As she dried off, she took in a deep breath of fresh air to calm herself. When she’d first come to that beach, she’d been battling sadness, and now, when leaving it, she still was. This time, though, it couldn’t be fixed with a new job or a plane ride. This sadness was formed by people and family and a charming place that she’d miss very much. She went inside to get dressed so she could see Pete one last time.
* * *
Libby opened the door to the cottage to find Pete leaning against his Bronco out front with that crooked grin on his face and a bunch of wildflowers in his hand. The wildflowers made her happy because they were so unexpected, so full of life, each one with its own personality. Some of them drooped over his hand while others were tall, their blooms bursting from the center of the bouquet. He’d picked them, she could tell. The stems were wrapped in a little brown paper at the bottom to keep them together.
“For you,” he said as she came closer.
She took in the sweet smell of the flowers as he handed them to her. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She didn’t want to think about the fact that the entire cottage had been packed as quickly as she’d unpacked it, and that she didn’t even have a glass to put the flowers in. She probably couldn’t take them on the plane, so she’d have to leave them there, like everything else. When she climbed into the bronco, she set them on the seat beside her. Pete shut her door for her and then went around to the other side and climbed in.
“I know you don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to show you something.”
They drove for a few minutes until the cottages gave way to woods, and the street narrowed into one lane. Pete turned onto a dirt road, the truck bouncing beneath them, causing her flowers to rustle. Libby held on to the door handle for support. Finally, they came to a stop in the woods. Something about that place was very familiar. Even though it was nothing but a patch of trees, there were memories lurking there, she could feel them.
“Where are we?” she asked when he opened her door.
“It looks different now than when we were here last. The paths are overgrown.” He took her hand to help her out of the car. “Watch your step,” he said, pointing out a large limb, probably knocked down during a storm.
As they walked through the woods, the memory of it was coming back in cloudy bits. The night hadn’t been anything special, she remembered. It had just been a normal night. They spent most of their childhood outside, and when they’d gotten older and started dating seriously, that didn’t change. One night, Pete had taken her there because it was quiet, and, like most teenagers, they liked being out of the sight of their elders. She did remember that path…
Pete took her hand again and led her down the path that was so full of underbrush it was barely recognizable from the path they’d taken as kids. She was glad she’d slipped on her sneakers today. The branches and leaves had nearly covered the path, and Libby wondered how Pete even knew where he was going. She looked over at him. He was clearly focused, determined on getting wherever it was. Even though it just looked like woods to her, it must not to him.
Not too far down from that, there was a clearing that overlooked the water at a distance. She remembered that clearing. But, in the clearing, there was something new. Sitting all by itself was a rustic bench made from the trunks of trees, the bark still intact. Libby walked over to it and ran her hand along the back of it. Then, with a tiny gasp, she turned her head sideways to read the inscription on the center tree trunk on the back of the bench. There was a heart carved, and inside it read “Pete & Libby.” She’d never seen anything more beautiful. The imperfections of it gave it so much character. The sight of it brought tears to her eyes.
“Do you remember when we carved that on the tree?” he asked, walking up behind her.
She did remember. It was evening and the woods were aglow with lightning bugs. It was after he carved those words in the tree that he turned to Libby and kissed her for the very first time. From that moment on they were inseparable.
“I come here sometimes to be alone,” he said.
“Whose land is this?” she sniffled, blinking the tears away as she stood beside him, her emotions overwhelming her suddenly.
“Pop’s. He’s owned it for as long as I can remember.”
“When did you make this?” She patted the seat of the bench.
“A little while after you left.” He turned to her and smiled. “I don’t have a memory box. This is it for me.”
The breeze blew in through the trees, making the leaves crackle. Libby thought about that first kiss they’d had so many years ago and how happy it had made her. As she looked at him standing in front of her now, she still felt the same way about him. Never before and never since had anyone made her that happy. He was her puzzle piece. He was The One. This time, she didn’t try and talk herself out of the feelings. She didn’t push them away.