The Thorne at My Side

CHAPTER 22

What’s Worse than “Worse”?

MAGGIE

"Maggie, it's as simple as us trying to stay current with the trends, to use all the technology available to us. It isn't personal. It's politics."

I'm nodding and willing the sting in my nose to evaporate so I don't cry in front of the president-elect and her chief of staff.

Two people that I have given everything to this last year.

Two people who are telling me I don't have a job in their administration because they're going to use AIM for speech writing.

"We appreciate everything you've done with us, for us, and will help you get settled anyway we can," Ben says and the urge to kick him in the shins is strong.

"I understand. Is there anything else you need from me?" I ask slowly so I don't disturb the tears that are threatening to spill over.

"That's all for now," the president-elect says and she stands up and offers me a hand to shake. I return it but it feels like I'm floating away from my body. Like I'm watching myself shake her hand. Like maybe this is all a terrible dream.

How is it possible for me to have absolutely nothing left ?

No job.

No plan.

No partner.

No prospects.

I slide my bag on my shoulder and hand my security badge over to the agent at the door. The tears slam into the backs of my eyes as I envision walking int my empty apartment. So , i nstead of going straight to the metro station I decide to walk. It's warm for a November day and I am banking on the fresh air being good for me.

As I wind my way past the Smithsonian. I take in the scene around me. The walls of these buildings have seen so much history. I'm certainly not the first person to be strolling down these streets feeling dejected and rejected. There have been plenty of political analysts scorned in this town. When I reach the edge of the tidal basin, in the shadows of the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial, the water makes me think of home.

It's the last place I ever wanted to be but I know no one in my small hometown will care about all the things I've come to worry about here in D.C.. They'll be proud that I helped get the senator elected. They will think it's normal not to be working for her anymore. Or, they won't know any better, at least.

I could spin it so it seems like I was the one who left. Like I wasn't the one who was stood up on a blind date. Who didn't fall for the mystery person writing the words on the other side of a small e-ink screen.

They'll think my clothes are fancy; my big city habits exotic; my connections to people they see on TV mesmerizing.

I sit on a bench and look out over the water and call my mom.

“Well, hello, big shot!” My mom cheers as she answers the phone. “Charles, come here, Maggie’s on the phone. Come say hello before I tell her what Dawn was telling me about The Inn earlier.”

“Hey Mom,” I say, sounding every bit dejected as I feel.

“What’s wrong?” Her tone is more first responder than concerned parent.

“I, umm, I’ve decided to step away for a bit.”

“You got fired?” Dad supplies.

I suck in a breath between my teeth. “I wasn’t included in the restructured team.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” My mom coos into the phone. Her sympathy doesn’t help the tears I feel gathering.

“What do they think they’re going to do without you?” I hear my dad say. His voice starts louder, grows fainter, and then comes back to full strength which tells me he’s pacing a few steps away and back. The same thing I do when I’m processing new information.

“I dunno Dad. So, yeah, this is not ideal, but, umm, can I…” I stop to sniffle up the tears that are now flowing freely. “Can I come home for a bit?”

“How long is a bit?” I hear my dad ask from a distance while my mom says, “Of course.”

I smile and let my mom talk to me about town gossip and projects she’s working on while I walk to a bus to get back to my apartment. Going back to upstate New York is more than a few anxious paces but I need the change of scenery while I try to put my life back on track.

◆◆◆

Three days later, I'm in a rental sedan with two suitcases, an assortment of boxes filled with books and notebooks, and my preferred bed pillow, piled in the back seat. I've already paid my November rent so my apartment can just sit there. I'll decide about December after Thanksgiving.

Mom is thrilled to have me home in Lakeville. My little sister's wedding is New Year's Eve and now that I'm unemployed she has enlisted my help. I should start to tally the number of times she says “silver lining” or “when one door closes…” and adds a noncommittal shrug. Every time she does, my mind briefly flits to Austin and then I re consider .

Dad said he'd be thrilled to have me home for a month and I could hear the unsaid and only a month loud and clear. He’s the parent who believes in kicking the chicks out of the nest when he thinks they’re ready, not when they actually are.

My parents are both retired now, after putting my older brother through med school, me through law school, and my younger sister through undergrad. Academic performance is highly valued in the Collins family. Every phone call with them or visit home was peppered with questions from Dad about grades, job prospects, and salary projections.

