Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
DARBY
Darby waved from the float. She couldn’t believe how much things had changed since agreeing to help kick off Passport to the Holidays.
Just a few days ago she had been scared to take to the stage and open the event, and now she seemed to be right in the thick of it.
She spotted families and students in the crowd and made sure to give them a personalized wave.
Watching children’s faces light up with delight brought an even bigger smile to her face—a genuine smile.
Delicate snowflakes descended from the sky.
The glow of streetlamps and the festive decorations on each corner made Darcy feel like she was on a movie set.
She had managed to avoid Samesh since being named teacher of the year.
He had texted, called, emailed, and sent a box of chocolate-covered strawberries to her classroom.
There had been no avoiding the news. Darby’s face had been on the front page of every Bend newspaper and local television station. The attention was overwhelming, but the response from the community had been heartwarming.
Notes from former students and parents poured into the school.
She received messages from one of her very first students who had gone on to become the Poet Laureate of the state of Vermont, where he now lived with his family.
Winning teacher of the year reminded her of the many connections she had made over the years.
She rarely knew where students ended up.
It was a gift to reconnect and see where their lives had taken them.
It also made her feel like the Universe was nudging her closer to retirement. How could she top this year? Not that she needed to, but if she did decide to end her teaching career, this would be the time to do it.
Jim would be running along next to the float if he were still alive, she thought, giving her best wave to a group of little kids gathering candy, and William Graff?
Was that William Graff in the mix?
She squinted to get a better look. Sure enough, William was mixed up with kids scooping handfuls of candy from the street.
“Hey, Darby, don’t ask.” William gave her a sheepish grin as her float guided onward.
Darby savored the moment, taking in the sounds of marching bands, cheering crowds, and dazzling holiday lights. She felt a new lightness for the first time since Jim’s death. He had loved this. She could, too.
By the time her float returned to the staging area at the end of the parade route, Darby was glad she had agreed to come, but that feeling didn’t last long when she spotted Samesh, sending a wave of anxious shivers down her spine.
Her float was one of the last to arrive in the float barn. He was directing foot traffic, sending dancers in one direction and juggling clowns in the other.
Darby exited her float, hoping she could sneak by unnoticed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him. She did. But she wasn’t sure where to start.
She tried blending in with the clowns in bright orange-and-yellow costumes with lit-up glowing hats and noses, but Samesh caught her eye.
“Darby… Darby.” He ignored the pooper-scooper and ran over to her. “I’m so glad to see you here. As you know, I’ve been trying to apologize for two days.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through a string of unanswered apology texts. “I’m so sorry. Can we please talk?”
She caught a strong whiff of popcorn. “Um, I...” She struggled to find the right words.
“Look, I made a mistake of everything.” He shook his head and stuffed his phone back into his parka. “I know I should have told you the truth from the beginning, but I was worried you would think I was a stalker.”
“I might have,” she answered truthfully.
Samesh hung his head. “I know. It’s not what it seems, though. If you would give me a chance to explain, I think you’ll understand.”
Darby started to speak, but he held up a finger.
“Wait, let me get this out. I know this is my last chance with you, and I’ve got to take my shot.”
Darby folded her arms across her chest, not because of the cold but for protection. Could she do this? Could she admit how she was feeling? “Go ahead.” She nodded.
“Like I told you at dinner, my parents disapproved of me marrying a white woman. My mom tried to set me up countless times. I would be a very rich man if I had a dollar for every uncomfortable, awkward dinner I sat through.” He let out a sad laugh.
“I digress, though. At some point, my mom, especially, realized how unhappy I was. She eventually apologized. When she was dying, we had a heart-to-heart, and she made me promise, swear that I would come to find you. She knew that you were the love of my life, and she had kept us apart.” He paused and cleared his throat.
“My father and I never had a chance at a moment of understanding and reconciliation like that, but that conversation with my mother changed everything. I didn’t realize how even as a grown adult, I was still seeking her—their—approval at some level.
It took that moment for me to fully release myself from that. I’m not proud that it took me so long.”
They moved to the side to let horseback riders pass around them.
