What Comes Next

by Desni Dantone

  Mitch’s chipper mood doesn’t last long. It fades quickly within minutes of arriving at the bluffs, when I don’t immediately find the next note. Aside from us, the parking lot overlooking the river is deserted, so I doubt anyone took it. As far as I know, the high school kids still have parties down here, but now, in the middle of the day, it is quiet aside from the sound of our steps over the rocky terrain.

  It takes a few passes before Mitch finds the folded-up paper pinned to the trunk of a tree not far from the parking lot. Not far from where we parked our first night up here together—a night I will never forget.

  This note reminds me another memorable time. One equal parts happy and depressing.

  Ana –

  Long before either of us knew it, and long before I said some of the dumbest words to ever come out of my mouth, I was falling for you, and your hair that curls in the rain.

  That day is one of the most memorable days of my life.

  I still remember the excitement I felt when I saw you sitting in the bleachers for the first time. I even remember where you sat that day. Do you?

  That day was the first I’d spoken to Ben after our kiss in Richmond—a kiss he’d deemed, at that time, a mistake. It also marked the first argument we had.

  I relive the day from the front seat of Mitch’s Camaro all the way to the ball fields. I remember everything—the storm clouds, the rain pelting our faces, the mud caking our shoes. Most of all, I recall the words he said to me.

  You don’t deserve the shit I’ll bring into your life.

  He repeated these words to me just a few days ago. His note implies that they are the dumbest words he’s ever said. I couldn’t agree more, but I will take him on his dumbest day, any day of the week, if it gives me a future with him.

  Finally grasping an understanding for what he’s doing with this note scavenger hunt, I jump out of Mitch’s car before he’s come to a complete stop at the high school. Eager to find out what memory Ben has left for me next, I sprint toward the bleachers adjacent the baseball field.

  I find the next note taped to the underside of the seat I sat in over three years ago. With a smile on my face, I sit down to read it.

  Ana –

  This field was where some of my finest moments played out for everyone to see. You were the one I wanted to share all of those moments with then, and you are the one I want to share all of the moments to come. I started to realize that the night you gave me the perfect end to the perfect day, while you had a strawberry sundae.

  Once I make it back to the car, I direct Mitch to The Pit. Not even his complaints about how long this scavenger hunt is taking can eliminate the fun I’m having, nor the smile on my face at the memories Ben is bringing to the surface. I’m eager for more, and again my hand is reaching for the door before Mitch breaks to a stop in the parking lot.

  “Just wait here,” I tell Mitch before I jump out of the car.

  Stepping inside the restaurant, I spot Ms. Sawyer behind the bar, a broad smile on her face. With all of Ben’s notes tucked safely away in the pocket of my jeans, I walk over to her.

  “Were you in on this, too?” I ask.

  “I only helped a little.” She winks, and waves a hand toward the rear of the building. “Go on. I think there’s something for you back there. I assume you have an idea where to look.”

  “I do,” I assure her. As if I will ever forget the steamy kiss Ben gave me in the narrow hallway outside the bathrooms after the most important game he ever played at that time.

  “What was that?” I asked him, and he told me, “I wanted the perfect ending to the perfect day.”

  A few days later, we were . . . us. Together. It was supposed to be forever.

  Maybe it still can be.

  With each step I take toward the back of the building, the more convinced I am. Even after all that has happened, even with all the recent doubts, Ben and I will find a way. Today, he’s proven with his words to me that he wants it as much as I do.

  I wonder if I’ll find Ben waiting for me when I turn the corner into the hallway. At some point, I have to see him. When I make the turn, it’s not Ben waiting for me, but another note pinned to the wall.

  Ana –

  You were, and always will be, the light to my darkness. You guided me through the bad, and became the only escape I needed or wanted.

  Sometimes we hid together in this place that is now surrounded by memories of you.

  It started when we were kids, and I first found you here. If only we knew then all the good that we would eventually find.