Dad has always expected big things from my siblings and me. It started in childhood. Good grades, good effort on the teams we joined, good attitudes around the house when it came to chores.

And there were lots of chores. While my mom handled the laundry and my dad took care of the yard and the bathrooms, us kids handled everything else. Dishes, dusting, vacuuming, wiping down tables, washing windows; there was a routine and we followed it.

Not for an allowance mind you, no, this contribution was simply expected. We would work hard, as a team, and all achieve excellence, together.

None of us really understood how much we subscribed to this notion of Collins excellence until Liz lost her job and moved home. She started working at the coffee shop in town and would put up photographs she’d taken on the walls. Some sold and people around town asked her for portrait sessions, and then a year later Dad helped her finance a photography business. He used the money he had set aside for her advanced degree but, in a smart move, he didn’t mention that when he gave it to her.

Liz’s career pivot served as a turning point for him. He softened a bit about expectations, not that he’d ever really go easy on us, but he did start to sprinkle in personal questions when we talked instead of just 401k inquiries.

At first I felt jealous of Liz and the handout she got. I toiled through law school and she was just handed cash to start her dream business. Once that initial reaction passed I realized that going to law school was my dream because it led me to the career in political communications that I had always wanted.

It stung because it felt like, as the baby of the family, Liz, once again, just had things handed to her. When she was born, everything in our house shifted to make sure she was taken care of. CJ picked up some of my chores so I could help Mom take care of the baby.

In high school we’d take turns driving Liz around.

Memories surface of stopping for ice cream on the way home, or taking her to her friend’s houses on the weekends. The time we got stuck in a snow storm and had to walk to get help. As I exit the freeway towards Lakeville, I see the welcome sign commemorating our Guinness Book of World Records entry for longest domino chain reaction with anything besides dominos. I wasn't born when it happened but the story is taught to Lakeville’s young right after we’re taught the story of Adam and Eve. Our town lined up books from one end of downtown to the other and set them all tumbling down. Then we opened up the first library in city history with the books, T.H.E. Library named after Tessa Harper Edwards who led the world record efforts.

I decide to drive through downtown before heading to my parent's house. The coffee shop has a new sign, Liz's photography studio next door has a beautiful painted design on the window. Lewis Hardware glows under the fluorescents inside and I spot the lights flickering on in the apartment above.

I turn the corner and see a new space for my sister's friend Angie's interior design business and next to it the bake shop her friend Maeve opened.

I haven't been home for more than 24 hours in years. Always flying in just for the holiday and then flying out again to get back to work. I still know the latest news because Mom keeps me up to date on all the gossip and notable events. A lot has changed in the years I've been gone but it doesn't feel different. Just renewed.

The next generation is putting their mark on the town. My generation. The people I grew up with who stayed, or left and came back.

I pull into the driveway, put my car in park, and look up at my childhood home. My hands are still on the wheel as a tsunami of feelings hits me. Disappointment, sadness, embarrassment, fear, loneliness, insecurity, and oddly, relief.

What’s that doing there?

Ending up back at home as my life hits rock bottom is not supposed to feel right. It’s supposed to make me feel frustrated and twitchy and anxious.

I can see people walking around in the house. The porch light is on. With a deep breath, I climb out, grab my purse and one suitcase, and complete the solemn march back to my childhood home.

"MAYBE!" my little sister Liz yells out as she storms through the house to meet me at the front door. "You're home!"

“Hey Lizzard,” I laugh at the nickname she bestowed on me as a toddler because she couldn't say her G’s clearly. Liz wraps me in a hug and I look over her shoulder to see her fiancé, Kyle, standing century behind her.

“How are the lovebirds," I laugh and give Kyle a quick hug too.

"We're good," Liz says as walks back into the kitchen. "But even better now that you're here and Mom can channel some of her energy your way."

"What do you mean?" I ask as Dad comes up from the basement. He gives me a hug, a quiet “good to see you,” and then gets a beer and heads back downstairs. He gives Liz and I a smile and says, “I’ll let you girls catch up.”

Liz pulls out a bottle of white wine and starts to open it. Kyle makes his way to the cabinet and pulls down two glasses and sets them on the counter.

"I mean, she is absolutely bonkers about this wedding. I get at least four new ideas a day. With seven weeks to go she's still got way too much time on her hands to add projects. You need to reign her in."

