Page 52 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

They drop me off at my house afterward and I freshen up while everyone sets up for the party in my back yard.

I’m under strict orders to stay upstairs until I’m summoned to come down.

Whatever Dustin’s up to, it’s obviously somewhat big.

Not just baking me a cake—which feels big enough considering what it means he had to go through to learn how to actually bake something.

The sound of the front door opening and shutting and people talking filters up the stairs and I’m so tempted to look out my window or just go downstairs, but I know how important surprising me is to Dustin, so I stay put. I try to read, but my mind won’t focus.

Finally, it’s almost five and Syd comes upstairs.

“We’re ready for the birthday girl,” she says.

“You know all the secrets, don’t you?”

“I do!” She’s giddy.

“Should I be nervous?”

“You should be so happy.”

“I am.”

Syd steps closer and we hug.

“That’s all that matters today,” she says softly.

We’re oddly stronger after having gone through her keeping the secret about Evan from me. I see why she did it. But more than that, we’ve worked at rebuilding trust. When a friendship is as solid as ours, you can’t let one mistake and error in judgment ruin all that’s precious between you.

She lets out a little squeal as we’re making our way down my stairs.

“What is so exciting?” I ask.

“Nothing. Everything! Gah! I just love Dustin. He’s literally the best for you.”

“He is,” I agree.

When we walk out my back door into the yard, I look around at all my friends, Dustin’s family, the crew from the fire station.

Dustin sees me and starts striding across the lawn toward me.

My eyes are on him. But then there’s a movement by my garden shed.

I glance away from Dustin and my hand flies up to cover my gaping mouth.

“Mom? Dad?”

Tears fill my eyes.

My parents are walking across my back yard. They’re here. For my birthday.

Of course, they’ve called every year. They call on holidays.

I call them occasionally. Not as often as I should.

Since Dustin and I have been dating, I call them more often.

He encouraged me to do that and has been pushing me to plan a trip to Europe where, in his words, we can tour all the great bakeries of France and Belgium together. We will. One day.

But I didn’t have to go to Europe. Because they came here.

I know what this cost them. Not in money, but in time and devotion to their business.

They are running a bed and breakfast. That’s a seven-day-a-week job.

And they’re the innkeepers. Like the bakery, a job in that kind of hospitality requires the owner to be present most days.

Yet, here they are.

My mom breaks into a run, heading straight for me. I run to her and we fall into one another’s arms.

“Mom. You’re here.”

“Sweetheart. Oh, Emberleigh.” She runs her hand down my hair like she used to do when I was little. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” I admit. “Every day.”

“We should have come home sooner.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.”

Dad walks up, patiently waiting his turn. Mom releases me and I wrap my arms around my dad, inhaling because he smells the way I remember. Just like home.

The thing about grief is that it’s slippery. And yet it can firm up and become like a pile of stones in your heart. And without knowing it, somewhere deep inside, you start to build a wall to keep anything or anyone else from hurting you the way you hurt before.

When my parents left, grief slid in. And even though I processed some of it, I stockpiled a whole bunch more. A new belief took hold. “People leave.” Those two simple words started to reorganize how I lived.

Dating Drew wasn’t bad. If it was, I would have left him.

His family didn’t like me, but he was good to me.

We had fun together. Looking back, I know now that I wanted everything with him just so I could fill the void my parents left.

I gave Drew a full-access pass into my heart.

When Drew left, everything crumbled. My grief multiplied and I added more stones to my wall.

A new motto took over my life: No one will hurt me like this again.

But sweet Dustin came loping in like a stray puppy, wagging his adorable tail and licking my face—not literally, thankfully.

He wiggled his way behind my carefully constructed wall with all his smiles and persistence and the way he openly supported me and showed up in every way imaginable.

He helped me disassemble the wall, one stone at a time.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I tell my parents.

Then I look at Dustin. He’s made his way over to me.

“You flew my parents here?”

“They flew themselves. I just nudged them by giving them the party invite.”

I throw my arms around Dustin. “Thank you!”

“Anything for you, Firecracker,” he whispers into my hair.

I pull back and look at my parents. Dustin tucks his arm behind me in the same show of support he’s been giving me since before we made our relationship official.

“Mom, Dad, this is Dustin.”

“We’ve met,” Mom says. “When he picked us up at the airport.”

“You …?” I look at Dustin.

