Epilogue Ava #3
Ava looked at Griffin, then Maren, then the way Griffin had somehow taken the heavy supply tub from her without making a show of it.
Maren noticed at the same time.
“Hayes,” she said. “Why are you holding that?”
“It was heavy.”
“I did not ask you to carry it.”
“I know.”
“Then put it down.”
Griffin looked at the ground, then at the tub, then at her. “Here?”
“Obviously not here. There is foot traffic.”
“Where would you like it?”
Maren stared at him.
Ava felt Nate’s hand tighten around hers with restrained laughter.
Maren pointed toward the donor tent. “There.”
Griffin nodded and carried it there.
Maren watched him go.
Ava watched Maren watch him go.
Interesting.
Maren turned back and caught Ava’s look.
“No,” Maren said.
Ava lifted both hands. “I did not say anything.”
“Your face had commentary.”
“My face is independent.”
Nate coughed.
Maren pointed at him. “You are the reason this entire event has romantic infrastructure. Do not contribute.”
Nate blinked. “Fair.”
Tyler grinned. “Maren, how do you feel about bad ideas?”
Maren did not look away from Griffin, who was now placing the tub exactly where she had indicated and then rearranging the surrounding chairs so nobody tripped.
“I avoid them,” she said.
Griffin returned just in time to hear her.
Their eyes met.
The air changed.
Ava felt it.
Nate felt it.
Tyler looked like he might levitate.
Griffin said, calm and careful, “Smart.”
Maren’s chin lifted. “Usually.”
Tyler whispered, “Book two.”
Ava elbowed him.
“Ow. Worth it.”
Denise blew the whistle again. “Places.”
The Showdown relay began in perfect Lake Briar fashion, which meant three things went wrong in the first ninety seconds and somehow all of them raised money.
Tyler tripped over a cone and turned it into a donation challenge.
Beckett lost a paddleboard balance station to a ten-year-old girl and declared her his rival.
Soren’s goalie challenge became so popular that Denise had to create a waiting list.
Nate and Ava ran the final leg together.
Not tied at the ankle this time.
Not holding a cooler.
Not proving anything to Trevor, Hale, a crowd, or themselves.
Just running.
Ava’s sneakers hit the grass. Nate paced himself beside her, not ahead, not behind.
With her.
The finish banner came closer.
The crowd cheered.
Grandma Ruthie’s voice rose above everyone else’s.
“Do not let him win just because he is handsome, Ava.”
Ava laughed so hard she almost lost a step.
Nate caught her hand.
“With me,” he said.
She squeezed back.
“I know.”
They crossed the finish line together.
Team One won.
Again.
Tyler hit the grass like he had personally earned the victory through moral support and noise.
Ellie screamed.
Karen cried openly and called it community emotion.
Coach Doyle shook Nate’s hand, then shook Ava’s, and said, “Good leadership from both of you.”
Ava said, “Please do not assign me captaincy.”
Coach Doyle’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dare.”
Ruthie appeared with two cups of lemonade. “He would if he were wise.”
Ava took one cup. “Grandma.”
Ruthie looked at Nate. “You still buying rolls?”
Nate stood straighter. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Some traditions are worth continuing.”
Then she handed him the second lemonade and walked away like she had blessed a treaty.
Ava stared after her. “Did my grandmother just approve you permanently?”
Nate looked mildly terrified. “I think so.”
“How do you feel?”
“Honored. Afraid. Hungry for rolls.”
“Correct.”
The sun dipped lower, setting the lake on fire in gold and pink.
The last cheers faded into laughter. The team scattered.
Tyler began arguing with Maren about whether emotional infrastructure was a valid phrase.
Maren told him it sounded like something printed on a mug no one wanted. Griffin laughed.
Actually laughed.
Maren turned toward him so fast her ponytail swung.
“Was that at me?” she asked.
Griffin’s smile faded too slowly. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.”
Maren stared at him.
Griffin stared back.
Tyler slowly backed away, whispering, “Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.”
Ava leaned into Nate’s side. “That looks like trouble.”
Nate slipped an arm around her waist. “Definitely.”
“Should we warn them?”
“Did anyone successfully warn us?”
“Point.”
They watched Griffin pick up Maren’s clipboard after she dropped it.
Their hands brushed.
Both of them froze.
Tyler made a sound like a tea kettle finding religion.
Maren snatched the clipboard back. “That meant nothing.”
Griffin’s eyes held hers. “I know.”
Ava smiled.
Nate looked down at her. “You are enjoying that.”
“I am observing.”
“Pattern recognition?”
“Exactly.”
“What pattern?”
Ava turned in his arms, the lake behind him, the summer ahead of them changing shape but not ending. Not really.
“The bad idea kind,” she said.
Nate grinned.
Behind them, Tyler shouted, “I HEARD TITLE ENERGY.”
Griffin yelled, “Run.”
Tyler ran.
Ava laughed until Nate kissed her quiet.
No audience rule failed again.
She decided some failures deserved five stars.
And when summer finally gave way to whatever came next, Ava Lane did not feel like she was waiting for the ending anymore.
She felt like she had chosen the start.