Page 19 of Eager Beaver
“Aren’t you going to take a picture of your food?” she asked, a little exasperated. “For your blog. And if you want my recipes, you could add those for your followers. I’ve already printed out copies for you to take with you.”
“Mom, I only have 17 followers.”
“So? Don’t you think they might be curious to see what you’re eating? Whether it’s a thousand followers or just one, there is still value in what you do.”
My insides felt all warm and gooey. I had no idea she felt that way about my blog. She sounded almost…proudof me.
Guy nudged me with his elbow, offering me a private smile. “Take the picture. Besides, you have 18 followers now.” And then he winked at me, and my heart absolutely melted.
“You followed me?” I gasped, clutching my chest, where my heart was beating with a rhythm that felt a lot likelove, love, love.
“Of course I did. I can’t wait to see what kinds of recipes you come up with for maple syrup.”
“Oh yes, me too!” my mother chimed in. Instead of bringing the customary bottle of wine to dinner, Guy had brought a bottle of syrup—obviously.
In this moment, I felt… whole. And while I knew that my family had never meant to add pressure on me to bemorethan I was—more successful in my career, richer, smarter, luckier in love—I’d just always felt a bit like a disappointment. With Guy by my side, I felt more confident, more settled than I ever had before. But I was still the same me, really, and I realized thatmaybe that pressure had never come from my family at all. Maybe it had come from me.
I took Guy’s hand under the table and laced our fingers together, giving them a squeeze. Guy smiled at me and squeezed back. I would cling to this feeling for as long as I could.
But first, I had some foodie pictures to take!
Istareddownatmy phone where the Uber’s approaching dot showed they were only a couple minutes away. My throat tightened until my breath was nearly a wheeze, the threat of tears making my eyes sting. It was time to go home.
Part of me regretted wasting some of what little time we had on dinner with my family, but… it had also been kind of amazing. My family was loud and brash, full of strong opinions, and meals with everyone were always a special form of chaos, and yet Guy had fit in like he’d been born there.
Except he hadn’t been, thank gods, because that would’ve made him a blood relative, and after everything we’d done together—ew. No.
Guy stood forever warm at my side, and I leaned into him, burying my face in his chest. He brought his arms around me, holding me close. “Hey, I know it’s still a few days until Christmas, but I got something for you.”
I pulled back and peeked up at him, feeling raw and vulnerable. “You did?” I asked in a tiny voice.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little package, wrapped in one of the lodge’s cloth napkins. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to open it now.”
“Of course I’m going to open it now! Is it a puppy?” I teased, before peeling back the napkin to uncover a small brown bag, tied with a satin ribbon, and inside the bag… I gasped. “Guy! Is this what I think it is?”
Even beneath his beard I could see his blush as he shrugged, self-conscious. “That depends on what you think it is. It’s not a puppy.”
I laughed. “It’s a nutmeg grater!” Sure enough, besides the narrow grater, there was also a bag of whole nutmeg.
“I just thought, um… nutmeg goes really well with syrup, so maybe if you’re baking…”
I threw my arms around him, and he immediately caught me. “It’s perfect,” I gushed. Pulling back slowly, I admitted, “I got something for you too, but I’ve changed my mind. It’s stupid.”
“I promise it’s not,” he said, tugging on a lock of hair that had escaped the beanie.
Staring down at my shoes, I mumbled, “I didn’t even wrap it.” Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out his gift.
Guy stared down at the gift in my hand, his face slack. Did he hate it? I couldn’t tell. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Finally, he choked out a few words in a voice that sounded strangely tight, even a little emotional. “It’s a beaver.”
“I know it’s dumb. I just saw it at the lodge gift shop, and for some reason, it made me think of you.”
He swooped down and picked me up, squeezing me so tight that the breath left my lungs for a second. “It’s not dumb,” he whispered by my ear, and when he put me down, his eyes were glassy. He took the little stuffed beaver from me and rubbed his thumb along its velvety tail. “I will love it forever.”
This man was so much more than met the eye. He was warm and kind, thoughtful, funny… and even though I’d said this would be a fling, tell that to my heart. The pull I felt was more intense than any connection I’d ever had.
I had this incredible urge to stay here with him, even though I knew he was getting on his own plane later tonight and heading to an entirely different country. We had no choice but to say goodbye, but maybe it didn’t have to be forever. I would die with regret for not shooting my shot, so I cleared my throat and went for it.
“So, uh, maybe, would you want to trade phone numbers?” I asked.
