Some Bright Someday (Maple Valley #2) - Melissa Tagg Page 0,119
and depot museum, a family orchard, thirteen antique stores, and at last count, forty-four different fairs, festivals, and events on the community calendar. It’s entirely possible we’ve gone as far as we can go.”
“You really do need to talk to Joanna about that coffee situation. Never in a million years would I have thought you’d say such a thing.”
They talked for another couple of minutes before ending the call, and Jenessa stood, turning one more slow circle around the cottage that housed so many of her earliest, happiest memories.
But no longer would her sense of warmth and family only happen inside these walls. The main house was a home now. And Colie and Violet would be wondering what was taking her so long. Cade might wake up at any minute.
She walked to the sink and retrieved Lucas’s cup.
“I forgot how adorable this cottage is.”
She whirled. “Aunt Lauren?”
Her aunt’s grin was wide and wondrous. “You loved surprises as a kid. I hoped for the whole five-hour drive here that was still the case. But if I should’ve called—”
She lowered the mug to the counter and moved to embrace the older woman. “I’m so glad you’re here.” They’d talked on the phone several times since meeting in Minneapolis, had even started texting on a daily basis. “You abandoned the art gallery for the day?”
Aunt Lauren laughed. “Oh, Tony can handle it. He’s an excellent fill-in in a pinch, in addition to being a stand-out husband.”
She’d heard plenty about Tony during their calls. The couple had met in their late thirties at some charity fundraiser, and he’d been wildly supportive of Aunt Lauren’s dream to open her own gallery.
“And you’re here because . . .” she prompted.
“Because I wanted to see my niece and those cute kids again. Technology is nice, but it only goes so far.” She looked around the cottage. “I hadn’t considered I’d get the perk of seeing this place again, too. I stopped at the house first. Colie sent me out here.”
“Did you see the shutters?” She’d made that discovery for herself on the same day Lucas had left. He must’ve spent his last hours in Maple Valley freshening them up with a new coat of paint the exact shade of blue her aunt had chosen years ago.
“I did indeed.” She wandered to the table in the corner, running her fingers over its surface just as Jen had done. “How can I be so overjoyed at our reunion while at the same time still so pained at all I’ve missed?” She met Jen’s gaze with tears in her eyes.
“I was just thinking about that—about the tension of complicated and conflicting emotions. I’m over the moon about the kids being here but . . .”
Her aunt stood in front of her, her rose-scented perfume mingling with the smell of the cottage. “But you miss that man who writes the crazy-long texts.”
Except he hadn’t written any crazy-long texts lately. Lucas had called her twice and texted a few times, caring but quiet as ever.
It wasn’t enough. And she couldn’t shake the desire to chase him down and beg him to come home.
“Everyone says he needs space. And I know that’s true. He’s had so much to process lately.” Aunt Lauren had already heard it all. “I just didn’t know it was possible to miss someone this much. Weeks ago, I started picturing . . . oh, this sounds ridiculous, but I started picturing him as part of my family. I had thoughts of Thanksgiving and Christmas and the kids in pajamas. Part of that picture might actually happen. But it just doesn’t feel complete without him. And I still haven’t figured out how to be okay with that.”
Aunt Lauren tilted her head. “Who says you have to be okay with it?”
She managed a laugh. “I’m trying to do this whole thing where I trust God. Just, like, one day at a time.”
“Jen, you can trust God and still wish things were different. Faith doesn’t mean you stop dreaming about the future or desiring something you don’t yet have. God cares about the things that matter to you.” Aunt Lauren took her hand and led her to the table once more. She sat and motioned for Jen to do the same. “Do you remember when I first taught you to use watercolors?”
“Yeah. Your painting stint lasted from when I was seven to almost nine. It was ceramics before and photography after.”
Her aunt gave a breezy laugh. “Wow, good memory. Well, I was