Page 20

When Luna arrived home that evening, the lights were still on, which was surprising, since her grandmother generally went to bed early unless she was playing bridge. She carefully closed the door behind her and on tiptoes made her way to the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible.

She made it all the way to the first stair before her grandmother’s voice rang out.

“Luna? Is that you?”

She sighed. “No. It’s a burglar.”

There was a moment of frozen silence, during which her grandmother presumably decided to ignore Luna’s bad joke. Then, “would you come into the drawing room, please?”

With another sigh, this one bigger and louder, Luna kicked off her shoes and went into the drawing room. The windows were open, a pleasant breeze flowing through the room. Her grandmother was sitting in an armchair, a small table by her side with a decanter and glasses on it.

With a steely eye, her grandmother looked Luna up and down, frowning at the shortness of her shorts, then nodded at the chair opposite her. “Take a seat.”

Unsure of what was coming, Luna did as she was told. The drawing room was still and quiet, save for the ticking of an antique clock on the wall.

“Drink?”

Surprised, Luna nodded. Her grandmother busied herself with the decanter and then handed Luna a glass with a measure of sweet-smelling sherry in it. Beggars can’t be choosers, she figured, as she took a small sip.

Her grandmother watched her with an expression that Luna couldn’t quite decipher. Evelyn Truman rarely showed any warmth, and now was no exception, but there was something softer about her voice when she finally spoke.

“I hear the town’s still abuzz about that little show you put on at the festival last night,”

Evelyn began, taking the tiniest sip of sherry. “You and that… young woman.”

Luna’s stomach tightened, and she braced herself for the judgment that she knew was coming. “It wasn’t my intention to cause a scene,”

she said, trying to keep her tone neutral and not succeeding terribly well.

Evelyn tilted her head, studying her. “Mmm. I’m not entirely sure I believe that. You enjoy making scenes, Luna. It’s one of your… less desirable qualities. But perhaps things have changed.”

“Changed?”

Luna said. She realized now that she had no idea at all of where this conversation was heading.

Her grandmother put down her glass. “You’ve spent your whole life drifting, never staying in one place long enough to put down roots. And now, I see that you’re… settling down?”

Luna blinked. “Settling down?”

she echoed. She was in danger of turning into a parrot.

Her grandmother picked her glass up again and took another minuscule sip. “I’m not blind, Luna, nor am I stupid. The inheritance requirements are supposed to teach you about responsibility. But responsibility is more than just… getting a job, it's more than just showing up. It’s about commitment, commitment to people, to a life.”

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing, one eyebrow arched. “Could it be that you’re finally starting to… grow up?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, and Luna couldn’t tell if they were meant as a compliment or a challenge. Either way, they struck a nerve.

For so long, she’d prided herself on being untethered, on her freedom. Yet here she was, for the first time, wondering if her grandmother’s version of stability, of life, might be more fulfilling than whatever it was she’d been chasing around the world.

If perhaps she needed someone. And if, just perhaps, that someone might be worth settling down for.

Her grandmother sipped again. “You might think I’m an old crone, but I was young once, Luna. I’ve lived a life you have no idea about. And I’ll tell you something now. People like that young woman don’t come around often. Not that I’ve met her.”

There was a steel glance there. “But I’ve heard. And if you care about her, then perhaps it’s time to start proving it. Not to me, but to yourself.”

By the time Luna went upstairs to bed, she was feeling lighter and heavier, both together. Her grandmother’s words replayed in her mind.

Was she ready to be more than a wanderer? Was she ready to be someone that Mia could count on? Because that was what Mia needed, she knew that instinctively. Was she ready to become the kind of person that Mia needed?

And for the first time, she really considered staying. Not just for her grandmother’s approval, not just for the money, but for herself.

And for Mia.

***

Mia sat cross-legged on the bed in her hotel room, looking down at her hand.

Even in the dim light, the ring still sparkled, looking bright and new and shiny, though she’d been wearing it for more than a year at this point. It did, she thought as she considered it, look slightly lonely. There was, after all, supposed to be a companion ring that slid right on top of it.

