Love Me for Me(86)

“Y’all hungry?” Jeanie thrust a bowl of potato salad between them. “Eat up. That’s what it’s here for.”

“I’ll take a few of those ham biscuits, Jeanie,” Pop called from his chair.

“I knew you would!” Jeanie reached into the basket and pulled out a stack of paper plates, handing one to each person. “I’ve got chocolate-chip cookies for dessert, y’all!”

As they started passing the food around—chips, rolls, cucumber slices and potato salad—it was Helen who quieted the chatter by raising her glass of wine. “I’d like to make a toast,” she said on her knees to be above everyone. Charlotte raised her sippy cup. “I am so thankful to have everyone here tonight. May we always be as content as we are in this moment.” Then Helen turned to Libby, her glass still raised. “I’m glad you came home, baby girl. Cheers.”

Libby touched her glass to Helen’s and sipped her wine. She took in all the faces around her smiling and holding their drinks. She hadn’t thought they’d be together again. A band started to play on the lawn under an enormous tent with more tables of wine. Pete refilled Libby’s glass. She could barely look at him or the tears would come; she could feel them rising up. This—all her loved ones, Pete, everyone—this was what she wanted. This was what made her happy. How could she ever be happy in New York when all the people she loved were in White Stone? She took a sip of her wine and tried her best to be in the moment.

“Did you know,” Pop said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “that I’ve been coming to this since 1963. Even back when we had it at the town fire station, before this,” he waved his hand out at the vineyards. “I remember when Helen was Charlotte’s age. We gave her ice cream on the hottest Independence Day in history, and it melted down her dress.” He smiled, his eyes dancing in the setting sunlight. Libby felt tears in her eyes. She was sentimental. Not because everyone she loved was around her this time, but because Pop could remember. For that one fantastic night, Pop remembered.

Charlotte had pulled out a bottle of bubbles and, as the sun slipped below the horizon, the bubbles floated up into the sapphire sky. Large tiki torches burned at the edges of the vineyards and along the sides of the tents with the band and wine tables. One by one, the stars began to appear in the sky, and the blue faded to black. Then, all became quiet, and, like magic, a large Crack, and an explosion of color filled the sky. Red and blue and gold fanned out in the black of night and fizzled its way toward them until it disappeared. With another Crack, more fireworks shot up. Libby watched Charlotte. The little girl’s eyebrows were raised, her mouth open in an enormous grin, her hands covering her ears.

As the last few fireworks went up, Libby sat, her arms around her knees, the nearly empty glass of wine in her hand. With all the excitement, she had only just noticed that Pete was sitting behind her. His warmth shielded her only a little from the breeze, and she wished he would put his arms around her. Jeanie had leaned back on her elbows, her head tilted toward the sky. Helen had Charlotte in her lap, bouncing her little legs in time with the music. Pop was dozing—how, with all that was going on, she didn’t know—in his chair. Celia was talking to Ryan and Emily. So much of her life Libby had spent trying to achieve perfection, or close to it. She’d left everything behind in search of it, when, as she looked around, she knew now, without a doubt, it had been right there all along.

When the last of the fireworks had finished, Helen helped Jeanie pack up the dishes and blankets. Ryan picked up Charlotte, who had curled up on her side with a small blanket, her eyes blinking heavily as she tried to fight sleep. Charlotte put her head on her daddy’s shoulder. Emily piled the toys into her bag and then started helping the others. Pop was still sleeping in his chair. Libby helped Jeanie with the dishes, but she kept her eye on Pete.

The night was ending, and she didn’t want it to. Panic shot through her as she watched him picking up his things. She didn’t want to be away from him. Ever. She had to try one more time to explain herself or the what-ifs would drive her crazy. She’d done it all wrong last time. If she could just convey to him what she was feeling, maybe he’d change his mind. She grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear, “Can we stay back after everyone leaves? I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll take Dad home tonight, Pete,” Helen said, her eyes darting between the two of them, a smile playing at her lips. “Glad to see ya, Libby.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she said, still glancing at Pete and waiting for an answer. His face showed no emotion, but he made eye contact and nodded.