I can’t hide the shock on my face. “You want me to come work atÉpices et Sucré?”
Shay sits up straight. “Yes. No. Kind of? I want to rebrand, and not just because no one in this town except Rora can actually pronounce the name correctly—you included, for the record.”
“Hey!”
“But also,” she continues, “it’s not the best fit for the town, anyway. I don’t think we need to be entirely Christmas themed, but something a little cozier, you know? And I understand if you just don’t want the responsibility of running a bakery full stop, but I thought maybe if we did it together?—”
“Yes.”
The word slips out before I even have time to think about it. But I don’t need to think about it. It’s the perfect solution for both of us to be happy in Wintermore, and the perfect solution so we don’t have to miss working together. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider it.
Shay blinks. “Oh. I had a whole spiel prepared—I didn’t realize it would be so easy. Are you sure,mon délice?”
“I’m sure,” I say. “It didn’t occur to me that I didn’t have to give up my dream entirely—and I think I’d enjoy it a lot more if I was sharing it with you. No, I know I would. But are you sure you want to rebrand?Épices et Sucréwas you and Georgie’s thing.”
“That’s exactly why I need to rebrand. I made the patisserie that Georgie wanted to own one day. It was never what I wanted. I want to do something here in town to honor her. With Nico,maybe, if I can convince him to talk about her. But I don’t have to dedicate my life to honoring her.”
“You don’t,” I agree. “But being happy and living the life you want… I think she’d see that as honoring her memory, even if it’s not exactly what you talked about when you were younger. You’re a good sister, sweetheart. Whatever happens after all of this, wherever she is, I bet she’s so proud of you.”
She drags in a ragged breath, her eyes watery, and squeezes my hand. “I wish she’d gotten to meet you.”
“Me too,” I say, wiping a tear as it spills down her cheek. “While we’re already emotional, I wasn’t entirely honest with you the other day.”
“Oh?”
“When I said I thought I was falling for you,” I explain, my heart racing. “I know it’s way too soon, but we could’ve died yesterday, so I’m not going to wait until it’s more socially acceptable. Sweetheart, I’ve been crazy about you since that first kiss. I love you.” Another three words I’ve been desperate to say; another relief as I finally put them out into the universe, as I watch them sink into Shay.
“Noelle,” she breathes, her tears falling hard and fast now. “I love you, too. So much.”
“And to be clear—not casually, right? Not just friends?” I joke, my voice watery.
Shay clasps my face, laughing as I dry her face with the corner of my blanket. “I think, actually, you might just be my best friend. But there’s nothing casual about how much I love you—I’m going to keep you forever, if you’ll let me.”
Forever sounds pretty damn sweet to me.
34
SHAY
ONE MONTH LATER
It’s only been a few weeks since I braced myself, called Nico, and said Georgie’s name to him for the first time in twenty-something years. He took it better than expected; I think he knew it was coming. It’s impossible not to see how much I’ve changed in the past two months, but I can’t truly move forward without acknowledging what brought me here in the first place.
“I want to do something to honor Georgie in town,” I told Nico, after he got over the initial shock of me calling rather than texting.
For a moment, he said nothing; I couldn’t even hear him breathing down the line, but I knew he hadn’t hung up. And because I’m god-awful with silence, I kept going:
“Maybe plant a tree, or a flower garden, or, I don’t know, get a new swing for the playground, or?—”
“A bench,” he interrupted, surprising me so much I almost dropped my phone.
“A bench?”
“Yeah. I want to make her a bench.” His voice was thicker than usual, still gruff and scratchy, but with a softness that made me wonder if he was holding back tears, thinking about her.
“That sounds great. I’ll talk to the mayor, but I’m sure she won’t have a problem with us putting a bench somewhere.”
“I don’t know Wintermore very well. Is there a spot you think G”—he sucked in a deep breath—“Georgie. Is there a spot you think she would’ve liked?”
