Chapter 24
Ethan
I had no idea how I managed to get us here without running a stop sign or plowing into a light pole.
The whole drive, all I’d wanted to do was look at her.
That dress—silky, cut just right—clung in ways that made my throat dry.
Her legs caught the last of the sunlight as she shifted in the seat, and those strappy heels had no business making me think the things they did.
I killed the engine, took a slow breath, and reminded myself I was supposed to be the responsible one here. The one showing her my town, not thinking about what it would feel like to brush my hand against her bare shoulder.
Climbing out, I rounded the truck to open her door. She glanced up at me as she slid out, her perfume wrapping around me before her hand even brushed mine for balance. And for one terrifying second, I wondered how the hell I was going to keep my hands off her all night.
She straightened her dress, flashing me a smile that made my chest tighten, and together we headed toward the glow of Memorial Hall. I told myself to look ahead, not at the way that silk moved when she walked.
The box office was nothing fancy, just a folding table by the doors with a hand-lettered sign that read TICKETS $5, but Lily lit up. I slid a bill across, took the stubs, and before we even made it inside, people were calling out to us.
“Ethan,” Lynn said as we crossed the lobby, her smile quick and warm before she turned to Lily. “And there’s my partner-in-crime. How’s the Summerfest planning holding up? They haven’t run you out of town yet, have they?”
Lily laughed, eyes bright. “Not yet. Though after today’s farm chores, I’m considering hazard pay. But honestly? It’s coming together. And I’ve recruited some of your students. Kayla told me you’re taking them to see Phantom in Columbus. She’s so excited she can hardly talk about anything else.”
Lynn’s expression softened, proud and a little amused. “She’s got the theater bug, no doubt about it. Always humming, always singing under her breath.”
Lily’s grin widened. “Well, that settles it. She’s destined for the spotlight. Is she in the show tonight?”
Lynn’s grin spread. “You didn’t hear it from me, but yes. She’s Annie!”
Lily gasped, grabbing my arm like she needed to anchor herself. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt through me, and I felt my heartbeat quicken under her grip. “No way! Of course she is. She’s tiny, she’s got that scrappy spark! Oh my gosh, it’s perfect. She’s wearing a wig, right?”
“Bright red curls,” Lynn confirmed, eyes twinkling.
“I’m going to lose my mind the second she steps on stage,” Lily said, laughing at herself.
Lynn laughed, and I couldn’t help the twitch at my mouth as I watched them. Lily’s excitement had that way of catching on to everyone around her, like striking a match in dry kindling.
And then, just beyond Lynn’s shoulder, I spotted Walt and his wife making their way over.
“Evening, Calloway.” Mr. Durbin tipped his hat from where he stood with his wife, paper program already in hand.
Before I could get a word in, Lily’s face lit up. “Mr. Durbin! Mrs. Durbin! Thank you again for today. It was wonderful. I’m still finding hay in my hair, but I wouldn’t trade it.”
Walt chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “You did all right, Lily. Better than some of the boys.”
Lily laughed, the sound easy and warm. “That’s going on my résumé—‘better than some of the boys.’”
Walt looked pleased. I felt it too, stupid as it was, a curl of pride like I’d had anything to do with how quickly she’d folded into the day.
We moved with the flow toward the doors, but Lily tugged at my sleeve, still buzzing. “Today was… I don’t even know how to describe it. The farm, the kids, the market. It felt like… roots, you know? Like everyone was tied to something bigger than themselves.”
I glanced down at her, surprised by the way she said it. “That’s what Willowbrook is. People show up for each other.” Dad’s line, out of my mouth before I could stop it.
She smiled, but there was a wistfulness in it. “It’s… different. I liked it. More than I thought I would.” She exhaled, then straightened her shoulders. “And now, I get Annie on top of it? Best crash course ever.”
“Glad you approve,” I said dryly, but I couldn’t help the tug of my own smile. I liked being the one showing her.
She grinned up at me. “Approve? Calloway, I’m ecstatic. Today was incredible, and honestly? It’s because of you. You made me see this town in a way I never could have on my own.”
The words caught me off guard, landing heavier than she probably meant them to. My heart raced, and I had to clear my throat before I managed, “Guess I’m glad you came, then.”