A ring that she’d never shown up to claim.

But the one she was wearing symbolized so much. It meant bridesmaid’s dresses and cake tasting, plate settings and invitation card stock, dress fittings and menu finalizing. And all of those things, as much time as they’d taken out of her life, felt like remnants of someone else’s life now. Plans for a future that wasn’t hers, wasn’t meant to be hers. Plans for a future that she didn’t want.

The kiss with Luna played in a constant loop at the back of her mind. Not just the kiss, but the feelings. How it had made her feel alive and untamed and free. How she’d thought for just a second there that she could break away from the expectations that had always defined her. How in that moment, she’d felt herself. Really herself.

Her eyes went back to the ring, its polished brilliance gleaming as a symbol of the perfect life she’d so nearly had. It was a relic now. She could see that. Slowly, carefully, she slid it off her finger and, looking around, placed it in the drawer of her nightstand.

It was a small gesture, but it felt enormous.

Just closing the drawer on it, she felt a wave of relief washing over her. She didn’t need the ring, and she didn’t need that life. She needed something real, something less than perfect, but something happy. Something new.

And maybe that something was Luna.

***

The next morning, in the flower shop, Luna moved through her tasks with uncharacteristic care. She trimmed stems and arranged bouquets, and smiled at customers, her mind far from the flowers in front of her.

Her grandmother’s words still ran through her head, all tangled up with the memories of Mia. Of her lips, her smell, her warmth.

Without thinking, she reached out and pulled a single white daisy from the bouquet she’d been working on. Daisies symbolized new beginnings, Jan had told her. She turned it over in her hands, wondering what it would be like to stop running. What it would be like to have a place, a person. What it would be like to build something more meaningful than a bouquet that only lasted days?

She held the daisy up to the light for a minute, then tucked it safely into her shirt pocket, the decision not made yet, but taking root.

It was time to stop avoiding what she really wanted.

LATE IN THE evening, Luna finally locked up the flower shop. With the festival still going on, Jan had wanted to stay open far later than usual, and now the moon was hanging low and bright in the sky, though the streets were still thronged with tourists and festival-goers.

But when she turned, the crowds cleared, and she saw Mia standing there, spotlit by the moon, wearing a plain sundress, her hair loose on her shoulders. And Luna’s heart just about stopped beating at the beauty of her.

When their eyes met, it all seemed inevitable.

“Hey,”

she said, voice soft but steady.

“Hey,”

said Mia, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Walk?”

offer Luna.

Mia nodded and Luna hesitated for only a second before she took Mia’s hand and began to lead her away from the main street and out toward the hiking trail.

“I…”

Mia started, when they were away from other people. She stumbled, took a breath, then began again. “I’ve been thinking a lot since the festival.”

Luna let them walk a few meters further. “Me too,”

she admitted eventually. She stopped, looking up at the moon, and then back at Mia, unsure of how to say what she wanted to say. Then the words came blurting out. “You make me want to be more. Someone who stays. Someone who cares. Someone you can count on.”

She heard Mia’s voice catch in her throat. Had she said the wrong thing? Was this all too fast?

Mia’s hand reached out and cupped Luna’s cheek, Luna’s heart started to beat even harder. “You don’t have to change, you know, Luna. You’re already enough. More than enough.”

And Luna couldn’t look into those deep blue eyes anymore, it felt like she was drowning. She tore her gaze away and reached into her pocket, pulling out the daisy and then tucking it behind Mia’s ear.

She said nothing, but she didn’t have to.

The distance between them disappeared as Mia leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but then deepened with unspoken promise. The world faded around them, leaving just the two of them and the moon.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless and smiling, sure of what was to come. Luna reached for Mia’s hand again, twining their fingers together. “Come,” she said.

Mia’s lips twitched into a smile. “Anywhere.”

And Luna began to lead her down the trail to the little clearing with a brook, the night air heavy and hot around them.