She shrugged, and it felt like a weight floated off her shoulders at the same

time. “Not sure yet. It just came to me, this week, I think. I miss being creative.

Maybe I can start my own design business. Maybe even here. In Golden Grove.”

His eyes flamed. “Here? You sure?”

She chuckled. “No. But let's see what happens.”

He untangled himself from her. “Almost forgot,” he said. “I wanted you to

have something.”

“What?” She watched him, head tilted, curious, as he reached into the right

pocket of his tux. He pulled out a silver strand, took her left hand, opened her fingers.

“This,” he said, and placed it in her palm.

She looked down, eyes wide.

It was the necklace she had made him in third grade.

“I added a heart to it,” he said. “I hope that's okay.”

Her eyes shut as her hand closed around that tiny, simple, insignificant object which now meant everything in the world to her. Simple and plain.

Unremarkable to anyone except them.

And she loved him. She'd always loved him, somehow. She knew because

she'd never really loved anyone else. It wasn't that they were bad, or stupid. But they weren't Peter. Even when he hadn't been with her, he was there. He was her

roots, like this town. This slow, desperately dopey, wonderful, lovable little town, with all its memories, good and bad, like everywhere and everything else

in life. Who we are in the present includes who we were in the past. That's what Carol had said. But you could always change your future.

And there it was, her future, waiting, watching her with his clear blue eyes,

the fall breeze ruffling his hair, late afternoon sun shining a halo behind him. She almost laughed, the angel metaphor was so corny.

“What?” he said, as always, beautifully, hopelessly oblivious.

“Nothing,” she said, grinning. “Everything is fine. Everything is fine.”

Epilogue

Spring was finally here to stay. The scent of fresh earth blew through town on every breeze as farmers began tilling up the dirt. Carol had no fear of leaving her marigolds out overnight in the planters on Katie's old porch. The threat of frost

was gone. And the biggest wedding of the season was today.

The bride and groom dodged birdseed being flung at them from a gauntlet of

friends and family lining the front steps of the church.

Peter and Kate made it down the steps, hand in hand, followed by cheering

well-wishers. They stopped at the bottom, Kate brushing seeds from Peter's always unruly hair.

Students piled out of the church as well, most cheering for 'Mr. C.' School had been out a week now, and it was a perfect kickoff to summer.

Kate caught John Wells coming her way. She waved, almost laughing. He

was in the first suit she'd ever seen him wear but still wearing his favorite seed corn hat.

“Kate, congratulations,” he said as he shook her hand. “You too, Peter.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He turned back to Kate. “Thanks for the new brochures. Sandy showed them

to me. They look great.”

“You're welcome.”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh, and remember, we've got a planning session first week after you get back. The superintendent and the representative from Arts Share will be there, too.”

Kate nodded. “I'll be ready. Already have lots of ideas for the next school year.”

“I bet you do. Glad you decided to come aboard.”

She smiled, looking at Peter. “Me too.”

“Arts Share?” Peter asked when he was gone.

“Sorry, he just sprang that on me this week. John's agreed to help fund some

art tours for the students at area schools.”

“Nice,” Peter said, nodding. “Sure you can handle that along with your

Lucky Star work?”

They'd come up with the name for her new graphic design business together.

“No problem. Being self-employed gives me a ton of flexibility.”

“Just remember to leave your job here while we're on the honeymoon.”