Page 15 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell (Wisteria Cove #1)
“Is that so?” I grin, ruffling her curls as I pass.
“Absolutely,” Remy confirms. “And tonight’s movie was Junie’s pick, so…prepare yourself.”
I glance at the TV, already queued up. Pirates of the Caribbean . I can’t help but laugh. “Good choice, kiddo.”
“Captain Jack Sparrow is a legend,” Junie says with a dramatic flourish. “I'm going to marry him someday. And guess what? I'm making a sparkle pirate map.”
Finn laughs. “You’re five!”
“Almost six,” she corrects without missing a beat. “And I’ve been drinking coffee with my Nana since I was three. I am grown.”
I laugh. This kid is hilarious.
The night unfolds easily and with warmth.
Remy's house feels like a home. Something I've dreamed of having someday. A place to make memories and to make other people feel welcome and safe. Remy’s pizza is really good.
He's come a long way from the bachelor I used to know him as before he became a husband and a dad.
Golden crispy crust with generous heaps of cheese and pepperoni.
We lounge around, root beer floats in hand, plates balancing on our laps, and the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room.
Junie wedges herself between her dad and me, chattering nonstop through the first half of the movie, sharing fun facts about pirates, asking questions about sword fighting, and offering commentary on costumes and scenery. She’s endlessly curious and funny.
I find myself relaxing in a way I haven’t in a long time. Here, in this house where laughter comes easy, where family feels natural and welcoming, everything else seems to slip away. The ache from this morning’s call with my mom is still there, but it’s dulled.
Halfway through the movie, Junie snuggles into her dad and lays her head on his arm.
“Want me to help you find your treasure on your boat?” she asks sweetly.
“Sure, we could do that sometime if your dad says it’s okay,” I say.
Remy catches my eye with a soft smile. “She’s a relentless negotiator,” he says quietly.
By the time Jack Sparrow is making his final escape, Junie’s fighting sleep, her head drooping. She blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering, before finally curling into him completely.
Remy brushes a stray curl off her forehead, tenderness in every motion. “Movie night champion couldn't hang,” he whispers, standing carefully and scooping her up with ease.
“Be right back,” he says, carrying her upstairs, her small arms slipping around his neck in sleepy trust. I haven't been around many little kids. But this one makes me wonder if I could have a kid myself someday.I wonder what it would be like to have a family. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, but I had plenty of friends.
The house quiets when he disappears down the hallway. Finn gathers plates, shooting me a grin. “Thanks for coming tonight, Tate. It’s good to have you back.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly, and I mean it. “Thanks.”
When Remy comes back, he drops onto the couch beside me, rubbing the back of his neck.“You okay, Tate?” he asks gently, leaning forward to grab what’s left of his float.
I hesitate, then shrug. “Rough day,” I admit. “My mom called this morning. She’s selling the house and the boat.”
Remy’s smile fades, replaced by something quieter. He nods, thoughtful. “I’m sorry, man. That’s shitty.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Feels like everything I’m trying to build just keeps slipping away, you know?”
“I know,” Remy says, leaning back, elbows on his knees. “But you’ve got options, even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.”
He’s quiet for a beat before glancing at me. “You know…I’ve actually been looking to hire a manager at the tree farm,” he says, almost casually. “Would that be something you’d even consider?”
I blink. “The tree farm?”
“Yeah,” Remy says with a small smile. “It’s a lot of outdoor hard work, which you’re no stranger to. I think you’d like it. And honestly? I wouldn’t mind having someone I trust running things with me.”
That word: trust. It catches in my chest.
People trusting me…excited that I’m staying here. That’s something I didn’t realize I was starving for until this moment.
“Really?” I ask, almost afraid to hope.
“Really,” he says firmly. “You’re solid, Tate. Always have been. And if you need somewhere to stay, you know you could take one of the cabins on the back property. They’re small but cozy. No pressure, but the offer’s there.”
I stare at him for a second, overwhelmed but grateful. This is the lifeline I didn’t expect tonight.
“You don’t have to figure everything out all at once,” Remy adds, softer now. “But I’d be glad to have you at the nursery. You’re good with your hands, and patient. You’d fit right in.”
Something loosens in my chest, something tight and tired. For the first time in days, I allowed myself to believe that maybe there’s a future for me here that isn’t tied to my dad’s old boat or a house my mom doesn’t care about.
“Thanks, Remy,” I say sincerely. “That means more than you know.”
“You’re family, Tate,” Remy says. “Always have been.”
When I finally leave, it’s late and cool and still. The wind carries the scent of pine and wood smoke, and Main Street is quiet but bathed in a warm glow from the old-fashioned streetlamps.
I walk slowly, letting my boots scuff the worn sidewalks and looking into the darkened windows of the little shops I’ve known my whole life as I go. Wisteria Books & Brews. The harbor just at the edge of town, with boats rocking gently under the moonlight.
But tonight, for the first time, I don’t feel entirely shut out.Maybe I’m not meant to follow in my father’s footsteps after all. And maybe this town still has a place for me. And it doesn’t have to be who he is. It’s who I am.
That thought warms me all the way home.