“I’m sorry, Elle,” he said. “I know my reasons don’t excuse my actions, but all I wanted was the best for you and to keep you safe. I hope one day you’ll be able to find a man who can do a better job of it than I did.”
I was up and across the room before either one of us could say something else. Wrapping my arms tightly around Dad, I buried my head into his chest and let a few more tears fall. He hugged me back, quite possibly as hard as I’d ever been hugged before.
“You did a good job, Dad,” I said. “You raised a happy, healthy, mostly well-adjusted daughter. In case you haven’t seen the statistics, that’s quite the challenge these days.”
Dad’s chuckle rolled through his body, vibrating against mine. “I love you, Elle.”
I closed my eyes and believed everything was going to be all right. I’d talk with Logan, Cole would be back hopefully in a few days, and now that I’d had this unexpected heart-to-heart with Dad, I could figure out what I wanted to do after summer was over.
“I love you, too, Dad.”
He kissed the top of my head. “And that’s all that matters.”
The Fourth of July Festival was the same every year. I should know since I’ve been to it every year since I was born. I might not have had the brain capacity to recall the first few, but I knew what they were like. Exactly like last year’s, and the year before that, and the year before that.
Tonight though, the Festival would be different. At least for me and one boy who’d attended just as many of these things as I had.
Logan had rolled back into town earlier in the day. I’d really hoped to sneak in some time with him before the Festival, but when we talked, he said he was beat and in desperate need of a few hours of sleep before we met up. The Festival wasn’t exactly the ideal place for calling it quits with your lifelong friend and once-upon-a-time future husband, but I’d have to make do.
I’d been anxious all week, working out in my head what I would say to Logan, how much I would tell him. I was almost shaking from the adrenaline of knowing I was mere hours, if not minutes, away from giving the speech I was dreading.
But I had to do it. There was no way around it. I chose Cole. I had to let Logan go so he could hopefully one day find his female Cole equivalent.
Cole had been gone all week fighting the big fire down in Chelan. It was an area notorious for wildfires, and from the news, the smokejumpers and everyone else working the fire were having one heck of a time trying to keep it from spreading. I’d never been much of a news person up until that week. I don’t think I missed a newscast or article. Anything that had anything to do with the Chelan fire, I was glued to. From the sounds of it, the fire was mostly under control as of yesterday afternoon and the efforts were now concentrated on putting out hot spots.
I hadn’t heard from Cole since he took off with his crew last weekend—cell phones and wi-fi weren’t exactly readily available at the core of a wildfire—but I kept my phone close by at all times. I turned the ringer up to full volume at night just so I knew it would wake me up if he called.
By the time I pulled into the grassy lot a little after eight that night, the Festival was already in full swing. I had to park at the very edge of the lot, but even from there, I could smell the telltale Festival smells. Corn dogs, elephant ears, and something that wasn’t quite as pleasant tangled in the air, creating a potpourri that was familiar, yet it was already starting to feel foreign.
Foreign because I knew I was leaving Winthrop behind. Maybe not for good, but for a while. The day after Dad’s and my heart-to-heart, I broke the news to him. I was leaving in the fall to go to college. The one I’d decided on a couple weeks ago when this whole life altering path started. I don’t know who was more anxious over the idea—me or Dad—but for the most part, I was anxious in a good way.
I had a couple more months left of summer and Winthrop before I’d spread my wings and leave. I had a couple more months of Cole. That was what I dreaded most. The end of the summer. Me going one direction. Cole going wherever the smoke and fire led him. I’d chosen him and I wanted him, but I’d learned my lesson. I wouldn’t let the decisions I made that would affect my life be contingent on a man. Even a man like Cole.
We both knew what we had was special, something rare that took us both by surprise. If any couple had a chance of making a long distance thing work, it would be us. While I’d battle mid-terms and all night study sessions, Cole would be battling fires. Somewhere.
Even though I knew Cole and I had a fighting chance at giving this thing a go, no matter where life took each of us, I was a realist too. I knew the odds were more in favor of us not making it than in us riding into the sunset on a white horse. I got that. It twisted my stomach and made my breathing all panicky, but now that I’d figured out how to be honest with myself, I wasn’t going to put that mindset on pause when it came to Cole’s and my relationship.
So Logan and I had something to talk about, but so did Cole and I. Two intense conversations with two boys I cared for deeply. With Logan, it would break my heart, but with Cole, the possibility of my heart being ripped from my chest was very real. We’d been so busy just trying to be together, we hadn’t worked out what happened next. That was a whole lot of gray area I needed to put a little color into. Was this a summer romance for Cole, or was he hoping for more? How much more? How much more was I hoping for?
The questions never ran out and as I started weaving through the bodies milling around the festival, I was tackled by an onslaught of even more questions. Maybe that’s the reason I felt especially cynical about the festival that night.
My cynicism escalated as soon as I noticed a familiar, smiling face coming towards me.
“It’s about time you showed your pretty little face,” Mrs. Matthews said, wrapping her arms around me. “What do you think of the Festival? Best one yet, right?”
