the next Stanley Cup game.
Vlad had been feeling pretty good about life and the book so far, until now. “Why not?”
Mack twisted off the top of a beer. “Because there’s no conflict. She just up and decides that she’s going to stay with Tony because he asks her to? It’s not very satisfying.”
“They end up together. How is that not satisfying?”
“Because they haven’t really earned their happy ever after,” Malcolm said.
Mack pointed with his beer. “Thank you. Yes. You ever get to the end of a book where they end up together without having to overcome any significant obstacles? It sucks. You feel cheated.”
Malcolm reached for the bag of crackers, tossed one in his mouth, and immediately spit it out. “This tastes like an Amazon box.”
Vlad bristled. “They have faced a ton of obstacles. They’ve been nearly shot, and they were chased by the SS, and—”
Del shook his head. “Those are external problems, man. External obstacles. You have to make them face their internal fears before they can truly have a happy ending.” He reached for the crackers. “Let me try one.”
“It’s your taste buds,” Malcolm warned.
Del took a bite and spit it out. “I’d rather shit my pants.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Vlad snapped. “It is not funny when it is your pants you are shitting.”
“It’s not like I’d shit someone else’s pants.”
Noah kicked his feet up on a leather ottoman in front of his chair. “I know I’m the newest member of the group and all and I still don’t know much, but I concur with everyone else. I want to see Tony and Anna have to dig deep one last time.”
“Not every book has to have some big, dramatic all is lost moment,” Vlad pouted.
Gavin piped in. “But every book needs a last push to the end that forces a character to have a final epiphany that helps themselves see clearly for the first time.”
Vlad crossed his arms and scowled. “So you’re saying she shouldn’t stay with Tony? She should leave him and go find Jack?”
“She has to go look for Jack,” Malcolm said. “Otherwise, has she really chosen Tony? How will he know that she really chose him?”
“Why the hell does that matter?” And why the hell was he taking it so personally?
“It matters because Jack is the one thing still standing in their way emotionally,” Malcolm said. “He’s everything Tony fears he lacks as a man, and he’s the past that Anna can’t forget. Until they deal with those issues, it’s a cheap way to end the book.”
“Did you read the scene?” Vlad argued. “He just told her he loves her. You guys have been riding my magnificent ass to get Tony to advance the relationship. It’s the one thing he has feared more than anything else. How is that not digging deep?”
“You said that telling her how he felt about her was his greatest fear,” Malcolm said. “But is that really it? Is that what truly scares him?”
“Yes.”
“What if she’d left anyway?”
Vlad scowled as he pondered Malcolm’s question. “What do you mean?”
“What is the worst possible thing that could happen to him at this point?”
“For her to not feel the same way.”
“No,” Colton said, suddenly somber in a way Vlad rarely saw his friend. “For her to love him, too, but to leave him anyway.”
Silence descended over the room. The reverent, damn, that’s some deep shit kind of silence.
“Vlad, does Tony believe that Anna would ever choose him over Jack?” Malcolm asked.
“No,” he breathed.
“Which means she has to go look for Jack,” Mack said. “Otherwise, has she really chosen Tony? How will he know that she really wants him?”
“He has to let her go,” Noah said.
Vlad shook his head. No. That was too mean. He couldn’t do that to Tony.
“More importantly,” Malcolm said, “he has to find the faith that their love is strong enough for her to come back to him.”
Vlad tossed his notebook. “If you guys know my characters so damn well, then you write it.”
Colton tsked and opened a beer. “Sorry, dude. Only you can write the end to your own story.”
* * *
* * *
“I don’t think this looks right.”
Michelle pulled her tray from one of the large ovens inside the ToeBeans Café kitchen and set it on the cooling counter with a skeptical eye.
Elena peeked over Michelle’s shoulder at the golden-brown pastry cups. “They’re perfect.”
Elena was teaching them how to make korzinochki, a sweet little sour-cream tartlet that had been one of her father’s favorites and would be perfect for the