Five Years Later
The sun rose along the eastern ridge, bathing the meadow in the ethereal golden light. Dew caught the morning sunshine, glittering white sparkles against a sea of color. Already the birdsong filled the hollow between the foothills. The first bees of the morning were buzzing through the air and the sweet scent of primrose and aster were on the breeze. It did not matter how many times I made my way up the trail, I would always pause here, taking in the beauty of Peabody’s Meadow. In the distance, I saw a hawk take flight from one of the tall evergreens that grew on the hills that overlooked the meadow. I felt a tug from the tiny hand holding mine.
“Come on Mama!” Michelle cried, pulling me with all her tiny might. I smiled down at her.
“Go on ahead, we’ll be right there baby girl,” I told her. I let go of her hand and she took off. Virgil looped his arm around my waist and we followed behind her. At the high point on the trail, Michelle stopped, and when the light hit her dark brown curls, I felt myself get a little choked up. She looks just like Virgil, with his nose and deep brown eyes, but she is stubborn -no- tenacious, just like me.
“Daddy!” She cried. “Up, please!”
Virgil smiled indulgently and with one swift motion, he scooped her up and set her on his shoulders. He looped his arm back around my waist and we watched the sun continue to rise over the meadow.
Starting when Michelle was just a few months old, we made it a tradition to bring her to the meadow in the spring, before the tourists showed up. It was a special place for us, the place where Virgil and I fell in love, and we wanted Michelle to know she was a part of that love.
With great effort, I pulled my gaze away from the meadow and took in the sight of my husband and daughter, both so beautiful in the morning light. I took a moment to take stock in just how much things changed over the last few years.
My work with The Globe continued, and while I took fewer out of town assignments, I still got paid to travel the country and write about the things I saw and the people I met. As of late, Mel was threatening to retire and recommend me as his replacement.
Our wedding wasn’t anything fancy – a courthouse ceremony in Rose Hollow, but I allowed Mary to take Virgil and me to lunch afterwards. The freeze between us began to thaw, and she even came to visit a few times. She commented on the beauty of LaCera many times, and while she didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, I felt validated in my choice to stay.
Zaira was another story… She didn’t quite understand how I could stand to live somewhere without 24-hour businesses, dry cleaners, and delivery services, but even she admitted that there was something special about LaCera. In Zaira’s case, I thought maybe that might be Sheriff Mason, who would occasionally ask about my “dark haired friend”.
LaCera embraced me in the wake of the article and the book, rallying around me and making it clear to Will Bowman and his family that I was off limits. To date, I have not seen the family at a single town council meeting since the town voted to buy the land. Public opinion wasn’t swayed further in their favor when Queen Fi told anyone who would listen that they threatened me, potentially while I was pregnant with Virgil’s child.
Virgil turned, catching my eye. He smiled wide, his eyes alight with flecks of green and gold. He squeezed me closer to him.
“Look Mama,” Michelle cried as a Monarch butterfly flitted by, just out of reach.
“I see, baby girl,” I said. We watched as the sun rose higher, flooding the meadow with its bright, warm light.
And yes, we lived happily ever after……Because of course we did.