"How do you expect me to do that?" I ask as she slides a glass of wine over the counter to me.

"Be practical. Tell her no." I laugh but Liz’s face is stern. "I'm serious, Nora has tried. There are lists galore and budgets and plans but she won't stop looking for new things to do."

If Nora Heely, my sister's best friend and most organized person I've met, can't get control of Mom, I'm not sure I'll be much help.

“Is that where she is now?”

“Probably. I don’t know who introduced her to Facebook Marketplace but she is absolutely obsessed with it and checks it constantly.”

"Is there a theme?" I ask.

"Winter wonderland," Kyle chimes in as he pops the top off a bottle of beer.

"Seriously, the possibilities are endless," Liz adds after a sip.

"I'll see what I can do." I mutter as I take my glass with me to the sofa. Liz and Kyle follow. Thank goodness they were waiting for me at Mom and Dad’s. It will be nice to ease into being home without incessant questions about why, or how long, or what happened.

"So, I want to know all the stuff you haven't told Mom," Liz says as she sits down with me. Maybe not such a calm reentry. Kyle perches himself behind her on the armrest.

"I hate to ask this but, do you already know everything I've told Mom?"

"Well, I'm not sure if it's everything but, Mom blew up the book club chat right after you called her."

"You're a Tome Raider?" I ask with an eyebrow raised because the book club group chat is notorious for being more about town gossip than about the books they're reading.

"I was tired of having to use Mom as my source." Liz says with a shrug. "There has been some exciting shit happening around here, I mean nothing as glamorous as a presidential campaign, but Angie and Jimmy's TV show is pretty fancy."

"You don't have to tell me, I bet Lakeville life is twice as exciting as D.C.,” I mutter quietly.

"I doubt that, but is boredom the reason you left? Mom said you lost the job, sorry about that by the way, I know how much it sucks."

"Thanks," I give her a salute with my wine.

"But, if you want to get another job, why wouldn't you stay?"

“D.C. isn't as small as Lakeville but it has its moments," I say and Liz's eyes grow wide.

"You've got an ex!" She proclaims and turns her body to fully face me on the sofa, tucking her legs up under her criss cross applesauce style. Her wine sloshes dangerously close to the edge of her glass with the movement but it doesn't spill over.

Kyle laughs and stands, "I'm gonna go watch whatever game your dad has on in the basement."

He kisses the top of Liz's head as he walks away. I feel a sharp pang of jealousy. It’s similar to the kiss on my temple Austin gave me when he crashed my date but I didn’t realize until seeing it here that I want that type of affection from a partner.

"He's not an ex," I say, getting straight to the point. If my mom is a bull dog for gossip my sister is a wolf. "I had two different situationships going I guess."

"Two?"

"Well, one was real. Or," I let out a frustrated puff of air. "Okay, I started a sex arrangement with someone I was working with. Just sex. No feelings. I actually hate his guts."

"Go on," Liz prompts with excitement in her eyes.

"And the other was," I look up at the ceiling and pull my lips in between my teeth. I close my eyes, turn back to Liz, open my eyes and say, "just texts."

"Just texts?" She repeats to confirm.

"He was a guy I was texting. I don't even know his name. I don't know who he is or what he does or what he looks like but I know that I am,” I pause and regroup, “Well, I was developing feelings for him and I miss talking to him every day. "

"You didn't want to meet him?"

"No I did, and I thought he did too. We set a date and then he didn't show up. And actually, my annoying sex exchange partner made an appearance and that made the whole night worse."

"And then you lost your job?"

"Because of Austin Thorne's new software."

"Why do I know that name?"

"He's sometimes on the TCM gossip sites, his dad owns TCM and Austin oversees the AI Media side of things."

Liz slides her phone out of the thigh pocket on her leggings and with one thumb she starts googling. I know she's going to find a picture of him and tell me how hot he is.

"Whoa, Maybe! He's a fox. Wait,” She continues swiping and typing. “Is this him?”

She turns her phone to me and it’s an Instagram post. Austin is walking out of a bar with Felix Fornier.

I sigh, "yeah that’s him."

Austin and all the things we did together live rent free in my mind and I don’t need a picture to bring memories of him in a suit to the forefront.