  Here?

  Does that mean that I’m nearing the end of my search? That he’s waiting here for me?

  Not here, at The Pit, but . . .

  I know exactly where he’s at, and where he’s waiting for me.

  When Mitch finally pulls back into the driveway at the farm, he grumbles that we could have skipped a few stops. I’m not listening to him as I jump out of the car.

  Jen walks out of the house, the grin she had on her face when we left growing larger by the second as she hands a large bouquet of daisies to me.

  “Is he here?” I ask breathlessly.

  Jen shakes her head. “Not here, but close.” Her eyes drift over my shoulder, and I know where she is hinting at me to go.

  Not that I need the clue. I already know where to find him. By the time I hit the trail on the other side of the barn, I’m practically running.

  I haven’t been back to the treehouse in two years. Aside from being a little weather-beaten, it looks the same. Knowing that I will find Ben inside it, combined with the nostalgia brought on by the wonderful memories he dug up today, brings fresh tears to my eyes.

  I hold the daisies gingerly in one hand while I climb the ladder to the top as fast my feet will take me. The moment I cross the threshold, Ben’s hand reaches out to pull me inside.

  His mouth drops open, but I’ll never know what he intended to say. My arms curl around his neck, and I pull his lips to mine before he can mutter a sound. The daisies are squashed between his head and my hands, but I don’t care. Nothing matters but the fact that he’s here, and he’s done the one thing I wanted him to do.

  In a roundabout, but memorable and fun, way.

  “Thank you,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Hmm?” His eyes peel open slowly, and he smiles down at me. “You are thanking me?”

  I nod eagerly. “For showing me that you think what we had deserves another shot.” I lean back to study his eyes as they hold mine. “That is what you were doing with all those notes, right?”

  He nods. “I remember it all, Ana, and I don’t want to lose any of it ever again.”

  “Then we won’t,” I conclude confidently, then add, “As long as you don’t run away again.”

  He surprises me with a light chuckle. “I wasn’t running away. The last few days I’ve been . . . fixing some wrongs.”

  “Did you fix them?”

  “I think so. I’ve got a good start, something to grow on.” His eyes faintly darken as he gazes down at me. “There’s a lot I need to tell you . . . about what happened over there. Things I’ve seen, the things that still haunt me, and what I had to do this past week to finally start moving past it. I want to tell you about all of it, and I will soon, but for now I just want to tell you how sorry I am for the other night. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I know you didn’t mean what you said. I’m not going to pretend to understand everything, because I don’t. But I get it, and I’m glad you’re willing to share it with me.”

  “That’s not all I’m willing to share with you,” he adds with a lopsided grin. At my perplexed expression, he continues, “In case you haven’t already figured it out from my notes, I want to share everything with you, Ana. Starting now . . .”

  My gaze drops to his hand when it lowers to his pocket. Though I can’t see what he withdraws, I suspect I know, and my heart races in nervous anticipatio
n.

  “In case you’re wondering why I brought you here,” he starts slowly, “I chose it because of the history we have with this place.”

  “History, huh?” I whisper, unable to muster anything more than that.

  “More so than any other place, including all the ones I just sent you to. We’ve had a lot of firsts in this treehouse. Our first kiss was right here.” He points to the floor at our feet before swinging his finger to a spot on the opposite side of the room. “That is where I stood the first time I realized I loved you. You didn’t know it yet, but I did. And right there . . .” His hand directs my gaze to one corner. “That’s where we spent our first night together. Granted, you were drunk and probably don’t remember it, but I do. And right here . . .” My smile grows as he shifts to a spot a step away. “This is where I stand when I ask you to give me a lifetime of firsts to come.”

  He unfurls his hand to reveal the ring that once graced my finger. Seeing it again after hearing his amazing words, I realize how badly I want it back. More than that, I want to finally marry Ben Sawyer. I hesitate only because simply saying “yes” doesn’t seem good enough given the situation.