“I just drove an hour to get them. No biggie.”

No biggie. This man.

My parents watch Dustin and me interact. My heart is so full having the three of them together. The party kicks up with food, music and everyone mingling.

Dustin and Syd and our friends set up tables inside the house for dinner since we’ve heard it might snow tonight.

After dinner, everyone gathers in my front room. Dustin pulls out his guitar.

“I’ve got a song I want to sing to Emberleigh. Most of you know it by heart. It’s called Happy Birthday to You .”

Our friends and family laugh and Dustin strums a chord.

Then he looks down into my eyes and sings straight to me.

Everyone joins in, and as much as I love the group of people in this room, I have a hard time forcing myself to glance around at each one of them instead of staring up at the man who won my heart and changed my life.

After the song, Dustin runs into the kitchen and returns with a cake. “It’s a bit lopsided, but I promise it tastes better than it looks.” He lowers his voice and says, “I hope.”

“I give that a five for execution of concept,” Stevens jokes from his spot on the sofa.

“But a seven for thematic cohesion,” Cody says.

Our friends and family laugh.

“I give it a ten,” I say, looking up at Dustin.

“Make a wish,” he says softly, as if he’s only talking to me.

I don’t need to. Everything I wish for is right here in this room.

I have the best friends and a man who sweeps me off my feet—literally, that’s even how we met.

And I have a community I adore. But I make a wish anyway—just one wish for my future.

It might not be now. But one day. One day I hope that Dustin and I are married, living under the same roof, raising children together, chasing fireflies with them in the back yard while our dog named Toad runs around us barking.

That’s my wish.

Dustin hands the cake over to his mom. I think we’re going to scatter while the cake is cut.

But he picks up his guitar.

“There’s just one more thing, Emberleigh. I wrote you a song.”

“You already wrote me two,” I protest.

“Well, what can I say? You inspire me.”

“Awww,” Syd and Mitzi say in unison.

Dustin pulls up the guitar and strums and then he sings this song:

We’ve had our nights of silence,

Doors closed, hearts caught in the gap.

We’ve walked the edge of leaving,

We were bruised, but never cracked.

Through all the storms and weather,

You stayed, and I stayed too ? —

Now every scar we carry

Feels like a promise I made to you.

'Cause stayin’s easy now, Firecracker,

When I look at you and see

All the fire we walked through

Built the home you made in me.

There ain’t a doubt left in my soul,

I’m yours, come sun or rain.

If love’s a road, then take my hand ? —

Let’s never turn again.

We’ve been the talk of small-town stories,

They whispered, “Is it true?”

But they don’t know the quiet glory

Of giving my whole heart to you.

You taught me how to soften,

And filled my empty life.

Now I don’t want a single day …

Dustin pauses, sets down his guitar, and he stoops down.

I’m confused. He starts to lower himself and I watch him, my brain not catching up until he’s in front of me on one bent knee.

He pulls a small satin bag out of his pocket, tips it over carefully and gives it a shake.

A platinum gold band with a diamond falls into his palm.

He looks up into my eyes and half-sings, half-speaks the final line, “Without you as my wife.”

I’m in tears. My smile pulls at my cheeks.

I’m already saying, “Yes!” when he says, “Emberleigh, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Dustin! Yes!”

He slips the ring on my finger, staring into my eyes with a look I’ll remember until my dying day. Then he stands up and kisses me.

He grabs my hand and turns so we’re side by side.

“She said yes!” Dustin holds up our enjoined hands as if we just won a contest.

Everyone in the room cheers.

People gather around us to look at the ring and say congratulations.

My parents give us both hugs.

Gran waits for a break in the crowd. Then she walks over to us. “Now, I know you’ll be needin’ a maid of honor. I’m just gonna say it here and now. You don’t have to ask me. I’m glad to be a bridesmaid. I’ll let Sydney have my spot.”

Dustin chuckles. “That’s thoughtful of you, Gran.”

He started calling her Gran a few months ago after she wouldn’t stop insisting he did.

Mom takes the cake into the kitchen and slices it. People mingle with their dessert plates in hand.

Dustin pulls me aside and says, “You made me the happiest man in the world tonight, Emberleigh.”

“I’m glad I could return the favor,” I tell him. curling my fingers into his.

Outside the windows, soft snow begins to fall, dusting the world in white—like a blank slate. A fresh beginning. Just like the one we’ve found in each other.