“I’m sorry,” she said.
He pulled his head up and looked at her.
She closed her book and set it beside her on the bench. “I know how much you have on your plate with Pop, and it was so selfish of me to even mention what I want right now. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. I care about you. I just want you to know that.”
“I still don’t know how it will all work out, but I’m glad you’re home,” he said.
Libby nodded, unable to control the tears in her eyes. Pete leaned back on the bench and propped his arm up behind her. She scooted a little closer and put her head on his shoulder. He moved his hand to her shoulder, and she could feel the movement of his fingers on the top of her arm. As she sat there, feeling the warmth of his shoulder against her face, she couldn’t help but wish for more days just like that.
* * *
Libby had spent the last two weeks helping with Pop. She’d given her two weeks’ notice at Riddick Wiesner, and she planned to try and get Marty to give her the old job back, but other than that she had no plan for what was to come next. She didn’t know where she’d live or what was going to happen with Pete. She just enjoyed each day as it came.
Pete walked onto the sand with two glasses of lemonade and handed one to Libby. He’d been gone quite a while. She took an icy, cold sip as she looked out over the calm waters of the Chesapeake Bay, the sun on her face. Pete sat down in the chair beside her.
There’s nothing better than this, she decided. Being beside him was more like living than anything she’d done in her working career. This is how life should be, she thought. There was nowhere in the world she’d rather be than by his side.
“This is perfect,” she said aloud, looking back out over the bay. “What’s Pop doing inside?”
“Mom took him into town for a while.”
They sat quietly until they’d had their lemonade. Then Pete stood up. “Can I show you something?” he asked. “Inside.”
Libby got out of her chair and followed Pete across the beach. He led her inside, down the hallway, and they stopped outside his bedroom. He opened the door and allowed her to enter. There, in the center of the room, was a gorgeous wooden chest. It was huge, the wood new and shiny with lacquer. She’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“Go take a look,” Pete said.
Libby fingered the latch of the enormous chest in front of her. It was nearly as big as the trunk of a car, the kind her mother used to keep all her baby clothes in. The scent of cedar came rushing toward her as she bent down to have a closer look at the smooth, oily looking surface. The natural grains—both dark and light—stretched along the top in beautiful, random streaks.
“Did you make this?” she asked Pete in nearly a whisper.
He nodded. “Do you know what it is?” he asked.
“Is it a hope chest?”
“For most people it’s a hope chest,” he smiled. “It’s a new memory box.” His gesture filled her with happiness. Standing there with him, she felt whole for the first time in her life. She’d always been chasing success, the next thing. In that moment, she realized that there was so much she could chase with him. Her mind went to their family and to the feeling of being with him. She wouldn’t ever have to say goodbye to anyone again.
“So much has changed since we were together as kids,” he said. “Back then, we didn’t know how to appreciate what the other had to offer. With Pop, over the last few months, I’ve seen how generous you can be, and I’ve watched you give so much to everyone around you. I’m willing to try to make us work if you are.”
They’d come so far, had so many obstacles in their way, but in the end, she had exactly what she needed and the person she loved. She put her arms around him as she thought about all the days she would spend doing her best to make him happy, the blank canvas of a life they had in front of them, the hope of growing old with him and being as content as Pop and Nana had been. She was ready to do her very best to make it work. With her face only inches from his, she said, “I’m so ready.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and looked down at her. Then he kissed her. It was like no kiss she’d ever had before. With that kiss, she could finally feel what he felt—he didn’t hold back. His spicy scent, his strong arms around her, his unstill hands at her back, the feel of his lips moving on hers, all making her dizzy. She reached around his neck, intertwining her fingers there, pushing herself as close to him as she could get. He didn’t kiss like this back in high school, she thought. Then she thought about how she’d get to have kisses like that over and over and over.