhere.”
Zoe shook her head, laughing despite herself. And as she clicked to the next slide, warmth unfurled in her chest. Her dad had been right. Piece by piece—that’s how you built something real.
Early the next week, the living room was quiet, save for the soft click of the remote as Zoe paused the slideshow in midframe. On the screen, a younger Brynn stretched across a hammock with a book in her hand, sunlight catching in her hair.
“Aww.” Brynn sighed.
“You always did love that photo,” Zoe said with a smile.
Brynn, curled up at the far end of the couch with a mug of peppermint tea, nodded. “It’s one of my favorites. I remember that day. Ruckus kept trying to jump in with me, and I wouldn’t let him. He sulked under the hammock for half an hour.”
Zoe laughed. “He showed up in more of these than I expected. That dog had perfect timing.”
“He was my baby,” Brynn said, her voice turning wistful. “I loved him so much.”
“Ruckus was a big part of your childhood.”
“He was.” Brynn paused, then smiled again. “The whole slideshow, the little tweaks you made after we last talked, it’s perfect.”
“Thanks,” Zoe murmured. “At first, I wasn’t sure how it would come together, but once I started digging through the photos, I couldn’t stop. It felt…right.”
Brynn studied her for a long moment. “You look lighter.”
Zoe blinked. “Lighter?”
“Yeah. Happier. And not just because you’re done sorting through hundreds of pictures.” Her smile turned sly. “Though I’m sure having John around to help didn’t hurt.”
Zoe glanced down at her lap, trying not to smile and failing. “You asked me the other day what I planned to do now that the expansion plan is finalized.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going back to the Bayshore,” Brynn said, a slight grimace pulling at her lips.
“Not a chance.” Zoe smiled. “I’m planning to talk to my dad. He’s always wanted me to be part of the Daily Grind, and for the first time…I want that, too. This corporate expansion is going to increase his workload tenfold. He’ll need someone like me, and I’m excited to work with him on it.”
Brynn’s expression softened with something between relief and pride. “He’ll be thrilled. And if it makes you happy, I’m all for it.”
Zoe swallowed hard, emotion catching in her throat. “It feels like it’s all meant to be, you know? It’s not the life I planned, or the one I thought I wanted, but it’s the one that fits.”
Brynn reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes it takes a while to find exactly where we belong.”
They sat in companionable silence, watching the slideshow flick through a few more images—Callum in a letterman jacket, Brynn in a snow-covered orchard, the two of them arm in arm on graduation day.
When Zoe spoke again, her voice was soft. “This party is going to be epic.”
Brynn smiled. “I can’t wait.”
Zoe watched another image flick across the screen—Callum and Brynn on a windswept bluff, arms wrapped around each other, joy in their eyes.
Maybe forever isn’t so impossible after all.
The day of Brynn and Callum’s engagement party brought a cool breeze and sunny skies. The scent of cinnamon and crisp leaves mingled in the air as Zoe and John strolled down Main Street, where wooden easels lined the sidewalks for the Fall Art Walk.
Paintings in every style—landscapes, abstracts, still lifes of pumpkins and sunflowers—stood propped along storefronts. Local artists chatted with browsers, and a folk trio played softly near the fountain.
Zoe’s arm brushed against John’s as they paused in front of a watercolor of the lighthouse, the sky behind it a swirl of violet and indigo.
“I love how moody this one feels,” she murmured. “Like the wind’s about to shift.”
John leaned in to study the strokes. “It’s bold and full of passion,” he said. “A little like someone I know.”
She elbowed him lightly. “Are you calling me bold?”
“Definitely passionate,” he added with a grin.
Zoe laughed, letting herself lean into his warmth for a moment. Being here with him—among neighbors and artists and the gentle hum of her hometown—felt like everything she hadn’t realized she was missing.
They moved on, pausing next at a collection of whimsical animal portraits. A bulldog in a beret. A cat in librarian glasses.
“This is the one,” Zoe said, pointing to a sheep wearing a scarf and holding a steaming coffee cup.
John studied it. “You think that’s me?”
“Obviously. The black coffee gives it away.”
He chuckled, pulling her a little closer. “And here I thought I was the rugged-wolf type.”
“Mmm… More ‘cozy cuddle with strong coffee’ energy.”
As they laughed, someone approached from the opposite direction. Zoe glanced up and froze, just for a second.
Felicity.
She wore a camel-colored coat and held a cup of cider in one hand. This morning, she was alone. Her gaze landed on Zoe, then flicked briefly to John. Felicity arched a brow, her tone dry. “Looks like the new guy has stuck. At least for now.”
Before Zoe could respond, she offered a brittle smile, turned and strode off.
Zoe exhaled, barely realizing she’d been holding her breath.
John turned to her. “That’s the woman we saw outside the Ding-A-Ling.”