I surveyed the surrounding area. The same food vendors, the same dunk tank and carousel, the same white lights cris-crossing a few feet above our heads. The same people milling about. The only thing different this year was the cancelled firework display. Lack of rainfall and record high temperatures had a way of messing with a firework show.
“Hands down,” I said, thankful when she finally released me. I’d been doing my best to avoid her and Mr. Matthews all week. Not because I didn’t like them, they were great people, highly respected in the community, but the guilt I’d carried around like a one ton weight doubled when I was around them.
“Have you seen Logan yet?” she asked, waving at a family passing us.
“No,” I said, my throat going a little dry just thinking about it. “I was just looking for him.”
She smiled. “Last I saw him, he was hanging around the corn dog stand. About to tear into his fourth one.”
“Didn’t they feed him while he was gone?”
“I think he’s eating because he’s nervous,” she said, leaning over like she was telling me a secret. “He’s an emotional eater. Takes after me.” She patted her flat stomach like it was anything but. Mrs. Matthews was twenty years older, but she and I could have shared clothes.
“Why’s he nervous?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
She bit her lip, chewing something out. Finally, she grabbed my hand and her eyes started to twinkle. “I think he wants to talk with you about something,” she said in a hushed voice.
That made two of us.
Then, cocking an eyebrow, she patted my hand. “Or something to ask you.”
Oh, boy. Not good. I got a little light headed thinking about it. She didn’t need to say the exact words to get across what she was getting at. Logan was going to propose tonight. Officially. One promise ring to be replaced with an engagement ring.
I was going to break up with the guy who was planning on asking me to marry him tonight.
Life had a sick sense of humor. Or timing.
Or both.
“I already think of you as a daughter, Elle, but it will be wonderful when it’
s official.”
Two ton weight of guilt . . . you’ve got nothing on what just busted my back.
“I’d better stop talking your ear off so you can go find Logan.” She flashed me a knowing smile. “I want to be the first to know. I pummeled that into him earlier, but in case he’s got the memory of his father, I’m telling you. Mother-in-law is the first to know,” she said, sticking her thumb into her chest. “Okay?”
It took me a few moments before I could reply. “Okay,” I said softly. “Logan or I will let you know what happens.”
Just then, a small mercy popped up beside Mrs. Matthews. Mrs. Peterson, one of the fellow Festival planning committee members, had a stoic look on her face.
“Sorry to interrupt, Marny, but I just thought you should know that bunch of smokejumpers just showed up,” she said, shaking her head.
My head whipped around instinctually, scanning for a familiar face.
“A few of them are pretty drunk already and the night is young. You know what happened last year . . .”
If I hadn’t been so preoccupied looking for Cole, I might have grinned. Mrs. Peterson’s and my definition of a tragedy were on opposite ends of the spectrum. My mom dying so young was a tragedy to me; to her, a few buzzed smokejumpers who’d held a contest to see who could climb to the top of the Ferris wheel first at last year’s Festival was a tragedy.
If any sort of encore performance was planned for this year, I knew Cole would be at the front of the line.
Mrs. Matthews made a face. “I’ll let Sheriff Montgomery know so he can keep tabs on them,” she said, her eyes automatically drifting in the direction of the Ferris wheel. No band of death wish smokejumpers hanging from it yet. “Thanks for letting me know.”
I waved at the two women before making my way through the crowd. I knew I needed to find Logan first. I had to talk with him before I could look for Cole because I knew if I found Cole first, I’m be consumed by him. All reason and restraint and better judgment would fly off with the fried food scented wind and I couldn’t do that with Logan in the same vicinity.
Plus, I also knew Cole likely wouldn’t touch me if he knew I hadn’t broken things off with Logan. So, even though my eyes scanned the crowd for Cole, I went in search of Logan.
I’d almost made my way to the corn dog stand when a pair of arms wound around me from behind.
“Looking for someone?” Logan’s familiar voice and the hint of hopefulness shot a stab of pain right through me. Just the tone of his voice was about to bring me to my knees. How was I going to make it through this?
I didn’t have the answer to that. All I knew was that I had to do it.
I twisted in his arms, trying not to let those blue eyes of his I’d stared into thousands of times cripple me. “Not anymore,” I answered him.
Logan studied my face and his forehead creased. I knew I looked almost as bad as I felt. I couldn’t hide it. It would have been a wasted effort.
I might as well get this over with before I lost all control.
“I need to talk to you,” I said quietly. “Alone.” A handful of Logan’s friends and teammates were scattered around us and the buzz of Festival noise made it hard to think, let alone tell a boy I’d loved for the past couple of years I wasn’t in love with him anymore.
Logan’s face fell, but not in worry. In nervousness.
Mrs. Matthews hadn’t been exaggerating. He was really going to do this tonight.
“I need to talk to you, too,” he said, shifting in place. “And I’d prefer to do it in privacy, too.” He shifted again. He was crazy nervous.
“You want to get out of here?” I said, nodding for the parking lot. I wasn’t eager to leave the Festival now that I knew Cole was likely wandering around, but right now, Logan was my priority.
