Chapter 14
Fourteen
The Storybook Corner was finally finished.
Livvie stood back, paintbrush in hand, and surveyed the last panel of the mural.
A silver fox—sleek and clever-eyed—peered out from behind a grove of maple trees, its tail curled in a question mark.
Emma’s sketch had been rough, almost hurried, like she’d been racing against time even then.
But Livvie had filled in the details, brought the creature to life with careful strokes of burnt sienna and cream.
The whole wall was alive now. An enchanted forest straight out of the Thornwood Chronicles—towering trees with gnarled roots, a stone archway covered in vines, a winding path that disappeared into mist. The beautiful, glittering dragon, the egg with the baby dragon breaking through, and tucked into the corners, hidden like secrets: a dragon’s eye watching from the shadows, a crown half buried in leaves, runes carved into tree bark that spelled out Emma’s initials.
E.R.
This is for you, Emma.
Livvie’s chest tightened. She needed to sneak the notebook back into Nate’s house—he’d mentioned missing it. But with him having been holed up in his office for two days, well, probably he wouldn’t even notice her.
In fact, he’d said almost nothing to her since the kiss. And she refused to read into it—after all, she’d been the one to push him away. But he’d dived into the story and barely surfaced.
Good thing she’d fed him coffee, soup, and sandwiches. But when she’d sneaked out to work on the library, he hadn’t even noticed.
So, maybe he’d forgotten he’d kissed her.
Whereas she couldn’t get it out of her brain. The smell of him, the touch of his embrace, the way his mouth had felt on hers.
As if they belonged together.
Oh boy. Wishful thinking because, hello, she was leaving in three days.
Focus!
She dipped her brush in the water jar. Studied the fox’s tail. Added one more highlight—just a whisper of white along the curve—and stepped back again.
“Oh, Livvie.”
Hazel stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to her heart. The librarian had been checking in every few hours, watching the mural take shape, but this was the first time she’d seen it complete. Her eyes brightened with tears.
“It’s exactly what Emma wanted,” Hazel whispered. “Exactly.”
“I just followed her sketches.” Livvie set the brush down, wiped her hands on the paint-stained apron. “She did all the hard work.”
“You brought it to life.” Hazel crossed the room, tilted her head to study the dragon’s eye. “She would have loved this.”
Livvie’s throat closed. “Yeah. She would.”
“It’s perfect.”
The voice came from behind them—warm, familiar, threaded with emotion.
Livvie spun around.
Aunt Lila stood in the doorway. Her silver hair was in a messy bun, she wore an oversized cardigan, her glasses on a beaded chain, a sort of delight shining in her eyes.
“Aunt Lila. What are you doing here?”
“You’ve been here almost two weeks and you think I’d miss the finale?
” Lila crossed the room and pulled Livvie into a hug that smelled like lavender and old books.
“Besides, Hazel called me. Said you’d been painting for two days straight, in between your runs to Nate’s house to feed him, and she was worried you’d forgotten to eat. ”
“I ate.” Livvie pulled back, swiped at her eyes. “There was a bagel. Yesterday, I think.”
“A bagel.” Lila cupped Livvie’s face, studied her with those sharp, loving eyes that saw everything. “You look exhausted. And happy. And confused. So basically, exactly how you should look.”
“I’m fine.”
“Terrible liar. Always have been.” Lila released her, turned to survey the mural. “This is extraordinary, Livvie. Truly.”
“Emma designed it.”
“Emma sketched it. You made it.” Lila traced a finger along the silver fox’s tail. “There’s a difference between having a vision and bringing it into the world. Both matter.”
Hazel cleared her throat softly. “I’ll leave you two alone. Livvie, the dedication ceremony is Sunday. We’ll have the bench unveiling and the Storybook Corner grand opening together.” She paused in the doorway, glanced back. “He’s going to come, isn’t he? Nate?”
Livvie’s stomach dropped. “I don’t know.”
“Ask him.” Hazel’s smile was gentle but firm. “He’ll come if you ask.”
Then she was gone, and it was just Livvie and Lila in the children’s section, surrounded by enchanted forests and unspoken questions.
“I need to get Nate’s lunch,” Livvie said.
“Of course you do.” Aunt Lila winked. “I’ll help you clean up.”
They walked through town as the afternoon sun slanted gold across Main Street.
Preparations for the Flannel Festival were in full swing—vendor tents clustered in the square, the smell of cider and cinnamon rolls drifting from the bakery, children running between booths with maple sugar candies and balloon animals.
