Chapter 28
THURSDAY
THE KOI WOULDN’T stop swimming circles in his head, which was stupid.
Later that evening, back in his parents’ home, Taylor stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing the pan he’d used to make a grilled cheese sandwich. He didn’t think twice about why he craved one. In the background, the washer and dryer were running and the place smelled like laundry detergent.
His parents were sitting out back, enjoying the cooler evening air while drinking lemonade.
Occasionally, his mom’s laugh carried through the open window.
He gazed fondly at them with a little excitement that they were going to visit him in Asia.
His mind spun with the possibilities of traveling with Chelsey and his parents.
Would they be able to travel together some day?
He had an apartment on almost every continent since his work required him to travel so often.
His favorite spot was a little hut tucked away in Bali.
He could easily picture Chelsey there. He could also picture himself settled in Juniper Valley.
He’d need to sell several of his places overseas, keeping only a couple that he loved.
He mulled this over while he continued to scrub the pan.
This was his childhood home and should be familiar and comforting.
But as the water slipped through his fingers, he found himself thinking of a different sink—sleek, compact, tucked into a sun-drenched Tokyo apartment. The silence here felt different. Too wide. Too empty. But somehow, relaxing and serene.
He reached for a towel to dry off the pan but stopped halfway, letting the water drip, his mind slipping back to the botanical gardens, specifically the Japanese-inspired one.
The beautiful lantern sculpture near the water’s edge was a mirror image of one he walked by nearly every day in Kyoto.
For just a moment, the scents and sounds transported him.
There were morning bike rides through narrow alleys, noodle shops humming after dark, the weightless feeling of being a thousand miles away from home.
But he didn’t tell Chelsey when she asked if he was okay.
That garden made him miss Asia so fiercely it almost hurt.
That Japanese garden had knocked something loose inside him.
It wasn’t just the lanterns or the koi, or the curved lines of the bridge.
Something deeper hit him. The pace, the purpose, the clarity he experienced overseas were different.
In Asia, everything in his life moved in a forward motion.
Everything here in Juniper Valley... felt like someone pushed pause.
Not in a bad way. Just…different.
And then there was Chelsey.
Every laugh, every tilt of her head, every shared memory had been pulling him back into something familiar and warm and achingly good. But also, something rooted. Planted. Permanent.
He understood right then that he could feel all those being with someone he loved anywhere in the world. He didn’t have to be in Juniper to feel like he was still part of the family.
He thought about the look on Chelsey’s face when they passed the daisies—how her eyes softened, like that garden wasn’t just a place, but a memory wrapped in petals. And to her, it would be.
The longer they took on their nostalgia tour, the more he wondered if it’d been a bad idea.
His feelings were running deeper than he’d ever imagined.
They were getting closer every day and it felt so good and right.
What if she rejected him? It didn’t matter.
He needed to see this relationship through to whatever end Chelsey decided. He wouldn’t run away from this place.
He wouldn’t do that to her. Not again.
But did that mean staying? Trading airports for mowing the lawn, and corporate board rooms for the dunk tank at PTA fundraisers? Yes, it meant all those things if it was important to Chelsey. He rubbed his chest; he’d do anything for Chelsey.
“Hey, is anyone hungry?” Dad came into the kitchen holding a takeout bag from Smokin’ BBQ.
“This is such a good idea.” Taylor grinned as he helped unload the bags and set the goods on the counter. There were burgers, fries, onion rings and soda. “Um, I think there’s enough here to feed ten people.”
“Oh shoot. I forgot yours.” Dad pushed a smaller brown bag to him. “Sushi straight from the Happy Sumo.”
Taylor blinked. “Why?”
“You’ve had a homesick look on your face for the last couple of days.”
“Was it that obvious? Sometimes I’m not sure how to be the guy who thrives in motion or the one who’s supposed to be rooted in one spot.”
Dad took a bite of bacon burger. “So? Both versions are real, Son.”
“But I don’t know how to be both,” Taylor admitted.
“What if you’re overthinking it? You ever think maybe the trick isn’t choosing between the two? Maybe you’re supposed to figure out how to let them hold hands.”
Taylor turned that over in his head, the garden still blooming in his mind, Chelsey’s laughter playing in the background of every thought.
Thinking back to Chelsey’s question earlier…Maybe the koi didn’t swim in circles. Maybe they just hadn’t reached the next level yet.
Later that night, Taylor sat in one of the rocking chairs out back, the air thick with late summer stillness and the scent of cut alfalfa. His elbows rested on his knees, soda can sweating in his hands. It was late, and quiet, and the kind of night that made everything feel a little more sober.
His mom stepped out, a light cardigan draped over her shoulders, her silver-lined hair pulled back into a low bun. She handed him a folded blanket and sank into the rocker beside him without saying anything.
For a while, they just sat in the quiet of the evening as the cicadas and crickets sang to the low-setting sun.
All hinted of peace with a bit of contentment.
At least outside. Not in Taylor’s mind. Turmoil and stress churned and underlying all of that, he wondered constantly what was on Chelsey’s mind.
Did she think of him every hour like he did of her?
Did she want more out of their relationship or was she just biding the time until he left again?
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Mom finally asked.
He hesitated before he answered, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. “It’s like I’m standing in two worlds, and neither one is saying clearly, ‘pick me.’”
His mom rested her hands on her knees. “When you were little, do you remember that summer you couldn’t decide if you wanted to be a paleontologist, build houses or be a baseball player?”
“I wore a dinosaur shirt to T-ball and called every base a ‘foundation.’”
She chuckled. “You had a better arm than Mason in those days.”
“We were ten, Mom.”
She shrugged. “Something to hold over his head, I would think. Regardless, you were passionate about all three. But you didn’t have to choose right away.
You let one grow louder than the other. Naturally.
You’re an amazing and gifted architect now, known all over the world as one of the best. And you’re paid accordingly. ”
He looked at her. “This doesn’t feel like that. This feels like if I make the wrong choice, I lose something forever. I can’t wait for this choice to be louder.”
His mom sighed as she held his gaze steady. “Maybe it is louder, and it makes you nervous. Or maybe you’re looking at it wrong. Maybe this isn’t about what you lose, but who you choose.”
Taylor swallowed hard. “What if I’m not what Chelsey needs?”
“And what if you are?” she countered. “What if all this nostalgia she’s letting you pull her through is her way of showing you that you matter to her?”
He quieted for a moment, eyes on the porch steps where the light didn’t quite reach. “I remembered her favorite flower today. And her mom’s. Without even thinking.”
His mom smiled. “That’s the heart remembering on its own, sweetie.”
Taylor exhaled, long and low.
“She’s not asking me to stay,” he said. “She’s not saying anything. Just…going along for the ride.”
“Maybe because she doesn’t want to ask you to stay if your hearts already packed a bag. She doesn’t want to be hurt again.”
His throat tightened. “I still don’t know.”
“Then tomorrow you don’t worry about the decision.” His mom put her warm hand on his arm. “Tomorrow, you just take her somewhere quiet, say what’s in your heart, and listen to what comes back. Sometimes clarity doesn’t shout. Sometimes it whispers.”
Taylor nodded as he tried to understand everything they’d just talked about. It was like he was back in high school having late night discussions with her again. “Thanks, Mom.”
She smiled and rocked back, her gaze on the stars. “Anytime.”