"Wait," she says as she continues sleuthing, "He's the guy you did the podcast with?"

"Yeah," I say because the way she asks this it's like she knows who he is.

"You two had some really good banter going, good chemistry. We could hear it through the audio."

"We?"

"The Tome Raiders. Mom sent it out when it was published because she was proud of you but all we could talk about at the meeting was how you two sounded like you were ready to pounce on each other."

I bite my lip thinking back to that day. My anger as I first realized who he was. How he had deceived me at the office earlier. How I knew, even then, he was a threat to my livelihood. How we started working together. The first kiss that felt like he'd branded me. The first time we were together and it felt like he met me in stride. The next time we were together and I was vulnerable and opened myself up to him, emotionally and physically.

"You pounced on each other didn't you?" Liz's question pulls me back to the present.

"He was my sex for stress-relief partner."

"And the guy who spoiled your blind date?"

"Yeah, and who put me out of a job."

"Yikes, well then it's a good thing he's hot because he doesn't have much else going for him."

I think about how attentive he was at, and after, yoga, about the way he held doors open for me, about the emotion in his eyes when the election results came in.

If he hadn't been the reason I lost everything I think I'd want to know him better.

"Anyway,” I transition because I’m not ready to examine those feelings. “I know Mom is going a little crazy with your wedding but are you excited?"

"Yes, so excited. My dress is beautiful and I can't wait to wear it. And I know we already live together and have been together for years but there's something about actually getting married that feels big."

"It is big," I tell her as I take a sip of wine. "To commit to spending the rest of your life legally bound to another person? That's huge."

"Legally bound," she laughs, "is that what you think marriage is?"

"More or less," I admit. "I know Mom and Dad had this amazing partnership and worked together as a team so Mom could keep working and we could all do the things we wanted to do but I think what they have is rare. I think people are too selfish to really put someone else's needs before their own for an entire lifetime."

"It's not about putting their needs before your own. It's about knowing that both of you have needs and figuring out how to best meet them. Yes, sometimes I do the thing Kyle wants to do but it isn't because I'm putting his needs before mine. It's because supporting him fulfills me and ends up benefiting us both."

I pause as I let her words sink in. I have believed for a long time that I'd need to find a partner that was willing to sacrifice for my career. Someone without ambitions of his own. A man that was willing to be at my beck and call.

But maybe when a person, who has their own thing going on, sets it aside for a moment to support you they’re showing a deeper kind of love.

A respectful kind of love.

And if it's a two way street, with each of you working on your own things side by side but leaning on each other along the way, that kind of love can last a lifetime.

I sit back on the sofa as this new perspective settles in. I’m so used to jumping to action when something needs doing. I’m accustomed to setting aside my task to complete the more urgent one. Or the one being asked of me. I can feel Liz watching me as I run through different scenarios, reframing them with this new support-not-sacrifice lens. I had never thought of it in this way.

I saw it as everyone sacrificing for the others. My mom with her laundry schedule and color coded calendar, sacrificing her free time for the family. My dad with his grocery list up on the fridge and expectations that we kids help out sacrificing a full night's sleep so he could leave early and be home to help with dinner. Us kids having to keep up with the chores together, often covering for each other if there was a big exam or project, a game, or social event, sacrificing our childhood because our parents needed help.

For the first time I'm seeing these things as love instead of resentment.

"Well, I like the way you put it but it doesn't matter. Austin hates me, I hate him, and the SMS guy isn't talking to me." I shrug and take a gulp of wine. "Should we go watch whatever sports game is on with Dad and Kyle?” I suggest. “I feel like if we're out of sight when Mom gets home from whatever errand she's running we'll be spared helping with a craft project."

"It's cute you think you'd be spared but yes, let's go." Liz says and we head downstairs together.

◆◆◆

“Margaret Geraldine Collins, get downstairs and help your father!” My mom yells from somewhere on the first level. I pull the covers down from my ears and blink my eyes open. With a quick lift of my head to peek out my window I can confirm that the day after Thanksgiving dawns with a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. It looks to be about three inches, nothing for upstate New York, but still enough to light up my chest with excitement.

I love snow. Well, I love snow the day after a holiday when you've got nowhere else to go .

Snow in D.C. is a nightmare. Everything turns gray and slushy and the metro platforms are slippery with the snow melt puddles left behind by everyone's boots. You have to carry a spare pair of shoes with you and the radiator heat in the office is always four degrees too warm to be called comfortable.