“Yeah,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, “but not until you dance with me.” He grabbed my hand and starting leading me towards the same band playing the same songs from the same stage to the same husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, lovers and ex-lovers, all moving on a dance floor of uneven earth.
I held back. I wasn’t a dancing queen, nor was I a dancing fiend.
I was more a dancing dud.
“Come on, it’s tradition,” Logan said, pleading with his eyes. “We haven’t missed a year of dancing to ‘our’ song since we were twelve years old.” There might not have been a romantic spark between us back then, but our friendship was our bond. A lump formed in my throat when I realized I wasn’t only breaking up with a boyfriend tonight, I was breaking up with a good friend.
“I can’t let tonight be the year we miss our dance,” he continued. “I’d never forgive myself.” He smiled that Logan smile of his. “Come on. For me?”
It might have been the guilt. It might have been the way I cared for him. Or it might have been our history together. Whatever it was, I answered him with a single nod and let him lead me towards the stage.
Logan didn’t stop until we were in front of center stage. Motioning up at the singer—a guy who was in the choir at church—Logan dropped his arms around me and drew me close.
The band stopped playing their upbeat rendition of an oldie and broke into something slow and familiar. And yet, just like so much of this town was becoming, it was a bit foreign too.
“Our song,” Logan said, his face bright.
“Our song,” I whispered, realizing this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Logan had worked out with the band that with a nod of his head, they’d stop what they were playing and break into our song. On the same night he was planning on asking me to marry him. Knowing this, along with the gleam in his eye and the set of his brow, I knew what was coming. Of a mere minute or two away.
“I love you, Elle,” he began as a sheen of sweat surfaced on his forehead.
Crap. He was really going to do this thing. Right here and now.
So much for leading me to believe he wanted privacy for what he had to talk with me about tonight.
“I love you so, so much and I know you’re the girl for me. I’ve known that from the first day I met you.”
“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “Stop.”
Logan’s mouth clamped shut and he waited.
“Why do you love me, Logan? Do you know why? Can you list the reasons why?” My words bubbled to the surface faster than I could speak them. “Why are you with me? Do you know why you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
Logan’s face dropped. I could have just slapped him from the way he looked. “What?” he said after a while, sounding as baffled as he looked.
“Why are you with me, Logan? Why do you want to spend your life with me?” I asked, doing the best I could to make hard words sound soft.
Logan thought about this for a few moments while he held me close and moved in time to the slow song drifting around us. “Because I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather be with.”
I tried to follow his lead as we danced, but I couldn’t. I’d stopped following Logan’s lead weeks ago and I suppose that even translated onto the dance floor. Eventually I just gave up and we wound up just standing in place, with his arms around me, staring at one another.
“So you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather be with,” I repeated. “But what does that have to do with me? Why do you love me?”
Logan’s face couldn’t have gotten more confused. “Because I do, Elle.”
I inhaled and didn’t back down. “Why?”
“What? You want a list or something? A spreadsheet of reasons why I love you?” he said, his voice going a little high.
I lifted my brows and waited.
“I don’t have a list, Elle. Sorry.” Then, with a sigh, Logan slid one hand into his jacket pocket. “But I do have something that I think will demonstrate just how much I do love you and how I want to be with you. Forever.”
I shook my head and started backing away. “No, Logan,” I whispered.
When he r
aised his eyes and saw me backing away from him, he froze. “Elle?”
I had to get away. Right now. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed before turning and weaving through the obstacles of dancers and spectators.
So much for being strong tonight. So much for taking Logan aside and telling him it was over. So much for my whole plan.
I heard him call out my name as I sprinted away, but after I’d made it away from the stage and was halfway down food row, I couldn’t hear Logan anymore. People started to look at me curiously as I jogged. I suppose any crying, nearly hyperventilating person would attract some attention. So instead of heading for the Jeep so I could calm down and refigure how this whole night was going to go, I ducked inside a white canvas tent.
I was in luck because, not only was it dark and quiet, it was empty. It must have been some sort of storage area where the food vendors could stock their stuff because boxes and pallets of food and drink took up almost the entire tent.
I leaned into the closest tower of boxes and dropped my head below my knees. I needed to breathe. I’d never had one before, but I guessed what I was experiencing was very close to a panic attack. I wasn’t sure what would kill me first: lack of oxygen or cardiac arrest. It didn’t seem to matter how many breaths I took or how slow I tried to inhale and exhale them, I felt quite confident I was going to die or pass out if I didn’t get myself together and calm down.
As soon as I started to feel like my heart was slowing down, I’d remember Logan reaching into his pocket and I’d be right back in heart thumping through my chest mode.
“Elle,” a voice as worried as it was relieved broke through the tent right before a strong set of arms pulled me to him. “What’s the matter?” Cole’s fingers wove through my hair and drew my head to his chest. And just like that, I found the calm that had been evading me.
Or at least a margin of calm.
I slipped my arms around him and squeezed him hard. “How did you find me?”
“I just asked if anyone had seen the crying, frantic girl charging through the Festival like a madwoman and they pointed me this way,” he said lightly, holding me a little tighter. “No, I was just getting here and saw you duck inside.”
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