Chapter 33
Quincy
I was more than ready for Thanksgiving to be over.
Unfortunately the annual Dragonfly Lake holiday tree-lighting ceremony was starting in a few minutes, and our family never missed it, so I was stuck.
“You hangin’ in?” my brother Ryan asked me privately, our winter coats rustling against each other as he sat next to me on the stone landscaping border. This had been our regular spot for this event since I was in single digits, first with my mom and now with Cynthia and our younger siblings.
To convince him, I wound my arm through his, smiled, and said, “Yeah. Mulled wine’s my new favorite.”
He held his paper cup of the same up for a clinkless toast, and we both took a drink of the spiced beverage.
Normally I loved this event. I still had memories of the four of us—my mom, my dad, Ryan, and me—making our own cocoa, pouring it into a large thermos, and taking it to the town square.
These days, there were local vendors who sold cocoa, coffee, hot toddies, hot buttered rum, mulled wine, and more to drink, plus candied apples, fudge, popcorn, and other sweets. The treats alone were enough to lure even a recluse out of the house.
I’d had no appetite for three days, so the treats weren’t a factor this year.
In fact, I’d considered begging off and heading to my apartment, knowing my roomies would be here on the square along with the rest of the town, and I’d have the place to myself.
My family would have none of that though.
Between Molly’s over-the-top excitement, Cynthia’s concerned gaze on me, and Ryan’s determination to keep my mood up, there would be too many questions if I didn’t participate.
The day hadn’t been a bad one. There were admittedly a lot of positives.
Instead of attempting to cook a feast as Cynthia and I normally did—and knocking skulls repeatedly as we shared the kitchen—she and I had agreed to order a precooked dinner from Country Market.
Best decision ever. The food was good, the convenience was priceless, and the admission that neither of us was up for being Rachael Ray—or Reba Yates—at the holidays was sanity saving.
After the meal, when the three youngest had left the table, I’d broken my news to Ryan, Cynthia, and my dad.
Well, some of my news—that I’d decided not to go to school, after all.
Though my dad tried to be supportive and positive, I could tell he was disappointed—again.
I was surer than ever it was the right move for me, so I’d sat up taller and explained my plans to become a nanny.
Ryan had volunteered to help me set up my official business in the coming weeks, and my dad had started to come around and support the idea.
Later, as Cynthia and I had washed dishes while everyone else watched a football game, I’d stepped out of my comfort zone in the spirit of our new agreement and confided about the personal aspects of leaving my job for Knox.
I’d been stunned when she was sympathetic and even disappointed on my behalf.
Baby steps, right?
I had to admit it felt good. So much better than bickering or veiled barbs.
In spite of my supportive family, as the square filled up around the live tree whose branches were laden with large, colorful balls and bows, the physical ache in my chest tightened.
Three days had passed since I’d seen Knox or Juniper. I was staggering from the two separate losses, plus a third one—the future I’d I wanted more than anything. One day, I hoped like hell I’d get it through my head that choosing a future that relied on another person never worked out for me.
As I blindly looked out at the crowd, my thoughts veered to Knox and Junie.
Without making a conscious decision, I realized I was scanning the crowd, looking for them.
I doubted they were here though. Juniper’s bedtime was soon, and it was cold.
She was too young to remember this. Knox would likely stay in tonight, and her tree lighting debut would be next year, when she was one.
I slammed my eyes shut on the pain that thought brought. She’d be one, likely walking, maybe starting to talk, and I’d have missed out on twelve months of her life. More than half of it.
“I’m…I think I’m gonna go home—”
Ryan squeezed me to his side and kept his big-brother arm there before I could finish the sentence. “Stay with me. Please? It’s starting soon. Look.”
Mayor Constantine and some of the event organizers were buzzing around in the gazebo where the mic was set up. High-school band members were taking their places between the gazebo and the forty-foot-tall, decked-out pine tree.
Ryan was still watching me, giving me a weird look as if the stakes were high instead of just the average small-town tree-lighting ceremony. I checked his cup to see if maybe he had more than a mulled wine in there, but it looked just like mine and was still half-full.
Brayden came bouncing over to us, his eyes sparkling with holiday joy I envied. I forced a smile and extended my arm for a hug.
“Can I try a sip of your wine?” he asked.
