Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
January 2025
I t was the first day of the new year, and Stella was hosting a party at the house. It was the same house she and Matt had purchased when she was pregnant with Logan, the same house they’d brought both babies home to, the same house in which she and Matt had suffered from COVID and decided, together, to divorce.
But it was also the same house Matt planned to move back into by mid-summer 2025.
They were going to take things slow.
But they were already madly in love. It made “slow” difficult.
Standing in the kitchen, she listened to the funny conversations in the living room between her family members—her mother, father, brothers, and their wives, plus Aunt Esme and Uncle Victor, Valerie, Bethany, Rebecca, and their partners and children. Chloe and Logan were at the piano, playing a duet and singing along badly. Outside, snow fell gently across the dark sands.
Impossibly, Uncle Victor and Aunt Esme were back together again.
This house is filled with love.
The beeper sounded, and Stella bent down to retrieve the croissants. She’d made them herself, which meant that her apron was coated with flour and dough, and her anxiety was high due to the difficulty level. Her mother had said, You should really just buy croissants. It’s too much of a hassle. But they’d risen crisply and golden, ready for gooey bites.
“What’s that heavenly smell?” Matt appeared in the kitchen holding several empty glasses. He wrapped his arms around Stella and kissed her tenderly on the back of the neck and the cheek.
Stella closed her eyes and twirled around to kiss him. It still felt sensational and new to kiss him—this man, the love of her life. How many times had she kissed him over the years? One hundred thousand? A million? Their kids weren’t even grossed out by it anymore. They were just so pleased.
“People are begging for refills,” Matt said of the empty glasses. “I said I’d play bartender this time.”
“Good thing we have plenty of wine to go around,” Stella said, hurrying around to fetch another few red and white bottles.
“I have to admit,” Matt said as he drained a bottle of red. “Our children don’t have a musical bone in their bodies.”
Out in the living room, Logan or Chloe hit several wrong notes on the piano and cackled. But they were undeterred. They were going to make it to the end of the song.
“We’ve taught them about perseverance, I guess,” Stella joked.
“Maybe we should have taught them to know when to quit,” Matt shot back.
Stella chortled just as Aunt Esme entered with her cousin Bethany in tow. Bethany was a surgeon at Nantucket Hospital and had worked all the way through the holiday season until today. In Stella’s mind, that meant she got the first croissant.
“That’s so sweet of you,” Bethany said, taking the biggest and gooiest. “I was just telling Mom, I’m beat. But I finally had a chance to read your book this morning. Stella! It’s amazing.”
Matt slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed her. “It’s a work of art. I’m so proud of her.”
“I’m just glad the book tour’s over,” Stella admitted. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for all that travel.”
“In your book, you seem ready for travel at a moment’s notice!” Bethany said.
“I was twenty-one.” Stella sighed. “Now, I like my own bed.”
And I like to have Matt in that bed with me.
Matt and Stella delivered glasses of wine to their family members. Rebecca and Valerie stole Stella away for a little while, begging her for more info on her book tour.
“You were interviewed by some of the best in the podcasting world,” Rebecca said, bug-eyed. “And you didn’t even answer their questions!”
“Right? I was amazed by that. You stood so strong,” Valerie said.
“My agent wasn’t pleased,” Stella admitted. “Gwen wanted me to go in there and give them every scrap of myself. But I wanted to retain a little dignity, you know?”
Rebecca and Valerie nodded.
And then Valerie snapped her fingers. “I meant to tell you this. It’s a funny story.”
“Uh-oh.” Stella read something sinister in Valerie’s eyes.
“It was years ago in San Francisco,” Valerie said. “There was a major music award show happening, and I was in charge of hosting the music journalists in town to write about it.”
Stella’s heart began to pound. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going.
“I can see how frightened you are.” Valerie laughed. “I did meet James that night. He was honored for an interview with Liam Gallagher, and I congratulated him on the piece but told him I’d never been an Oasis fan.” Valerie cackled.
Stella giggled, too. “Uh-oh.”
“He launched into a big tirade about the importance of Oasis in nineties British pop,” Valerie said. “I was like, ‘shut up!’ But he laughed after about two minutes and said, ‘My daughter told me to get over Oasis. I’m trying. But it’s hard.’ And I remember what I said. I said, ‘You never get over your first love.’ And he gave me this strange and beautiful look. And then, he whipped out a photograph of his sailboat and said, ‘I named my boat after my first love. I doubt she ever remembers me.’”
“What a strange story,” Stella breathed.
“It all came back to me the other day when I finally picked up your book,” Valerie said.
Stella knew that Valerie had had a chaotic autumn of her own. She and her ex-husband had also gotten back together after a tumultuous few years apart. They’d already exchanged notes on that—the idea that love could always be refurbished. The idea was that nothing good should be thrown out.
“Thank you for telling me that story.” Stella hugged Valerie. “I’m so glad James and I got to meet each other again. And I’m so glad he still has that silly sailboat! I’ll never forget it.”
“We never forget the beautiful things,” Valerie agreed. She wiped a tear from her cheek.
A little while later, Matt and Stella stepped outside for a brief stroll down the beach. Stella was overheated from all her work in the kitchen, and Matt was jittery from all the questions from her family members. Stella had just told them on Christmas that she and Matt were back together—and nobody knew quite what to make of it.
“Your dad asked me about Mandy,” Matt said, wincing. “They met her a few times and were trying to get on board with our ‘modern family.’ But this has thrown them for a loop. I don’t think they trust me.”
Stella squeezed Matt’s hand. “It might be awkward for a while. But Chloe said she overheard my mother and father talking about it. Apparently, they’re really, really happy. Mostly. They’re just worried we’re being rash. Again. And you know that my mother hasn’t trusted me since I ‘disappeared’ in Greece.”
“We both have a reputation with your parents.” Matt laughed. “That’s for sure.”
Stella stopped on the beach to watch as a seagull flailed over a wave. She then turned to look up into Matt’s eyes.
“I think getting divorced was the right thing at the time,” she said firmly. “It forced us to do some soul-searching.”
“All my soul really wanted was you,” Matt said.
Stella cackled and punched him in the arm. “Don’t get too cheesy on me. This isn’t a romance novel.”
James and I would be sailing into the sunset right now if it had been a romance novel.
But instead, I’m here.
With my family.
Life is good.
“It certainly is not a romance novel,” Matt agreed. “It’s better.”
They held the silence for a few minutes, watching the birds and the waves and holding hands. Tears filled Stella’s eyes.
“Mom! Dad!”
Stella and Matt turned as Chloe and Logan raced across the sands, putting on their coats and zipping them to their chins. They were red-cheeked and happy. A month ago, Chloe had told Stella that she’d prayed every night that Matt and Stella would get back together. It’s like the parent trap, she’d explained. Every kid wants that. Even the grown-up ones.
Stella had not told Chloe she wasn’t grown up yet at sixteen.
Stella didn’t want Chloe to grow up at all.
But it would happen.
Logan, Chloe, Matt, and Stella wandered along the beach, picking up cold stones and skipping them over the water. The sounds of Christmas songs came from the house because Stella’s mother always played them deep into February; she couldn’t get enough. She’d taken control of the speakers.
As Stella skipped stones over the Nantucket Sound, she thought about the Aegean Sea, which is connected to this beach by thousands of miles of water. It wasn’t hard to picture herself in a little sailboat called Stella, staring out at the turquoise waters, wondering what the rest of her life would bring.
It’s this, Stella wanted to tell her. Just hold on, and you’ll be happier than you ever thought possible. I promise. Be patient with yourself. And never be afraid to start again.