I hear my dad shoveling the front walk and I pad down the stairs to the front door.

"Morning Dad," I say as I step out onto the porch and wrap myself in my puffer coat.

"Morning Mags, beautiful day isn’t it!" He cheers.

"Need some help?"

“You can choose between shoveling or helping your mother pack away the china until Christmas.” He levels me with a stare that tells me he agrees shoveling is the better end of the deal. "She's delirious with happiness and activity. It means a lot that you're home,” he adds.

I scoff, "How do you figure? The way I see it I've failed in every possible way."

Dad stops shoveling and leans on the handle. "Accepting change, or admitting things didn't go according to plan isn't failure. It's strength. It's a skill. You'd never tell a friend or a colleague to look at this as a failure so stop telling yourself that nonsense."

"Yes, Dad," I say like a teenager but his words hit me in the solar plexus.

"Put on some sensible footwear and help me." He says before he scoops up another line of snow and tosses it off the path.

"Yes, Dad," I repeat but with a smile on my face. I see him smile before I turn around for the door. I slide into my snow boots from high school and walk out to the garage for the other shovel.

The two of us make quick work of clearing the walkway and the drive and as we’re sprinkling salt and sand down to prevent ice, Liz and Kyle pull up.

“Tree time!” Liz calls out as she steps out of their car. She and Dad wrap each other in hugs and Kyle gets a handshake before they reach me and we hug our hellos too. The front door opens.

“Finally! Everyone is here, let’s get out to Cole’s before all the good ones get picked.”

“Katherine, that boy has enough trees for everyone in Lakeville to have two, it’ll be fine.”

“But they’re all different sizes and shapes and we need the perfect one because it is the kick off to wedding month!”

My dad shakes his head with humor but he grabs the keys and I pile into the backseat. Liz and Kyle drive behind us on our way out to my old high school boyfriend’s farm. Cole MacDonald was a star first baseman for Lakeville H.S. and he inherited his family’s farm a few years ago.

Every year, my family treks out to MacDonald Farm for our Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. We then spend the day decorating it and eating leftovers. Wish lists are discussed over turkey sandwiches and Christmas music plays from the speakers in the kitchen. I haven’t been a part of the festivities since undergrad when I had the entire week off.

We pull down the road to the farm and it feels smaller than I remember. Everything about Lakeville felt small to me when I lived here. I couldn’t wait to move on to bigger, and better, things. Then once I lived the life of the bigger cities and more important things I barely spent enough time here to feel the smallness of it all. In the last week I’ve gotten waves from people as I pass them, been stopped and asked how I’m doing anytime I’m not in my car, and I was even invited to the next Tome Raider meeting.

I passed.

In D.C., occasionally, I’d get a wave from Joanne of Sunrise, but I didn’t know my neighbors. I worked with people but we rarely discussed anything besides work. Even Sam, who I would call my closest friend, and I haven’t talked since I left.

As we turn into the parking lot I feel tears well up in my eyes.

I’m lonely.

I swallow down the tears because I do not want to set off my mother’s alarm bells and when we step out into the cold I inhale the biting air and pull myself together. I send a quick text to Sam wishing her a Happy Thanksgiving even though the actual day has passed. Better late than never they say.

Liz and Kyle meet us at the edge of the field and my throat grows thick with emotion seeing them walk up holding hands.

“The Collins family! Merry Christmas!” I would know that voice anywhere, Cole MacDonald is headed our way. Slowly I turn and muster as much excitement as I can because if I didn’t want my mom to see me cry I definitely don’t want to break down in front of Cole.

“Cole MacDonald, how are you, darling?” My mother coos and I don’t miss the quick look she sends my way. Yes Mom, I’m aware, he’s attractive, he’s local, he’s single. Too bad none of that is doing anything for me at the moment.

Greetings and hugs are shared and while I’m wrapped up in Cole’s familiar embrace my phone starts buzzing in my pocket.

“Sorry,” I smile up at him. “I’m going to take this,” I tell him when I see Sam’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

“Maggie! I was so happy to see your text. How are you?”

“Hey Sam, I’m fine,” I say unenthusiastically as I take a few steps away from the group.

“I’ve got some news to share,” Sam starts.

“Oh yeah?”

