Page 71 of Winter Break

He scooped up a backpack that hadn’t been in the hallway when we arrived, and we bundled up, stealing kisses in the mud room once more.

We decided to walk, gloved, hand in hand back to One Hundred Four and stood outside, staring at the building, three Christmas trees lighting up the interiors of three different stores, a light on in Anita’s apartment.

“There’s always been these big things hanging over my head. Maybe not since the moment I walked in that door all those winters ago, but it only took a few months, and a few strained conversations with my parents, before I knew I’d made the right choice; before I knew Breakwater was home. And I know that Anita’s gift to me is one that was given to her all those years ago, and that there is something poetic and right about it. But do I deserve it? Am I the right keeper of this flame?

“I have Brett to thank for all of it. Not only for bringing me here, but for telling me I should come back, or at least that I should think about moving away from home. It had never occurred to me that I could, much less should, do that.

“So for it to be your dad, and you …”

“Hey, now, are you comparing me to my dad?”

“Yes, in the sense that I didn’t want to rock the boat here. I wasn’t going to sell, but I was never going to tell your dad to fuck off either. He’s your father. Yours and Brett’s. And he’s a prominent and important member of this community.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me and Anita to tell him off for you!”

I turned, and Dalton did, too, so that we were facing each other. “And you, Dalt.” I yanked off a glove to run my fingers through hair that was blowing in the ever-present ocean breeze.

“How could I want his son? My best friend’s little brother? More to the point, how could he want me? I thought I’d have to go my whole life, remembering one perfect winter break. Hoping it would be enough. Taking comfort in you finding your happiness.”

“I have, Turner. The happiness I’ve been dreaming of since a winter break from long, long ago is right here.” His hand found my heart through layers of clothes. “With you.” We kissed there on the boardwalk, not worrying about who might be walking past to catch us doing it. I took his hand and fumbled with the lock to the toy store.

“Did I ever tell you about the summer, maybe, what, three, four years ago, when I saw this superhot lifeguard walking that way down the boards?”

“Superhot, huh? Should I be jealous?”

“I mean, he did have sun-kissed, dirty-blond hair that was longer than yours, so, you know, just my type.” I tugged at his shorter locks.

“Oh my God! I had no idea how invested everyone was in my stupid man bun. I swear, I should just shave it all off, like back in my swim-team days. Do you have clippers up there?”

We’d cut through the store and were clomping up the back stairs to my apartment.

“I mean, I do, but I can think of a much better way for us to occupy our time this evening. And I would very much like to be running my fingers through your hair while we’re doing it.”

Epilogue

Turner at Thirty

“Ilove this song!” Preston shouted, grabbing my hand, but I stood firm. He found his way to the dance floor anyway, jumping up and down alone, singing along and grinning my way until his attention was pulled away by a man handing him a drink.

At the same moment, my man handed me a beer.

“Here you go, baby,” he shouted over the loud music and roaring crowd. “You didn’t want to dance? This is a great song.”

“Never heard it,” I confessed.

“You’ve never heard “Between Us” by Grant Scavino before? Oh my God, it’s a few years old, but it was a huge hit when I was little.”

I shrugged. “Church kid, remember?”

Dalton wrapped his arms around me and kissed me soundly, singing the bouncy lyrics that still seemed to hold a heavy message about secret love in my ear.

“You can take me to church anytime, baby.”

I faked a gasp. “Blasphemy,” I joked. I was getting much better at joking about that type of thing.

He laughed, then began moving in place and singing out loud to the apparently very-popular song. When it ended, we stood arm in arm, watching happy people dancing while we sipped our beer.

After a few minutes, it occurred to me. “You can go dance if you want, Dalt. I’m sure Preston won’t mind if you …” I didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Austin and Randall walked up, Austin’s arm tight around his boyfriend, the other one straight up in the air.