Page 29 of Love and Pumpkins
We walk into the kitchen just as Chloe pulls the baking dish out of the oven. She sets it on top of the stove and puts the hot pads on the counter. Turning to us, she says, “Hungry?”
“Ravenous,” Hunter says.
“Yep,” I add.
Ray steps towards her with an empty plate. “Absolutely.”
Chloe shoos him away. “It needs to rest for a few minutes. So, how much painting remains?”
We all give her our updates. We’ll finish before dark, as we’d hoped. Hunter is driving back to Chicago tomorrowto pack and load a moving trailer. He’ll be back on Saturday so we can celebrate New Year’s Eve together and he can move in.
I’m looking forward to the new year and the chance to spend even more time with him. His company knows he’s moving, and they’re good with it; he can work remotely all the time.
He’s been coming home every weekend since we reconnected. His mother said he could move in with her, but he feels he’s too old to do that. Besides, Ray was looking for a roommate, and they found a great place to rent.
I don’t know what the new year holds, but I expect that Hunter and I will grow even closer. It just feels natural. I know it won’t always be easy; there will be challenges ahead, but I trust Hunter and I can figure it out.
Like we did with my website. That was the boost the business needed. It brought in enough sales to get the furnace fixed by November, before the temperatures dropped.
When I’m with Hunter, I feel excited and hopeful about the future. Problems are figure-out-able with him.
We are a perfect pair, like pumpkin and spice, or chocolate and peanut butter, or marshmallows and bonfires. A little sweetness with a side of heat.
My mom even commented on it when we were there for the last Sunday dinner. Hunter was teasing me about my fear of tumbling off a hayrack, and she said, “Gosh, I remember when the two of you were in kindergarten; the teacher said you were like a comedy team. Now, I know what she meant.”
“Right, Phoebe?” Chloe asks. I’m pulled out of the memory and back into the kitchen.
“Sorry, I missed that. What?”
“I said there’s a new group trip planned for St. Louis in February. I think we should all go. It’s going to be special!”
“That sounds great,” I answer. “I’m in.”
Chloe’s role with the park district is expanding. She did such a great job with the Chicago trip earlier this month that they encouraged her to do more. County residents are excited about trips to the cities on a chartered coach, with a tour guide, and fun things to do. She’s in her element bossing—I mean, leading—groups around.
I know her trip to Chicago was extra special; I was on it, and I saw what happened, but that’s her story to tell. No spoilers from me.
Chloe gives the okay, and we plate up. Before we sit down to eat, there is a knock at the door. The four of us look at each other with wide eyes.
“Expecting someone?” Ray asks Hunter.
“No. I’ll get it,” Hunter replies. “It’s probably the landlord checking up.”
We watch as he opens the door. It’s my cousins Whitney and Jackson. “We heard you might need some painting help,” Jackson says.
“Are you eating?” Whitney says, stepping through the door, pulling off a scarf. Her long, dark, curly hair is covered in snowflakes.
“It’s snowing!” I say. “We didn’t get a white Christmas, but I’ll take a white New Year’s Eve.”
“Splendid,” says Ray, coming over to shake hands. “We’ll take all the help we can get.”
“There’s enough food; help yourselves to a plate,” Chloe says, giving Whitney a hug.
The room becomes a cacophony of laughter and conversation. It’s a chaotic mess, from the paint-stained clothing to the mismatched haphazard seating arrangements to the collection of people filling the room. But it’s absolutely perfect.
Epilogue
It’s February twelfth, and everyone I know and love is on this charter bus heading home from St. Louis. My parents are here, Aunt Dana, Uncle Jim, all my cousins, and Grandma Birdie. Even Hunter’s mom and sister are here. It's like a family-reunion road trip, with thirty assorted friends and neighbors.