Bunting fluttered from lampposts. A folk band played something cheerful near the fountain.
Maple Lake had worked its way under Livvie’s skin. Two weeks ago, she’d arrived here desperate and alone, convinced this town was just a stopover on the way back to her real life in New York.
Now it felt more real than anything she’d left behind.
“So,” Lila said as they passed the Brew. “Is he going to finish?”
“Maybe.” Livvie waved at Mandie through the window. “He’s been ferocious in there. I think he might actually do it.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“It is.” Livvie shoved her hands in her cardigan pockets. “It’s amazing. He’s amazing. The pages he’s shown me are—they’re his, Aunt Lila. Not Emma’s story. His. And it’s beautiful.”
“So why do you sound sad?”
Right. They walked past Maple Reads, where Maren was setting up a display of autumn-themed books in the window. Past Pies ’n’ Cream, where a family sat at an outdoor table sharing a slice of apple pie. Past the General Store with its hand-painted sign and cheerful window boxes.
“Because when he finishes,” Livvie said finally, “I go back to New York.”
“Do you?”
“I have a job. A life.” Even as she said it, the words felt hollow. “I mean, if I still have a job. Richard has been calling. Leaving voicemails. I haven’t listened to them.”
“Mmm.”
“And even if I don’t—even if he fires me—I’ll find something else.
Another agency. Maybe at a small press, doing some editing.
I’m good at what I do, even if no one notices.
” She was talking faster now, the way she always did when she was trying to convince herself of something.
“I love publishing. I love finding stories and helping authors and—”
“Livvie.”
She stopped. Looked at her aunt.
Lila’s expression was soft. Knowing. The expression that always made Livvie feel like she was twelve years old again, sitting in that tiny NYC apartment, trying to explain why her parents’ approval mattered so much.
“What do you want?” Lila asked.
“I just said—”
“No, sweetheart. What do you want? Not what makes sense. Not what your parents would approve of. Not what your career plan says you should do next.” Lila took her hands. “If you could have anything—any life, any work, any place—what would you choose?”
Livvie opened her mouth. Closed it.
The truth sat in her chest like a stone, too heavy to hold and too honest to speak.
“I want to stay,” she whispered. There. She’d said it.
She drew in a breath. “I want to stay here. In Maple Lake. I want to paint more murals. I want to help Hazel with the children’s programming.
I want to run story hour like Emma used to.
I want—” Her voice cracked. “I want to have coffee at the Brew every morning and know everyone’s name.
I want to walk to the library instead of taking the subway.
I want to stop trying to be important and just… be.”
Lila squeezed her hands. “That sounds lovely.”
“It sounds crazy.”
“Maybe.” Lila smiled. “Or maybe it sounds like you’re finally listening to the right voice.”
They started walking again, slower now, past the town square where children were playing tag around the fountain. The water sparkled in the afternoon light, sending rainbows across the cobblestones.
“I kissed him,” Livvie blurted.
Lila didn’t even blink. “Of course you did.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Well. He kissed me first. Technically. But I kissed him back. Enthusiastically.” Heat flooded her cheeks. “It was after we finished the outline. We were celebrating and he hugged me and then suddenly we were—and it was—”
“Good?”
“Amazing.” Livvie pressed her hands to her face. “It was the best kiss of my entire life, but I have no idea what it meant or if he regrets it or if it was just adrenaline because the book was coming together or—”
“Livvie. Breathe.”
She breathed.
“Have you talked to him about it?” Lila asked, her hands in her cardigan pockets.
“Are you kidding? I told him he needed to get to work, and I ran away to make coffee. I’ve barely seen him since. He’s been writing nonstop, and I’ve been here painting and avoiding eye contact like a mature adult woman with excellent communication skills.”
“Ah.”
They reached the edge of the square and sat on a bench overlooking the lake. The water was calm today, reflecting the trees and sky like glass.
“What if the kiss didn’t mean anything to him?” Livvie asked quietly. “What if I’m just…convenient? The person who happened to be there when he finally broke through the block?”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think.” She twisted the silver fox ring around her finger.
“I don’t know anything anymore. Two weeks ago, I was sure about everything—my job, my career, my path.
Now I’m sitting in a town I’d thought I’d left behind, painting murals and wanting to stay and falling for a man who might not even see me once the book is done. ”
Lila was quiet for a long moment. Then, “Do you remember the first summer you stayed with me, when you were sixteen?”
“Of course.”