Page 57 of Home Town Advantage
I wakein the morning and don’t see Vance in our makeshift bed. Turning, I see him by the window. I quietly stand and make my way toward him. I stand beside my forever crush as we both take in the beauty of the snowfall. It’s white as far as the eyes can see. Every item. Every tree. They’re all covered by several feet of undisturbed snow.
“It finally stopped,” I quietly announce.
He nods. “Minutes ago. I’ve never seen so much snow in my life. I checked everywhere in and around the cabin. There’s nothing resembling a shovel. We’re going to have to wait until plow trucks can make their way up here.”
“I…umm…guess we have at least another day and night in paradise.”
He nods. “That would be my guess too.”
I notice him staring at a big clearing in the woods. It used to be full of dozens of huge, beautiful oak trees.
“I sold them,” I admit. “Last year. I had a big tax assessment on this place. A developer came in and offered me way above market price for the oak trees, so I sold them to him to pay off the taxes.”
“They were great trees.”
“They were,” I agree. It doesn’t need to be spoken for us bothto be thinking that the tree closest to the house, the biggest and best, was where Finn and Vance carved their names as the builders of this cabin.McShea Brothers. That’s what they called themselves. I happily included that tree with the others I sold.
After more makeshift teeth brushing and a little granola bar breakfast, we decide to play hangman. There are only so many games you can play with two people and nothing but a few crinkled receipts and a pen from my bag.
With pen and paper in hand and his legs crossed facing me, Vance says, “It’s something he always said to me when we were building this place.”
I lean my elbows on my knees and narrow my eyes at him. “How would I know what he said to you? I wasn’t here most of the time.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s a known phrase. You definitely heard him say it. Just guess the damn letters. That’s how this game goes.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
“R.”
“There’s one R.”
“Q.”
“Who guesses Q at the beginning of a hangman game? No Q.”
I stare at him, trying to get into his mind. “T.”
“Two T’s.”
After guessing E, M, P, N, L, B, S,and C, I have a pretty good idea what it is.
He’s right. It’s something Finn always said when working on the cabin, my treehouse, and all the other little projects he had going on. I smile in satisfaction. “I know it.Measure Twice. Cut Once.”
His ridiculously handsome face lights up. “You got it, smarty pants.”
He goes about filling in the rest of the letters and hands the paper to me while he stands and goes to put water on the stove to make more hot chocolate.
I happily stare at the phrase, letting memories flood me until one letter catches my eye. The O. It has a distinct swivel at the top. One I know I’ve seen before. I rack my brain as I tryto remember the last time I would have seen Vance’s handwriting. He did send cards every year on the anniversary of Finn’s death, but he always signed his name only. There’s no O in his name. Maybe the Chocolate Cosmo cards? Nope. Those messages were always printed by the florist. Why is that O so freaking familiar?
A thought occurs to me, but it can’t be right. That wouldn’t make any sense.
I reach for my bag and pull out my wallet. Folded in there, as always, is the letter Finn had his military friend deliver to me months after his death. The one that got me motivated to re-enroll in college and play ball again.
I study it carefully, line by line, until I find what I’m looking for. An uppercase O. It has the same exact swivel.
My eyes widen in realization.
He turns around with a smile, holding the can of hot chocolate mix. “Two or three scoops of chocolate this time?”
