43. The Grand Canyon State
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
the grand canyon state
Isit on the ledge in front of the treehouse doorway with my legs dangling beside the ladder when Forrest pulls into my driveway.
The big moving truck parked against the curb reminds me of a much warmer day almost eighteen years ago when I thought my world was imploding.
When I watched Forrest walk up the grass back then, I felt very differently about his arrival.
This time, I wave happily, calling him up to our treehouse.
I scoot to the side as he climbs, and he perches himself against the door frame so I can lean on him.
“Are you ready?” he asks after kissing me hello.
I nod, feeling bittersweet happiness as I do.
“I am,” I confirm. My suitcases are in the house by the front door, packed neatly this time.
Today, Forrest is going to fly with me and Jigsaw out to Arizona to get us settled in an apartment while a company drives the truck with the remaining contents of my house out there.
Most of it will stay in a storage unit until Forrest and I find a new house together, but that won’t be until later this year.
Because Forrest is so close to getting his license, we determined it’s best for him to finish that in Massachusetts and then get licensed in Arizona by reciprocity, so he won’t be joining me until summer.
The distance won’t be fun in the meantime, but at least we know it’ll be temporary.
I plan on throwing myself into learning as much as I can from the DCU professors this semester to help time go more quickly.
I also have a whole-ass book to edit, because Lori came through for me and somehow convinced Grace to give her first romance book a shot.
It’s new territory for us both, but after she read the chapters I’d sent to Lori, Grace was begging me for the rest of the book.
It may have been the biggest Christmas miracle yet, but I sent her a completed draft on December 29th.
And then I drank the largest glass of wine I’ve ever seen in my life.
Grace, Lori, and I also started talking about letting me be myself when it comes time to market the book.
While I appreciate the fun of being spunky, sassy Mia Lane, I feel like this new book came from a different part of me, something raw and vulnerable.
So, I’ll be publishing it under Camilla Lane, and I’ll be retiring Mia’s style at least for a little bit.
I want to feel like my real self when I talk about this book and what it did for me.
Even though the book worked out, I don’t regret accepting the teaching position at DCU.
I’m more excited about it than ever. Jason was eager to put out a press release as soon as all the paperwork was signed, and several of the students from my workshop have already reached out to congratulate me. Everything about it just feels right.
A pickup truck pulls up outside, and two men hop out. One goes to the cab of the moving truck while the other checks the hitch at the back for the trailer that will hold my car.
“I’m going to miss this place,” I say, as I watch the men work. I’ll have to check in with them soon, making sure they’re all set with everything they need before I fight Jigsaw into his carrying case, and we go to the airport.
I lovingly pat the worn wood of the treehouse wall. So much has happened here. When I look down to my front lawn and see the For Sale sign hammered into the grass, my heart gives a painful squeeze.
“It’s going to hurt losing it,” I say mournfully.
“But you’re not,” Forrest says before he awkwardly shifts, bumping into me, and pulling a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. “This arrived today.”
I unfold the page. It’s the confirmation letter from the company that let me name a star. I forgot I had it sent to Forrest since the star was a gift for him.
The Treehouse.
“You’re not really losing it since it’ll always be with us,” Forrest reminds me, wrapping an arm around me so his fingers ghost over the tattoo on my side through my thick layers. “And if that’s not enough, I promise to figure out how to build you a treehouse up a damn palm tree.”
And Forrest Dane never breaks a promise.