“I got a job as Director of Content Strategy for Forever Home! That app that brought the puppies to the hockey game!”

Sam’s excitement is palpable. It reverberates off the cold cinderblock of aimlessness at my core.

“What?”

“I start in January. I had an amazing interview with this guy Wes who of course remembered me from the campaign stop,” she continues rambling excitedly as I spiral further and further down into despair. I start shaking my head quickly back and forth before my feet begin pacing an oval in the snow. She just got another job?

“How?” I ask, interrupting something about her being the most senior woman on the team.

“What do you mean? I needed a job.”

“But it’s not in politics. It’s a tech company. It’s, it’s…” I don’t know how to form words. I can’t process making a switch or veering off my career course.

“Listen,” Sam interrupts, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard her. “I know we got caught on the shit end of the stick after the election. But after the last several months of working my tail off I’m doing something that will be fun. I get to play with puppies all day and help them find their families. I get to coordinate events and help roll out the app in new markets. I wasn’t on Senator Quinn’s team for the politics. I was in it for the experience. All I want to do is use my words for good.”

My vision blurs as I look out at the pine trees. It isn’t tears, it’s a earth shattering thought causing a dizzying effect.

What if I’m not in politics anymore?

My instant reaction to Sam’s words makes it feel like the walls are crumbling down around me.

Maggie Collins, not in politics?

If I don’t want to continue in the field that I’ve spent my entire life working to get to the top of, what do I want to do?

Oh god, where do I go from here?

I’m almost 40, sure in the world of politics that’s pretty young, but it is way too old to start over. I’ll never make a name for myself in a new field at this point.

“Maggie, are you done with your call, love?” Mom calls out. “Cole said he’d help us cut down the tree,” she adds in a sing-song voice.

I look quickly at Kyle who is an Eagle Scout and more than capable of cutting down a Christmas tree. It looks like he’s about to share that tidbit too but Liz cuts him off with a whack to his chest.

I guess I’m the match-making target today. I roll my eyes and end the call with Sam promising her that I’ll call her again soon but feeling hopelessly lost in my thoughts and farther away from my friend than ever.

“Yep, let’s go,” I try to muster as much enthusiasm as I can.

We fall in line together, two by two. Mom and Dad, Liz and Kyle, and Cole and me at the end.

“Well, well, well, Maggie Collins is back in town,” Cole jokes and I laugh with him. “How long are you staying?”

“Not sure,” I admit with a shrug and I can feel his stare on me.

“That’s odd,” he says.

I turn to him, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve had a plan to get the heck out of Lakeville since grade school.”

I laugh a little in agreement.

When I don’t say anything, Cole continues, “I remember us in high school. Man, I sure loved you,” he laughs and I turn to him in shock. “But I kept telling myself that Maggie Collins wasn’t going to stay in town for anyone. She was going out to rule the world.”

“Ha, I didn’t even come close,” I scoff.

“No?” I feel Cole turn to look at me. “Your mom said you wrote speeches for President Quinn. That’s about as close to running the world as someone can get!”

“I guess so,” I shrug, “but I don’t do that anymore.”

“What happened?”

“They fired me,” and replaced me with a robot.

“Their loss,” Cole says with a quick lean in to bump my shoulder. I force a smile to hide how distraught I am. In one conversation with my high school crush I’m revisiting all my shortcomings and if he asks me what I’m going to do next there’s no way I could keep myself together. “You staying until the wedding?”

“Probably,” I shrug again and Cole stops walking. He reaches out and grabs my hand so I stop too.

“Maggie, I can tell you’re lost. It happens to all of us. Try to remember what’s important to you, why you made all the career and life choices you did so far. It’s not that they led you astray, they led you here.” Cole reaches up and grabs hold of my shoulders, he lowers his head so we’re eye level before he continues. “And you can always start fresh from here,” he says and then he turns my shoulders so I’m forced to turn around.

Behind me is a view of Lakeville I’ve never seen before. There is a clearing where last year’s trees were harvested and I can see down the rolling hills to the lake, I can see Sunfish Park, I can see the buildings in town with their Christmas decorations already shining.

It’s beautiful but I don’t have the heart to tell Cole it also makes me itch to leave. As far as places to be from go though, Lakeville ranks pretty high up on the list. I just wish I knew where I was going from here.