  “Ana . . .” he starts with a nervous chuckle. “I want to bring you daisies every single day. I want to fill up a lifetime’s worth of memories written on notes like the ones I gave you today. I want to live with you in the house I built for you, because I knew you would come back some day. I want you to marry me, and I promise you that I won’t lose my way again.”

  My eyes dart between his open hand, and his hopeful eyes. The ring and him, two things I want more than anything. Him, because I love him. The ring, because it symbolizes forever with him.

  Emotion constricts my throat, and I fear I won’t even be able to say yes. My head bobs up and down eagerly as I hold my hand out and blink away the happy tears.

  “You have to say it this time,” Ben teases.

  “Yes,” I manage to whisper. “I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  “Thank God,” Ben sighs. With a satisfied grin, he slips the ring into its rightful spot on my finger. “This is finally back where it belongs.”

  “It’s where it will stay,” I add.

  We seal our promises to each other with a sweet kiss. After a far too brief time, he pulls away to ask, “So when do you want to make it official?”

  “Umm . . .”

  Ben’s eyes dance mischievously. “How’s tomorrow sound?”

  “Tomorrow? But . . .”

  “But nothing. You already have the dress,” he reminds me, and I briefly wonder how he knows I still have it, packed away with the rest of my stuff in Jen’s father’s garage.

  Jen. Of course. I knew she was keeping something from me. My sneaky friend has been helping him. His next words only confirm my suspicion, and add more questions. “Marry me now, and you won’t have to stay with Jen. You’ll have a home—”

  “Wait a minute.” I hold a hand up. “You know I sold the farm?”

  He nods softly, and a slow grin forms on his lips. “I knew before you knew.”

  “What? How?”

  “I bought it. I—”

  “Why would you—” My eyes pop open wide. “What are you—”

  “It’s not for us,” he cuts in softly. “I bought it for someone else. Someone who needs it, and someone I promised a friend I would take care of the best I could.”

  I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you remember the friend I wrote about in some of my letters? Luke?” When I nod, Ben continues with his explanation, “He died, and his death is one of the things that has haunted me. Like I said earlier, I’ll tell you everything that happened, but right now . . .” He trails off and settles his gaze over my shoulder, on the horizon beyond the treehouse. “Luke’s widow and son were left with nothing. They were losing their home. Since I promised Luke I’d take care of them, and I hoped you would agree to move in with me, I thought the farm was a good option for them. Of course, they only need the house. We’ll sell most of the land—”

  I throw myself into his arms, cutting him off. His shoulders shrug under my tight embrace before he squeezes me back. His mouth drops to my ear. “They’re probably here by now, and I happen to know they’re looking forward to a wedding this weekend . . .”

  My eyes are wide when I lean back to peer up at him. With one look at the careful hope in his eyes, I know my answer. “Yes. I’ll marry you tomorrow. After I meet my new neighbors.”

  His hand slips around my waist and rests on my swollen belly, as he comes to a stand behind me where I sit on the newly-crafted wooden bench. “How’s my girl?” he whispers into my ear.

  “Which one?” I tease.

  My gaze darts toward the newly-erected swing set in the shadow of the old barn, where the boisterous three-year old in pigtails squeals for Luke Junior to push her higher and faster. Her eyes, as deep-brown as her daddy’s, twinkle as the little boy gleefully obliges her request.

  “That one? Or this one?” I put my hand over top of his, where it rests on my belly.

  “Actually, I was asking about you.” He smiles down at me before pressing a kiss to my lips. His eyes narrow fractionally when he leans back. “And yesterday, you told me you thought for sure the baby was a boy.”

  I shrug noncommittedly. “Katherine wants a sister. Take it up with her.”

  Truth is, I’m fairly confident the baby is a boy, considering this pregnancy is completely different from my last one in every way. But teasing Ben is too easy to resist. Katherine and I do it regularly to drive him crazy.