“On the day she died, I swore to my mother that I would come and find you. I promised her I would give love a shot. I knew then about Jim. It’s not like I was following your every move for decades.
Every once in a while, I would hear updates from mutual friends.
That’s how I heard about Jim. I wanted to send you a note.
I considered coming to the funeral, but it felt wrong.
I knew you were grieving, and I wanted to honor that.
I didn’t want you to think I was seizing the opportunity after your husband died.
I would never do that. That was before my mom died, by the way. ”
Darby held her breath as she waited for him to say more. He sounded sincere. His eyes were filled with emotion, a pleading, a wanting, a needing that she realized she felt just as deeply.
“This position came up six months after Mom died.” Samesh’s voice caught.
“A friend sent me the posting. I applied immediately. I came up to interview and almost reached out then, too, but the timing still felt wrong. I wish I could explain it. I can’t.
I just had the sense that you weren’t ready.
I guess I was hoping that if I got the job, which I did, things would happen naturally.
That we would bump into one another when the timing was right and see where things went from there.
I wasn’t stalking you. I was giving you space.
I’m sure it doesn’t seem like that from the outside.
I don’t know how it could. I would be upset and perhaps a little unsure if I were you, but honestly, the move here was ultimately for me.
I wanted to give myself time to reacclimate to Bend, get settled, and see if the job would be a long-term fit before I reached out.
And then fate intervened. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you at the park on the night of the kick-off party.
I took it as a sign that you were ready.
That I was ready. I should have been honest upfront.
It happened so fast. I had pictured and imagined how meeting up with you again would go, and then suddenly, you were standing there, and I guess I got caught up in the moment and the pure joy of seeing you again.
All the feelings that I’ve had for you are still here.
I thought maybe I was making it up to be more in my head than it really was.
I thought when I saw you again, maybe there wouldn’t be a spark, but there was.
Darby, you are more beautiful and wonderful than the first day I met you in a snowstorm, hanging on to an umbrella for dear life.
I’m sorry that I’ve ruined our second chance.
If you feel even the tiniest bit the same, I’m standing here in a snowy park on a festive holiday night, asking you to consider giving us a third chance. ”
Darby sucked in the cold air, blood rushing to her head. She felt like she might pass out. He stood in front of her with confidence, maintaining eye contact without pleading. “Samesh, it’s just a lot, a lot to take in.”
“I understand.” He motioned to his colleague to give him a minute. “I’m glad I got a chance to tell you how I feel and what transpired. Thank you for listening.”
There was so much more she wanted to say, but she needed time to think, so she simply nodded and stepped out of the way of Santa’s majestic reindeer-drawn sleigh.
“I should let you go and get back to work,” Samesh said.
“But how about this? I’ll be at the Snowball Dance on Saturday night.
If you’re willing to give our friendship a go, come find me at the dance, and if not, I promise I won’t be in touch again.
I’ll let you live your life and let you go for good. ”
He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. “Regardless of what you choose, Darby, you are absolutely wonderful. Never forget that.”
He pulled away and left to help his colleagues.
Darby watched him for a minute before leaving. She felt like she was in a movie. Never in her life had someone ever professed their love so romantically. It was like a fairy-tale ending—meeting at the Snowball Dance and rekindling a first love.
But was she ready?
Could she love again, or was she swept up in the narrative he was crafting?
Romantic gestures, flowers, chocolates, and dances were great entertainment.
Still, love had meant lazy nights curled up on the couch in Jim’s arms, figuring out how to compromise in arguments over whose turn it was to do the laundry or take out the trash.
Love was caring for your partner at their worst. It wasn’t always dazzling and showy like the flashing lights on the floats.
It was often subtle and subdued. It was making soup on a Sunday night when your spouse had a nasty cold, or carrying their backpack when their legs got heavy on the trail.
Samesh had held her on a pedestal ever since college.
He had never gone on to find someone else—that concerned Darby.
As much as she felt drawn to him, what if their visions of love didn’t line up?
She was certain that she would quickly fall off the pedestal he had placed her on when he learned that love took work. Hard work.