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"And then?" he prompts when I trail off.
"And then we figure out the rest together. Day by day." I look up at him again. "I'm not in a hurry to leave Cedar Falls."
His answering smile is like the sun breaking through clouds. "Good," he says simply. "Because I'm not in a hurry for you to go."
As he leans down to kiss me, I feel a sense of rightness wash over me. Whatever brought me to Cedar Falls—fate, coincidence, or my father's unfinished business—I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
Epilogue – Riley
Three Years Later
The September sun filters through the pines, casting dappled shadows across the yard where I'm hanging the last of the blue balloons. The cabin looks different than it did three years ago—flower boxes beneath the windows, a swing set in the clearing, and toys scattered across the porch. Signs of a life I never thought I'd have.
"Is everything set up?" Lucy calls from the doorway, our son propped on her hip.
James William Carter, named for her father and my uncle, squirms in her arms, eager to be put down so he can toddle about on sturdy legs. At two years old, he's already showing a Carter's height and a Mitchell's curiosity—a perfect blend of our once-feuding bloodlines.
"Just a few balloons left," I answer, tying off the last string. "Cake ready?"
"Mmhmm. Edith just called. She's bringing extra ice cream and—" Lucy stops mid-sentence, her head tilting. "Is that a car?"
I hear it too—the crunch of tires on gravel, the familiar rumble of a diesel engine. My chest tightens with a mix of anxiety and hope, the same feeling I get every time, even after all these months.
"It's them," I say, checking my watch. "Right on time."
Lucy smiles, bouncing James on her hip.
"Go on. We've got this." She presses a quick kiss to my cheek as I pass, her brown eyes full of understanding. "Breathe, Riley."
I nod, trying to follow her advice as I walk down the path to meet the arriving vehicle. The black pickup pulls to a stop, and for a moment, no one gets out. Then the driver's door opens, and my brother steps onto the gravel.
Josh Carter looks more like our father than I do—same build, same dark hair and eyes. But unlike our father, there's no hardness in his face, no bitterness in his stance. At forty, he's finally found peace, just as I have.
"Riley," he says with a nod.
"Josh," I return, the old awkwardness lingering like a ghost between us.
Then his wife emerges from the passenger side, their two children scrambling out after her.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Elisa says, rolling her eyes at our formal greeting. "It's your nephew's birthday, not a business meeting. Hug your brother, Josh."
Josh's serious expression cracks, and he steps forward to embrace me. It's still not entirely natural, still holds a hint of stiffness, but it's real. After almost twenty years of estrangement, we're family again.
I owe that miracle entirely to Elisa.
When Josh met her, something changed in him. The angry, wounded man who refused to speak to me began to soften. Elisa, a single mom with infinite patience and a no-nonsense attitude, slowly convinced him that holding onto old grievances was poisoning his life.
It took time—nearly a year of small steps. Coffee at Lou's Diner with Elisa as a buffer. Awkward dinners where we struggled to find common ground.
Even now, we will never be as close as we might have been if our lives had taken different paths. Too much time has passed, too many scars have formed. But we're brothers again, and for that, I will be eternally grateful to Elisa.
"Uncle Riley!" My young nephew Mason barrels into me for a hug. His sister Sophie, three and more reserved, hangs back until I extend a hand for a high-five.
"There's my birthday boy!" Elisa exclaims, spotting Lucy and James approaching from the cabin. She hurries forward to coo over my son, leaving Josh and me momentarily alone.
"Good turnout?" he asks, nodding toward the cars already parked along the drive—Lou's sedan and his nephew’s new sports car, Mrs. Peterson's ancient station wagon.
"Seems like half the town's coming," I confirm. "Lucy's popular."
"And then we figure out the rest together. Day by day." I look up at him again. "I'm not in a hurry to leave Cedar Falls."
His answering smile is like the sun breaking through clouds. "Good," he says simply. "Because I'm not in a hurry for you to go."
As he leans down to kiss me, I feel a sense of rightness wash over me. Whatever brought me to Cedar Falls—fate, coincidence, or my father's unfinished business—I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
Epilogue – Riley
Three Years Later
The September sun filters through the pines, casting dappled shadows across the yard where I'm hanging the last of the blue balloons. The cabin looks different than it did three years ago—flower boxes beneath the windows, a swing set in the clearing, and toys scattered across the porch. Signs of a life I never thought I'd have.
"Is everything set up?" Lucy calls from the doorway, our son propped on her hip.
James William Carter, named for her father and my uncle, squirms in her arms, eager to be put down so he can toddle about on sturdy legs. At two years old, he's already showing a Carter's height and a Mitchell's curiosity—a perfect blend of our once-feuding bloodlines.
"Just a few balloons left," I answer, tying off the last string. "Cake ready?"
"Mmhmm. Edith just called. She's bringing extra ice cream and—" Lucy stops mid-sentence, her head tilting. "Is that a car?"
I hear it too—the crunch of tires on gravel, the familiar rumble of a diesel engine. My chest tightens with a mix of anxiety and hope, the same feeling I get every time, even after all these months.
"It's them," I say, checking my watch. "Right on time."
Lucy smiles, bouncing James on her hip.
"Go on. We've got this." She presses a quick kiss to my cheek as I pass, her brown eyes full of understanding. "Breathe, Riley."
I nod, trying to follow her advice as I walk down the path to meet the arriving vehicle. The black pickup pulls to a stop, and for a moment, no one gets out. Then the driver's door opens, and my brother steps onto the gravel.
Josh Carter looks more like our father than I do—same build, same dark hair and eyes. But unlike our father, there's no hardness in his face, no bitterness in his stance. At forty, he's finally found peace, just as I have.
"Riley," he says with a nod.
"Josh," I return, the old awkwardness lingering like a ghost between us.
Then his wife emerges from the passenger side, their two children scrambling out after her.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Elisa says, rolling her eyes at our formal greeting. "It's your nephew's birthday, not a business meeting. Hug your brother, Josh."
Josh's serious expression cracks, and he steps forward to embrace me. It's still not entirely natural, still holds a hint of stiffness, but it's real. After almost twenty years of estrangement, we're family again.
I owe that miracle entirely to Elisa.
When Josh met her, something changed in him. The angry, wounded man who refused to speak to me began to soften. Elisa, a single mom with infinite patience and a no-nonsense attitude, slowly convinced him that holding onto old grievances was poisoning his life.
It took time—nearly a year of small steps. Coffee at Lou's Diner with Elisa as a buffer. Awkward dinners where we struggled to find common ground.
Even now, we will never be as close as we might have been if our lives had taken different paths. Too much time has passed, too many scars have formed. But we're brothers again, and for that, I will be eternally grateful to Elisa.
"Uncle Riley!" My young nephew Mason barrels into me for a hug. His sister Sophie, three and more reserved, hangs back until I extend a hand for a high-five.
"There's my birthday boy!" Elisa exclaims, spotting Lucy and James approaching from the cabin. She hurries forward to coo over my son, leaving Josh and me momentarily alone.
"Good turnout?" he asks, nodding toward the cars already parked along the drive—Lou's sedan and his nephew’s new sports car, Mrs. Peterson's ancient station wagon.
"Seems like half the town's coming," I confirm. "Lucy's popular."