“Felicity,” she said.
He nodded, but his attention was already shifting back to the art.
Zoe tried to do the same, but Felicity’s comment lingered, tethered to the memory of their earlier conversation outside the Daily Grind. The whispers. The way the town had buzzed after her engagement had fallen apart.
She hadn’t cared before.
She did now.
John touched her hand gently. “You okay?”
She glanced up, pushing the thought aside. “Yeah. Just…thinking about that sheep.”
He smiled, letting her deflection slide, and as they kept walking, the weight of Felicity’s words echoed faintly in her mind, like the final note of a song she couldn’t quite forget.
That evening, hazy streaks of peach and smoky violet painted the early evening sky as Zoe relaxed against the seat, the car winding past rows of fruit trees, their branches heavy with the season’s bounty.
Autumn had exploded on the Door County peninsula. Leaves were already blushing with color, though peak season was still a few weeks away. The air had that crisp edge to it, the kind that promised sweaters, cider and everything cozy.
John slanted her a glance, keeping one eye on the winding road. “Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?”
“Several times.” Zoe smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Though tonight’s party was meant to be more laid-back than formal, John had elevated his look—chinos and a collared shirt, topped with a blazer that gave him an effortless, quietly confident vibe.
Zoe had chosen a deep-blue wrap dress and sparkly heeled sandals. The way he’d looked at her when he’d arrived—eyes going soft, lips parting slightly—made her glad she’d worn something new.
“I’ve never been to a party in a barn before,” John said. “Not sure what I’m walking into.”
She laughed softly. “Trust me, this barn is like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
It was perfect for Brynn and Callum—charming, welcoming, layered with family history. “Jeremy and Fin are practically family. They’ve hosted everything from cider tastings to Christmas markets here. It’s homegrown in the best way.”
And it’s just the kind of party she would have wanted, had Erik given her a choice. Zoe couldn’t stop herself from remembering the towering ceilings of the Driskill ballroom, the gold leaf detailing, the velvet drapes. A setting designed to impress.
“I hope it’s okay for me to say this,” John said gently.
“I started to the other day in the car.” He took a deep breath.
“I always thought your engagement party was a strange fit. I mean, it was beautiful, and everything looked amazing—you looked amazing—but it didn’t feel like something you would have picked. ”
Zoe looked over at him, surprised.
He continued. “I thought your party would be more like the one you planned out at Salt Lick. A live band, the photo booth with all the goofy props so everyone could take something home.”
“Erik planned it without me,” she said quietly.
A puzzled look crossed John’s face. “Why didn’t you say anything to him?”
Zoe shrugged. “It was his engagement, too. I wanted him to be happy. And I wasn’t unhappy with the Driskill. Like you said, it was beautiful.”
John nodded, but something flickered in his eyes.
“Brynn and Callum made every decision together,” she said. “From the dress code to the DJ to inviting kids. It’s their party, through and through.”
“I was surprised about the kids,” John said. “But I kind of love it.”
“Would you want kids at your engagement party?” she asked, half teasing, half curious.
He looked over at her, his gaze steady. “Depends on the bride. But yeah, I’m pretty flexible.”
“Anything you’d veto outright?”
He pretended to consider. “I’d have to think long and hard about karaoke.”
Zoe burst out laughing. “Same. That’s a hard pass for me.”
He reached across the console and took her hand. “You and I… We keep lining up, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” she said, threading her fingers through his. “We do.”
They drove the rest of the way like that—hands joined, conversation trailing off into something easy and quiet.
“That’s the parking lot,” Zoe said, pointing as a line of cars turned off the main road.
“Where’s the barn?” John asked, scanning the property.
“Up the hill,” she said just as a flower-draped golf cart pulled up to greet a group of guests. “We’ll ride up.”
As they settled onto the cart, Zoe stole a glance at John. His eyes widened as they passed the main house—three stories, a turret, a wraparound porch glowing in the early evening light.
“They throw a Christmas party here every year,” Zoe said. “It’s magical.”
“I believe it,” he murmured, eyes on the house until the cart rounded the bend, and the barn came into view.
Its tall wooden frame was dressed in harvest colors—bundles of cornstalks flanking the entrance, pumpkins and gourds nestled in hay bales, strings of soft amber lights already glowing overhead.
“Looks like Callum and Brynn went all in on a fall theme,” John said, clearly impressed.
“Actually, there’s a cider tasting here tomorrow,” Zoe said with a smile. “They decided to keep the decorations.”
She braced for judgment, but instead, John’s eyes lit up. “I like it. It’s fun. Festive.”
He helped her out of the golf cart and laced their fingers together. “Ready to party?”
The nerves that had once crept in at events like this—the comparisons, the memories—were gone. Swept away by something steadier.
She squeezed his hand. “Wait until you see the inside.”