17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Luna
There really is no world in which I don’t marry Rafe Thomas.
It’s the logistics of it that need sorting out, and if there is anyone who can put my mind at ease and help me put everything into perspective, it’s Natasha.
With separate flights, it gives Rafe and me time to think about everything that’s happened and everything that needs to happen for our happily ever after to fall into place.
Fortunately, there were no barefooted, privacy-invading men on my flight, so I wasn’t distracted while I processed everything that happened in such a short span of time.
When I landed, I managed to lug my bag to my car, pay the parking fees, and head back to my boring, overpriced apartment where I knew Natasha would be waiting in the parking lot for all the details.
When I pulled into the lot, my suspicions were confirmed. Natasha hopped out of the car and practically clawed my door open to get all the juicy details. From her messages before I got on the flight, things at the museum had gone downhill fast.
Several hours later, I’ve finally managed to calm her down.
“I’m so sorry, Luna. You trusted me with everything, and I can’t believe that happened,” she says and eats another cookie.
“It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine and can be easily rectified.” All of this stress over improperly dated gala invitations. She was so unclear in her messages, I thought the entire exhibit had burned in a fire, been run over by a dump truck, or magically disappeared into thin air.
“I’m the one who sent them out. I should have caught that, and I didn’t. I’m a sucky coworker and a worse friend.” She pouts and again shoves a butter cookie in her mouth. I slowly slide the tray away from her, knowing well she’ll regret eating too many of them.
“Quite the contrary. I approved them and stuffed the envelopes. All you did was seal and address them for me. In fact, you saved my hide by catching it and ordering new ones right away. Everything can be amended. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah, well, our boss isn’t thrilled.” She eyes the tray of cookies but doesn’t take another.
Yeah. That. “There isn’t much I can do about that, but I will make sure he knows it’s a me problem, not you.”
Natasha seems to relax a little and leans back into my sofa. “I cannot believe you came back early from Ireland. What is wrong with you? Did something happen?” Her rapid-fire questions hit me all at once while I try to manhandle my own cookie from the tin tray.
“Nothing is wrong with me. I already told you, we decided it was time to see how it works back in the real world where all our problems actually exist.” I finally manage to yank the cookie free and crumble it to bits in one go.
“Right, but how did it end otherwise? Are you two back together?” Cautious eyes rake over me.
“As I also told you via text message earlier, yes, we are back together. The problem is, the logistics need sorting, and that’s where you come in. I need advice from someone who isn’t afraid to give it to me straight.”
“Perfect. We’ll have some tea while you spill the tea, because my throat is dry from all those cookies. Why’d you let me eat that many?”
“You’re a cookie fiend, and I did try. Besides, I’m not sure that’s what spilling the tea means, but sure, let’s do it anyway.
” I stand and head to my kitchen and that’s when reality truly hits me.
Inside is decorated in every way that matches my personality, my likes, my interests…
and yet…it doesn’t feel like home. It feels empty, devoid of love and happiness that oozed out of every crack and crevice of the cottage in Ireland.
My home hasn’t felt like home in a long, long time.
I stub my toe on the bag I carelessly left in the walkway and cover my yelp by slamming my keys onto the stovetop.
Natasha startles and narrows her eyes at me.
She stands and heads my way. “Okay, spill it now. One second, you were sweet and supportive, assuring me I didn’t ruin everything, and now you’re all kinds of dysregulated. It’s making me anxious.”
Without further prodding, I make a beeline directly for my tiny, boring, Rafe-less kitchen to make us tea and fish out whatever heathier snacks I can find in my pantry that haven’t gone stale while I’ve been gone.
“I guess I miss him already. The thing is, he said he’d pack up everything and move to Chatswain City if that’s what I want. We’d get married, live in the city, and he’d be happy. He can do his work anywhere, with a few flights here and there for specific meetings, which he has to do anyway.”
“But?” she asks, accepting a tin of chocolate chip cookies I’m pretty sure would survive a nuclear attack and stay fresh. She pops it open and snatches one before heading into the living room. My space has been her space for a long time, and she has no hesitations in my home.
“But I’m not sure if that’s what I want, you know? I got a little homesick for Coldstone Creek while I was in Ireland, and I can’t figure out if it was real homesickness or just nostalgia I’ll get over in a few days. What if my home is calling me back?”
Natasha shifts on the seat. “Wait, are you saying you’d quit working at the museum? Luna, that is your dream job. You’ve said that a dozen times a week since we first met.”
While the kettle is heating, I flop on my sofa beside her and grab a cookie. “Right, but now I’m not so sure it is. He bought me a house.”
She chokes on a bite of cookie and spews crumbs everywhere. “Pardon me? He bought you a house?”
“Yeah, a farmhouse just outside of Coldstone that I’ve always wanted. Even in high school, we used to pass it between my house and town, and I’d tell him if it ever went up for sale, we would buy it, fix it up, and live there forever.”
“Get out of town right now! He bought it for you? When?”
I cover my face and groan. “That’s the crummy part.
Nat, he bought it for me before we broke up, along with this.
” I fish the engagement ring from my pocket—still in the box, sight unseen.
He left it in my care to help me decide, and I know I’ve never wanted anything more than to put it on, no matter what it looks like, and start packing my things to move back home.
But why? Why do I want to go back when I know he’ll come here? We would both have what we want—two great jobs and each other. So why does that thought make me feel even more confused and dissatisfied?
“Luna, if you love him and would be happy moving back home, you know I’ll support you completely. It’s a big step though, and I want to make sure you think it through so neither of you gets hurt again.”
I nod and stand to get the screaming kettle.
“I know. I still have a few days of vacation left before I have to return to work. Since the major catastrophe you freaked out about is basically managed, I think I’m going to drive to Coldstone Creek tomorrow and…
I don’t know…feel it out, I guess. Maybe drive by the house and see if I still feel the same about it. ”
“I can’t believe my best friend is about to move away from me,” she whispers.
“I said maybe.”
Natasha shakes her head. “Listen woman, the man bought you a house, a ring, and paid for you to meet him in Ireland. I’m not stupid. I can do this math problem without the assistance of a calculator.”
I pour water over the tea and put my hands on my hips. “You literally just said I should think it through so neither of us gets hurt.”
She shrugs and eats another cookie. “I did, but we both know you never take my advice.”
“Hypothetically speaking, if I did decide to relocate and leave the museum, would you still be my bestie?”
Natasha gives me the evilest glare I’ve ever seen.
“Would you take over the exhibit for me?”
“Ha, I’m not sure our boss will agree, but of course. Your precious pottery will become my precious pottery. Unless I can convince them to bring in some Scandinavian vessels, then you’re screwed, but until then it’ll be my baby.”
I chuckle at her honesty. And it is honest, because if there were even a whiff of Viking watercraft in a hundred-mile radius, she’d ditch my pottery exhibit and me.
“I need to talk to Rafe, obviously, but I’m not sure what to do. I think it’ll take some time to decide, but yeah, a trip home might help me make that choice.”
“I still say you should introduce me to one of his available brothers.” She eats another cookie and sips the scalding-hot tea I hand her.
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe. We’ll see what happens.”
“Oh, I’m breaking her down. Who knows, I could become your sister for real.”
Actually, there are definitely worse things than having Natasha as a sister-in-law, but frankly, I’m not sure she knows what she’s asking for when she asks for a Thomas. They’re a lot of work, but they’re also worth every second of it.
My mind drifts toward Rafe and all we’ve been through, and I realize how lucky I am that he wouldn’t give up on us. I only hope that I’m strong enough to support him the same way if the time comes.