Page 38 of My Ex, the Pumpkin King

Once we’re back in the car, I take a deep breath. Because here goes the biggest part of my plan. And now I just have to hope the pieces fall where they’re meant to.

SIXTEEN

“So, is our date already over?” As we pull into Sorrell Farms, I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed. I mean, he did ask me for dinner, but then he had that spiel about having a plan to stick to.

“What? No. There’s more.” He cuts the ignition. “Come on.”

He hops out and I follow suit, jumping as the door shuts behind me. It’s dark out and I have been known to be a bit of a chicken despite my favorite holiday being Halloween. The farm is deserted, and I wonder how they did tonight. I hated taking the evening off so close to the end of the season, but Mamaw and Papaw were adamant I go on the date and said they’d be just fine.

“We’re riding the ATV?” I wrinkle my nose as Jack hops on it, and he laughs. “Do you want to walk to the corn maze in those?”

“Well.” I glance down at my heels. “No, I do not.” I climb on behind him, my dress riding up a little bit, and wrap my arms around his waist. “Maybe we should have changed first.”

“No, no. You’re not taking that dress off until I take it off you,” he declares, and then we’re off, rumbling over the hills and grass until we reach the cornstalks. I gasp as we come to a stop. There are jack-o’-lanterns lined up at the entrance, illuminating the stalks, and it’s creepy and beautiful all at once.

Someone had to help Jack out with this a lot. And I have a feeling my grandparents played a big part in this.

“We’re going to find all the flags!” Jack exclaims as he helps me down.

“Jack, I know where all the flags are. We’ve done this maze ten million times this year.”

“See, so it should be easy.” He takes my hand and we enter the maze. There are more jack-o’-lanterns lighting the way, so we’d have to really try to fail this time. I’m thankful that the candles are battery operated and not real. Jack doesn’t havestarting a fireon his agenda tonight, I’m sure.

“All six flags?” I quirk an eyebrow at him, wondering if this is a trick.

“Yes, all six. It’s very important.” He’s like a kid at a damn candy store, practically bouncing down the path. He wouldn’t be so happy if he had heels on, that’s for sure.

I follow the lights to where the first flag is. I could do this in my sleep at this point. But to my surprise, instead of a flag stuck to the stalk, there’s a picture of us in front of our school bus. I’m not sure exactly how old we were, but I had braces so I’m thinking seventh grade.

“Oh my god.” I trace my fingers over the picture. “We were so young.”

“Take it with you,” Jack encourages me, so I pull it loose, bending the tape over so it sticks to the back of the photograph.

“This represents our beginning, where our friendship was planted before it grew into anything else. We were best friends.”

Now my curiosity is piqued, and I’m excited to get to flag number two. We turn to the left, and there’s a picture of a red light. My fingers tremble as I reach for it.

“This is the red light where we had our first kiss, after I admitted my feelings had blossomed into more.”

I glance at Jack and he’s beaming at me, his happiness contagious. But I’m also getting emotional because this is so sweet and thoughtful.

Flag number three is a picture of my corsage, my hand on his shoulder in one of our prom photos.

“This is from our Senior Prom—the first night we belonged completely to each other.”

I’m walking as fast as I can now to flag number four, which is a picture of a wineglass.

“This stands for two things,” Jack explains. “Our date at The Lantern where we drank a whole bottle of wine while we finally talked about things, and the night you spilled wine in the bathtub, when we decided we wanted to try this again.”

Tears fill my eyes as I nod without a word, gripping the pictures and heading toward flag number five: a picture of the jack-o’-lanterns we carved this year.

“This represents how we carved out our past, dealing with the debris and making something beautiful out of what was left.”

A sob catches in my throat, and I cover my mouth as he hands me the picture. And then we make our way to the last flag… but there’s nothing there.

I turn his way, confused, but then he reaches into his pocket and brandishes a key.

“This is the key to my childhood home. I bought it the first day I came back here, when I had lunch with you and your family.” He presses it into my hand. “I’m moving in there, and I want this to be your key. So you know you always have a place in my home, and in my heart. And one day, whenever you’re ready—no rush, though—it can be our home. If you want,” he adds, his voice faltering a bit.

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