Inside, Matt waved from his row, Lucas bouncing on his knee and Ava sitting beside him. Rachel, Maggie, Nate, and Ben raised their hands and pointed to our seats. Somehow, Carol had already beaten us there, seated near the front, chatting with Jason and my mom.
As we walked to our seats, someone was saying hello.
Lily kept pointing, whispering to me—recognizing a mom from the farmers market, a kid who’d shown her his rabbit that morning, a neighbor who’d wandered into the bookstore earlier in the week.
Each time, she lit up with that same surprised delight, like she couldn’t quite believe she belonged in their greetings.
And I’ll admit—watching her start to piece the town together, connect the dots, it did something to me.
Lily took it all in, her gaze darting from face to face. “It’s like everyone’s here,” she whispered, sounding half in awe.
“That’s the point,” I told her. “The town shows up. Always.”
Her grin softened. “I’m starting to see that.”
The lights dimmed, and Lily immediately grabbed my arm, her nails pressing lightly through the fabric of my sleeve.
She didn’t even seem to realize she’d done it, eyes glued to the stage like it might burst open with Broadway magic.
I sat back, forcing myself to breathe normally, when every nerve in me had gone sharp just from her touch.
The curtain rose, and that was it. I barely watched the show.
Mostly, I watched her watching it. She gasped at the first big chorus number, whispering little wows under her breath.
Every time the music swelled, she squeezed my arm tighter, bouncing slightly in her seat like she might leap up and join the cast.
When Sarah strutted onstage as Miss Hannigan, hair teased high and voice sharp as a whip, Lily clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh. She leaned close, whispering, “She’s perfect,” warm breath skimming my ear and sending heat straight down my spine.
Then came Kayla, tiny frame in a red dress, her voice rising pure and sure over the orchestra.
Lily’s eyes shimmered, and before I knew it, she was blinking fast, swiping the corner of her eye.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“She’s… she’s amazing.” I didn’t even bother looking at the stage.
I was too wrapped up in the way she felt every note.
And when little Ian bounded out as Sandy, a too-big leash in his hand and a grin that stole the whole show, Lily lost it completely.
She tipped her head back and laughed, clinging to me like she might fall out of her seat.
The sound of it—bright, unguarded—rolled through me harder than any line or song on that stage.
By the end of the show, I couldn’t have told you half the plot. But I could’ve recited every single one of Lily Harper’s reactions, down to the way her shoulders shook when she laughed, and the soft way she whispered, “This is the best night,” like it was a secret meant only for me.
Somehow, I pulled myself together enough to clap when the lights came up for curtain call. The whole crowd shot to their feet, and Lily was first among them. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting “Bravo!”
She bounced on her toes, waving like Kayla might actually spot her in the sea of people. And when the little redhead did glance our way, Lily gasped so loud I had to bite back a laugh. “She saw me!” she whispered, shaking my arm like a kid. “She saw me, Ethan!”
By the time the cast filed into the lobby, Lily was unstoppable. She darted straight to Kayla, hugging her tight. “How could you not tell me?” she cried, holding the girl out by the shoulders. “You were amazing! Those notes? That stage presence? Star power, right here.”
Kayla giggled, cheeks pink as she leaned into Jason, hovering nearby. Lily spun to Sarah, eyes wide. “And you! Miss Hannigan? You stole every scene. Every single one. How could you not warn me? I nearly fell out of my seat laughing.”
Sarah tossed her teased hair and smirked. “Gotta keep some surprises.”
Lily hugged her too, unbothered by the makeup and hairspray, babbling a mile a minute about favorite lines and costumes. Watching her like that—over the top, glowing, hugging anyone in arm’s reach—it was impossible not to grin.
“Lily,” I said, catching her elbow as the crowd jostled around us. “There’s someone you should meet.” I steered her toward a petite woman with cropped gray hair and glasses on a chain, who was fielding congratulations from parents of cast members.
“Ms. Darley,” I said. “Director, music teacher, miracle-worker. This is Lily Harper.”
The woman’s eyes brightened. “Ah, the festival coordinator. I’ve heard whispers. Quite the job you’ve taken on.”
Lily lit up. “Are you kidding? This was incredible. The voices, the energy—you could put this on in Columbus tomorrow and pack the house. We have to make sure everyone at Summerfest sees what you’re doing here.”
Ms. Darley’s smile deepened. “Funny you should say that. The choir usually does a small performance at the fair, but it’s been scaled back the last couple of years.”