Page 113 of Notes About Vodka

“For what, Val?” she asks with hazy, dreamy eyes.

“For this!” I throw her towards the deep end of the pool as high as I can, causing her to splash down. She comes up in a fit of laughter before jumping and attacking me, pushing me under with her.

A few minutes later, we’re exhausted but exhilarated as we wander back toward Laura’s apartment.

Thank goodness Skipper and Rhea had gone back inside the apartment because they had the heat going and warm towels waiting when we opened the door.

Just two more weeks and she will be home with me, forever.

We dry off and huddle together on the couch, wrapped in blankets. The storm rages on outside, but inside, it’s warm and cozy. We talk about our hopes, our dreams, and everything in between. There’s a sense of renewal, of starting fresh.

I tell Laura I will always support her dreams.

As I drift off to sleep, Laura’s head resting on my chest, I realize something important. The Fourth of July might be about celebrating independence, but for me, it’s about connection. It’s about finding joy in the little things, making up for past mistakes, and cherishing the people who matter most.

I close my eyes, a content smile on my face. This weekend has been a whirlwind of emotions, but it’s exactly what I needed. And as the rain continues to fall, I know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, we’ll face them together.

Chapter Thirty-Two

LAURA

“What’s vodka’s favorite musical instrument? The glass-harmonica!”

I lean back in my chair, the hum of the research lab a familiar comfort.

A notification dings, and I glance down to see it’s another message from Val. He’s back in NYC while I finish my final week in Baltimore, but he finds ways to keep me close. Today, it’s a delivery with my name on it, right to the lab. I peel back the bag and grin—a full lunch, my favorite sandwich, a little dessert, and a note that says, “Until I can make you lunch myself.”

I snap a picture and send it to him.

Me: How’d you know I was starving? I’ve been running on caffeine and stubbornness for hours.

Val: I know you too well. But maybe this is a sign… Lunch before coffee?

Me: Pushing your luck, Mister. But I guess I’ll allow it today.

It feels easy between us now. We’ve finally moved past our first real argument, and every little gesture Val makes reminds me of his willingness to listen and learn. Despite his humor, he's worked hard to understand why I got so hurt back in June, and now we’re finding ways to communicate that actually work. Even if it means being more honest and vulnerable than either of us is used to.

After this internship it’ll be time to head south for one more trip before school starts back. It’s going to finally be my last year as an undergraduate student.

First, I’m taking Val to Hurtsboro, Alabama, then Wilks, Florida, where he will finally meet my large, extended family. Meaning, my grandparents! He couldn’t go back in June, but I know he’s going to love it there.

The thought of introducing him both excites and terrifies me, but Val's been in the loop for months when I talk to my family on the phone.

Me: By the way, are you ready for southern hospitality at its finest?

Val: As long as there’s sweet tea and front porches, I’m all in.

My internship is over and we’re driving in the car we rented from Atlanta down dusty dirt roads leading to my childhood home.

Even though it’s late July, the air feels thick, and everylandmark brings back a memory: the field we’d run through as kids, the creek where we’d wade to cool off, and the trailer park nestled between towering pines and peanut farms.

I catch Val’s face as he takes it all in, his eyes widening slightly.

“This is it,” I say, a little breathless. “Welcome to my world.”

We step out of the car, and the family practically pours out of trailers and Jim Walter homes on stilts to greet us—aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, and a few folks who’ve known me since I was in diapers. Val’s hand rests firmly in mine, but he’s all smiles and southern charm, effortlessly blending in with everyone.

As the family gathers around us, there are a cacophony of hugs, handshakes, and laughter.

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