  “Good luck with that,” Mitch chimes in as he crosses the yard toward us. “That kid is destined to be a lawyer or something. I won’t even tell you what she talked Luke into doing the other day.”

  Behind me, Ben grumbles, “Just like her mother.”

  “Sawyer is her last name,” I counter, and shoot teasing glances between the brothers.

  “Didn’t take me long to realize that name spelled trouble,” Beth adds lightly. She places four glasses of lemonade on the small round table beside us before planting a fleeting kiss to Mitch’s cheek. To me, she asks, “Jen’s able to make it for dinner tonight, right?”

  “She said she would,” I answer.

  “What about Jeffrey?” Mitch wonders.

  “He’ll be getting in late.” I shrug. Glancing over my shoulder at Ben, I add, “I told him to be quiet this time, so that he doesn’t wake Katherine again.”

  “He just needs to move back already,” Mitch grumbles. “Enough of this visiting every other weekend crap. He loves it here, even if he won’t admit it.”

  I know my brother has grown to love Stone Creek, almost as much as he loves his little niece. He drives in to visit often—crashing in our guest room, which will be occupied in another month once baby number two arrives. Now that he has been discharged from his long service in the Army, I suspect he’ll be coming home to stay soon.

  A little pestering by his big sister when he arrives tonight should be enough to sway him. If not, I can always enlist Katherine to coax him with her “Peese Unca Jeffy.” Her pout is guaranteed to weaken the toughest of men.

  None more so than her daddy, who doesn’t stand a chance when the two bundles of energy ditch the swing set and run toward us with matching faces of excitement.

  “Can we go play in the treehouse?” Luke gushes.

  “Peese, Daddy?” Big brown eyes look over my shoulder, and I know what the answer is going to be—especially when she looks at him like that.

  “I’ll take them,” Mitch offers. He shoots a secretive glance at Ben. “I’ve been meaning to get something from under that loose board in the floor before somebody”—his head nods at an unsuspecting Luke—“gets curious.”

  “You never got that stuff out of there?” Ben exclaims.

  Mitch shakes his head, and Beth asks, “What’s under the floorboard?”

  I turn to glance a
t Ben, and laugh at the stricken look on his face.

  “What?” Beth presses, obviously not putting it together yet.

  Mitch leans in to whisper in her ear, and she turns wide, panicked eyes on him and Ben. “Get them out! Now!”

  “I’m on it, sweetheart,” Mitch calls as he hurries after the children, who are already running past the barn.

  I can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as I watch them laugh and play together in the shadow of the old building. The sight is familiar, something I’ve experienced myself.

  “She runs after him the same way I used to run after you,” I say to Ben.

  “Mmm-hmm.” He rests his chin on my shoulder, and his fingers lace through mine. In my ear, he murmurs, “I’ve noticed.”

  Together, we watch as Luke Junior stops to help Katherine climb through the boards in the fence. She beams up at him with unmistakable adoration before they take off for the sacred place that will always hold a special place in my heart, thanks in part to all the wonderful firsts that took place within its walls.

  Behind me, Ben sighs warily. “When she turns sixteen, we’re putting a door with a lock on that treehouse.”

  “Sixteen?” I turn to plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Better make it twelve.”

  First and foremost, I want to thank my fabulous readers for sticking with me through thick and thin. All of you at Dantone’s Elite Squad, M.Y.T.H. 101, and Club YA – I appreciate the overwhelming support you have shown while I deviate from my “usual” paranormal worlds to explore something contemporary. Also, to all my family and friends who were there with me over a decade ago when I first started to pen this book – thanks for not laughing at me. You all supported me then, when it was a horrible rough draft, and still do today. For that, I am eternally grateful.

  Uncle Dale – Thank you for giving me the unique perspective into the war that only someone who went through it could understand. I could listen to your stories all day long, and never get tired of them!