Page 47 of Wish For Me

Grandpa gawks.

“I kept up the pre-flight training,” I say as Enzo grabs a handful of cookies.

“It’s working for you. I’m gonna need that regimen.”

Continuing to work out has been the only constant in my life since getting back and trying to figure out my next steps. The only thing keeping my head clear. When I push myself as hard as I can, images of Noelle take a backseat—for a few seconds.

It’s the only time.

Enzo moved back to town a couple of years ago to take over his dad’s property business after he retired, so he sees our grandparents more than I do. But he still gives them a hearty hug each after pocketing the cookies.

“Where you going?” Enzo asks me, seeing the coat for the first time.

“I was just heading out to the craft thing,” I say to Enzo. “I need to get presents.”

“For me?”

“I already got you a moon keychain.”

This makes Enzo burst into hearty laughter.

I hesitate before heading to the foyer to put my boots on. Enzo can be a bit intense with his constant chatter. But maybe he’d be a good distraction.

I’m here early to spend more time with my family, anyway.

Enzo looks at me expectantly.

“You can come with me if you want.”

He grins. “Thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

The Mistletoe market moved outdoors a couple of years ago, to a parking lot off the Quince River. It’s pretty here. December sunlight sparkles off the river, and there’s a park next door covered with snow-dusted trees. Vendors and shoppers are bundled in puffy coats and hats, and a band is covering Christmas hits at the far end of the lot. The elf at the entrance is a grumpy older woman I don’t recognize.

“Where’s Carla?” I ask Enzo.

“Moved to Florida,” he says, grinning at a group of pretty girls walking by.

Damn. “I liked her.”

“So what’s it like being back on the ground?” Enzo asks as we pass through the crowd.

A lot of people ask me this, and I never really know what to say. But Enzo and I have always had a no-bullshit relationship.

“Weird,” I confess. I scan the crowd feeling oddly like I did a few years ago, when I knew Noelle wouldn’t be there but I looked anyway.

I glance at Enzo, who’s looking at me expectantly. He doesn’t seem like he would be, but I’ve always found him to be a good listener.

I shrug. “For the first few weeks my body was all messed up. But after that it was mostly my head. I had to decide whether I was going to stay working for the space agency or move on to other things.”

“You’re going to go back up, right?”

“No.” The answer comes out so easily. “I went up. I saw what I wanted to, but the life I want to live now is down here.”With Noelle.

A brown haired woman passes and I do a double take. It’s not her. It’s funny how it doesn’t matter how far away Noelle is now—she feels close because we’re breathing the same air; treading the same earth.

Enzo lifts an eyebrow. “What’s the life you want to live now?”

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