Three Months Later
THREE MONTHS LATER
NATALIE
“What if this totally fails?” I asked Joel in a last minute panic, looking around the food truck at rows of neatly organized ingredients and hanging
cheat sheets outlining step by step how to create the menu for patrons. We had deep cleaned the truck, ordered everything Gwen and Paul said we would need to get started, and were facing the opening day of Lottie’s.
I’d been nervous to tell Joel I wanted to name my crepe truck after his late wife, worried he would think it was some pathetic attempt to bond with him in an inappropriate, clingy way. He had looked at me and let out a chuckle. “See? She’s still conspiring with the universe to show me she is calling the shots so I never forget her. She’s pulled you into it now too.” That was all the support I needed to know it would be the perfect name. I could only hope it would someday be as much a beloved institution on the North Shore as Bob’s and Doug’s.
Joel put down a box of biodegradable take out containers. “There’s a line waiting for you to roll up the window. I don’t really see failure happening, Red.”
“There’s always my apartment in Portland. We could leave and go live there—oh you’d love it. There are great restaurants nearby —lots of food carts—and a running path along the river. Oh! A fantastic donut shop around the corner. I’m sure you’d get a job in no time, and I’d buy you a cool pair of rain boots to help you get used to the wet weather. What do you say? Car’s out back.”
He shook his head. “Last you checked, you wouldn’t be able to get back into your place until early next year, thanks to Airbnb. So that option is gone. Plus, as charming as you are, I don’t think Jill would take you back.”
With my back to Joel, I finished chopping up the last carton of strawberries, thinking about what he said. “She was disappointed I couldn’t replace her, but she gets it. She said Dane never made me happy the way you do. She could tell without meeting you that I’d found my person.”
He stopped organizing cutlery and wrapped his arms around my waist, leaving a trail of kisses from my ear down my neck to the base of my shoulder.
“You still have to win over Carlie, and she’s a hard sell.” I waved my knife knowingly. “Liam can be bought with a juice box and some crackers.”
Joel chuckled and went back to sorting. “I’m not worried. Once they come to visit, they’ll be charmed and see you weren’t totally crazy when you rashly fell for a stranger.”
A knock on the back door pulled me from slipping down memory lane, thinking about that first morning of kayaking with Joel.
“Sign here, please,” I heard a man say.
A moment later, Joel placed a box in front of me. “I didn’t think we were waiting on anything else?”
I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced it open. “Oh good! It’s the last few lanterns we needed! Would you be willing to hang these later today?”
The other food truck owners had been a dream to work with.
They’d been in that location for a couple of years and supported one another in every way. When I suggested adding some more seating and sprucing up the area a little—it was slightly uninviting to guests just passing through—they were more than happy to let me take the lead. The investment paid off and more traffic was already showing up thanks to strings of lights, refinished tables arranged strategically to accommodate larger groups but also appeal to couples wanting an intimate dinner, and last week the new large welcome sign for the entrance arrived.
“You got it, boss,” he said, putting the box in a corner out of sight. “I know it’s your first day, but do you think you could clear a little space on the schedule next week? I have something planned for your birthday. It’s not every day you turn thirty.”
“Am I going to meet that shark you punched?”
He gave me a flat look. “No.”
“Are we going to?—”
“I’m not going to spoil the surprise, so there is no use in guessing.”
Knowing that was true, I turned to clean up my mess and then wiggled my body like a four-year-old. “I’m so nervous! Why am I so nervous?”
“Didn’t you say you got up early and did yoga?”
The wiggling turned into a few squats. Then a makeshift Warrior 2 yoga pose. Joel leaned back against the counter, giving me space, looking cool and collected as ever. Sometimes it was irritating how little he worried about things. I also admired it greatly. And in the case of today, I was totally jealous.
“Yes, I went down to the beach at the end of Maggie’s street and did yoga, tried to meditate, finished my book. Nothing worked, clearly.” I stood tall, brought my hands together in front of me, and took a long, deep breath.
“How was the book?” He looked at me expectantly.
I pulled a folded paper from the back of my pocket and held it up. “Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Mm-hm.” I said. “I found something that I think you wrote?”
Earlier that morning, when I’d turned to the last page, a single sheet of paper fell to the sand. I turned it over and found Joel’s handwriting.
Red,
You’re at the store for the millionth time today, so I have just a minute to attempt covert actions and write you a note. I know you already know this but I want it stated for the record. I’ve been lost for the last few years, and I wasn’t sure what I needed until I met you. Thank you for getting in my kayak and climbing into my foxhole.
Welcome to your new life—you’re going to rock it.
I love you. Hard.
Joel
I had read and reread it half a dozen times sitting on the beach. My best decade was coming. A few tears fell, and wiping them away, I realized I had never felt at home in Portland the way I felt in Hawaii. The island had changed my life. Shaking off the sand to head back to Maggie’s, I tucked the note into my back pocket for safekeeping.
“I plan to write you a million more,” he admitted shyly.
“I’m going to hold you to it.” I stepped over to him, giving him a tight hug. “Hey, thank you for taking off today. You really didn’t have to.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I had to be here! This is a big moment for you.” He kissed my forehead. “Plus, you’re paying me, so there was no way I was going to say no.”
I pulled back and held him at arm’s length. “I never said I was paying you.”
“You can’t go claiming you’re rich and then not pay your employees. It’s bad for morale.”
I glared at him as he let out a loud, blissful laugh. My favorite sound in the world. Luckily, since moving to Hawaii, I was hearing it more often and would never be able to get enough of it. “I regret having ever told you that.”
“You love me,” he teased.
“You’re right, I really do,” I confirmed and took one last deep breath, walked over to the window, and rolled it up to start the day. “Here we go!”