I tilted my head. “Where’s your cocoa?”
“Gone.”
Ryan leaned forward to size him up. “Hey, I already gave you two sips of my wine.”
“It’s good,” Brayden insisted, all grins, as if he knew he was busted.
“Our baby brother, the lush,” I said, giving him an affectionate shove in the chest. “Not on my watch.”
“Y’all are mean,” he said with an exaggerated drawl. His attention diverted to someone on the other side of us. “Mom, can I go hang out with Joey and Matt? They’re right over there.”
As Cynthia and our dad negotiated Brayden’s limits and privileges for the evening, I peered up at the windows of my apartment.
They were dark, promising peace. Though the din of the crowd would be audible, it would be muffled.
Background noise. Which, come to think of it, would leave me way too alone with my thoughts.
I sighed, resigned, and took another sip of wine. “Y’all are mean,” I muttered without conviction to Ryan as I leaned my head on his upper arm, turning my attention back to the gazebo…and promptly popped it back up straight so I could see.
Was that Knox? In the gazebo? Talking to the mayor?
“What…” I said it to myself, but Ryan was tuned in. I could feel his gaze locked on me. I kept my own eyes glued to the gazebo, waiting for a better look at the man talking to the mayor. He was tall, wearing a black winter hat that showed a hint of dark hair. Then Mayor Constantine shifted and…
That was Knox.
My heart thundered at the first glimpse of him in three and a half days. “What’s he doing?”
Mayor Constantine picked up the microphone and tapped on it, the sound echoing through the crowded square as gradually people noticed him and shushed those around them.
“Good evening,” he said. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
The crowd returned the greeting. It became quieter but nowhere close to silent as he spoke. “Before we get started, I’m going to hand over the mic to one of our own. He says he’d like to clear some things up.”
As I tried to puzzle out what was going on, Ryan stood up next to me. Knox took the microphone.
“Hello, everyone.” Knox was so intimately familiar that my heart ached.
The crowd broke out into a collective chatter as people wondered out loud what was going on.
When he said, “My name is Knox Breckenridge,” everyone went silent, their attention locked on him.
“I’m relatively new here, but you might’ve seen my name mentioned a few hundred times if you follow the Tattler.” He paused as laughter filtered through the crowd.
“I’ll only take a couple of minutes of your time, I promise. Since I’ve become a regular subject on the town app, I’m hoping to clarify some things,” Knox continued. “I came to Dragonfly Lake a few months ago for a vacation, fell in love with this small town, bought a house, and never left.”
I didn’t blink, waiting to see where he was going.
“That’s the short version,” he continued, then let out an endearing nervous laugh. “I left out a few minor details…”
There was more laughter from the masses, the warm, inclusive, laughing-with-him type.
“For example, you might have heard I crashed into the beloved, reputable Henry family. Yep, I’m that guy. I appeared out of nowhere, looking to connect with the father I never knew and the half-brothers and -sisters I’d only just found out about. Way to make an entrance to my new hometown, huh?”
More laughter rang out, and I found myself enthralled by everything he said, smiling even though my heart was still cracked wide open.
“Lucky for me, the Henrys are some incredible, open-minded people, and they welcomed me with open arms. Well”—he looked to the side of the gazebo, brows raised, smile crawling across his face, and I spotted Cash, Seth, Holden, and Ava, who was holding a bundled-up Juniper in her arms—“it took a blood test and some heated discussions, but then they welcomed me with open arms.”
The three Henry brothers grinned and nodded as if to say, “Damn straight.”
“In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best way to introduce myself to you all,” Knox said, indicating the crowd as a whole.
He shrugged. “That was small potatoes though, because then, before a single full day could pass, I found myself in the plot of a different movie. Ever heard of an old one called Three Men and a Baby? That was suddenly my life, except there was only one man and a baby, and that man was me.” He turned and looked over at Juniper, the smile on his face so full of adoration and love that I could see it from my spot fifty feet away.
“The day my ex left the baby girl I didn’t know about in my SUV turned out to be the luckiest day of my life. And yes, for those keeping track, we’re now on the second paternity test of this short story.”
He lowered the microphone and shook his head, laughing to himself as everyone laughed with him again—myself included, though my laughter came through tear-filled eyes.