One Month Later
“Happy birthday, dear Lark. Happy birthday to you!”
“And many more,” Robin drawls out in a low tenor.
Lark blows out her thirteen candles, wearing a smile on her lips and a flush on her face. All around us, friends and family cheer and clap.
In the span of two months, we not only gained priceless friendships, but a family. Lark has three women she considers aunts who spoil her not just with gifts, but with their time and endless love.
She has a woman who my gram would have adored to pieces, and dare I suggest be very good friends with. I can imagine them walking through the graveyard, restoring every single headstone and making up their stories—who they were, what kind of lives they lived, and who they loved, scandals and all.
Lark also gained something I never thought she would ever experience—the love of more than one parent.
I know there are men and women out there in the world doubling down and playing both parts.
I understand every single struggle and every burst of excitement.
I never felt we lacked for something, however, because Eric was always there as well.
In the weeks since Christian showed up, he didn’t just say that he would be there for Lark and me, he proved it, and with every passing day, he does more for himself than I ever thought he could. He and Robin ended up becoming friends, and I think they both needed that friendship.
Then there is the man smiling at me from across the room. His eyes sparkle with mischief and a love so deep, it steals my breath every single time I look at him. Lark loves him, and so do I.
All because Cooper, now fully free of scent glands, ran out into the middle of the road. Okay, my car died as well, but hey, my little furry friend had a hand in landing us here as well.
“What did you wish for?” I tug a curl behind Lark’s ear as she gazes up at me and shrugs. “What’s that look for?”
“I’m about to get my wish.” She kisses my cheek, even though it’s her birthday, and runs over to Christian, who catches her with a laugh.
Odd, but then again, Lark is a bit of an odd girl.
“Birdie, walk with me?” Arlo reaches for my hand, and without thought I slide it into his and allow him to pull me from the sitting room, where our family looks on.
A flutter of anticipation rushes through me.
“Are you going to drag me out into the cold December air, Arlo?” I shiver just thinking about it.
“Yes,” he says, tossing me my coat, the one he purchased for me.
Catching the warm down, I snuggle into it, slip on my boots, and follow him outside, where big fat snowflakes begin to drift from the sky.
Christmas in Silent Springs truly is the wonderland everyone claimed it to be. It’s an experience, and just as Alice fell into that rabbit hole following a creature who kept checking the time, I fell into a world full of love so great that it healed all the wounds I thought were too deep to mend.
The only difference is I followed a skunk.
Semantics.
“Where to, my love?” Holding my hand in his, Arlo leads me to our favorite trail, one that winds around his mom’s property, Bloom’s beehives, and to a spring that billows with steam. Though there’s a chill in the air, there’s also anticipation, a restless energy that travels with the wind.
Arlo squints at the sky where the sun sits directly overhead. “I just wanted to walk with you.”
“Liar,” I tease. His palms sweat in mine, which might be gross to anyone else, but for the two of us, there isn’t a single bit of embarrassment.
“Do you have any regrets?” He glances down at me, those eyes peering through my soul.
“Never.” Not now. “Before I came here, I hurt. I hurt so much that every chance at happiness blinded me. But then you came along and showed me that love was within my grasp if I’d only reach for it.”
“I love you, Birdie.” Arlo tugs me close, hugging me to him, but not for long before he brushes a soft kiss across my forehead. “Come on.”
We walk in silence, enjoying the winding path until he leads me down a newer one, freshly pruned. “I know this path.” I realize it a moment before the chapel comes into view.
Arlo slows his steps. “The moment I first saw you, nerves flared inside me. I was drawn to you, from the freckles that stood out on your face, to the wild curls that surrounded you.” His voice shakes as he leads me to the restored stone path.
The A-frame chapel, which once sat in ruins, rises with fresh windows, trimmed ivy, and new beams.
“Arlo,” I whisper, stunned at the love and craftsmanship that went into this restoration.
“You scared me that day, Birdie.”
“Because I was lying in the middle of the road?”
“No.” He swallows as he opens the front door and leads me inside, where warmth spills out. “Because I knew you were my home.”
I turn to Arlo, watching his face. Tears well in his eyes as he tugs me deeper into the chapel.
I know he restored this building, this place that meant so much to his family, but all I see is him. All I know right now in this moment is him and that look on his face full of love and devotion so deep that my chest burns.
“Arlo, you are my home as well.” I don’t dare look away from him, I can’t.
Not even as he drops to his knee. My throat closes up as my heart hammers in my chest.
“Will you marry me, Birdie?” He licks his lips as he reaches into his flannel and pulls out a little black box holding an elegant ring. “You entered my life like a hurricane, sweeping me up and wrapping me around you. You are my perfect storm.”
“Yes.” A thousand times yes.
As I launch myself at the man of my dreams, cheers fill the air, our family joining in on this moment. I feel Lark’s body press against us as I wrap myself around her and Arlo, finally feeling complete for the first time in my life.