Page 70 of The Tryst

Of course, there’s still one empty seat that we always leave for Wade to join us in spirit.

It’s been nine months since he died and it’s been a struggle for us all, but we’re also persevering.

Laughter rings out around the table, Gabe and Trey poking at each other with friendly rivalry. Fi tilts her head closer to Sylvie who appears to be whispering a juicy secret into her grandmother’s ear. Tommy, Ethan and Kat argue about something to do with horses, but I tune them out because Marcie and I have been chatting about summer vacation plans.

I absolutely need a vacation as I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for months running the printshop.

I’m still not sure if I want to do this for my career, but it seemed like the logical place to start earning money upon my return to Shelbyville. I needed to have money to pay rent, after all, because Trey and I found a lovely house only a few miles from the farm.

Life has been good and even my mother and I have found a sort of peace. I give her money each month that keeps her in the same style of living she had when my father was alive. Her expenses aren’t all that much with the house paid off plus she has the proceeds from my dad’s life insurance, but it has allowed us to ease into a less contentious relationship.

Ethan raps his fist on the table, and I jump. We all turn his way. “If I may point out, the men did dishes last weekend, so it’s the women’s turn now.”

He’s not wrong. We’ve taken to splitting kitchen cleaning duty between men and women on alternating Sundays and only because we had too many people in there at once and it was too hectic. So, with dinner officially over, the guys leave to the formal room to relax for a bit and us womenfolk get busy putting food away and cleaning up the dishes.

Kat, Marcie and I chat up a storm while we portion leftovers into containers, rinse and load the dishwasher, and wipe down the counters. It’s only when I’m drying my hands on a kitchen towel that I notice we’re the only three in the kitchen. I’m not sure at what point Fi and Sylvie slipped out.

“It seems awful quiet, doesn’t it?” Kat asks as she cocks her head.

“A little too quiet,” I agree and head out of the kitchen.

Marcie and Kat follow and we’re all three bewildered when we find the formal dining room empty.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Marcie murmurs, pointing a finger so Kat and I turn to follow her direction. “But look at that.”

On the mantel sits three white boxes wrapped with gold ribbon. They’re all the same size, no more than five-by-seven inches and fairly thin.

We approach and see there’s one for each of us, our names written in cursive on white tags.

Silently, we each take our box, looking at each other, glancing around to see if anyone pops out to yell something at us, but we’re clearly alone.

“Jewelry?” Kat muses.

“Only one way to find out,” Marcie says and pulls the ribbon off her box.

Kat and I follow suit and all three of us lift the tops off the boxes at the same time.

“What in the world?” I mutter, pulling out a puzzle piece almost the size of the box it was in.

A single puzzle piece with some sort of landscape picture on it, but I can’t tell what it is. I’m not shocked to see Kat and Marcie also have a puzzle piece in hand and we quickly deduce that they’re meant to be put together.

Kat grabs the cardboard pieces from me and Marcie, moves to the low coffee table and snaps them together. We lean over her shoulder, each of us immediately seeing it’s a photograph of our pond where we hang out.

“I’m not all that good at figuring out mysteries,” Marcie says with a shake of her head. “But I’m guessing we’re supposed to go to the pond.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong,” Kat says in a somewhat irritated tone. “I can only imagine what those boys have planned.”

“I’m not skinny-dipping with all of you,” I point out.

Kat rolls her eyes, throwing her head toward the door. “Let’s go see what our men are up to.”

We pile into Kat’s ATV, the cool spring air whipping through our hair as we drive down to the pond. The landscape is bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the shadows long and the light golden. It’s peaceful, almost magical, and I can’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in my chest. Trey’s been acting funny all week and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but he’s clearly up to something.

As we round the final bend, the pond comes into view, and the sight that greets us stuns me. Hundreds of stringed lights are draped in the trees and dozens upon dozens of candles and lanterns line the edge of the dock, casting the entire area in a warm, flickering glow. Tommy, Fi and Sylvie are at the start of the dock wearing amused smiles as Kat brings the ATV to a stop before them.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

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