I smiled, watching as he picked up my bra and clothing. “What was that you said earlier? All paths lead to here.”
He came and stood between my legs, tilting my head up by my chin. “Let’s go inside so I can make love to you properly, over and over until either the bed breaks or we do.”
“I don’t want to break the bed. I love it and plan to sleep in it for many years to come.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying . . .” He dug his hand into his pocket, then got down on a knee and showed me the mood ring. Not only had he kept it all these years, but he’d had it in his pocket during our whole conversation. Just like that last morning at camp. “Lake Dolly Kaplan . . .” He took my left hand and slid the ring onto my fourth finger.
“Wait,” I said, incredulous. “I didn’t even answer.”
He laughed. “It’s just temporary, until I can find you the perfect ring.”
I bent over the bench, holding his face. “It is perfect,” I said softly. “Everything you give me is perfect.”
“So is that a yes?”
I sighed happily. “It’s not a no.” I looked him in the eyes, stripping away the playfulness between us so he’d understand I was serious. My great bear, my one true love, the rock I’d clung to in the angry ocean that’d brought us here, the one I feared wasn’t finished with us yet. “I love you.”
“Then come to bed with me.”
“I will. I just need a minute to myself.”
“Whatever you need, Birdy.” He kissed my forehead and took my things inside.
I looked at the ring on my hand as it fell over, top heavy. It was still a little too big, too clunky and inconvenient, just like my love for Manning. It was also a deep purple I’d never seen, and though I didn’t know for sure, I guessed that must be the color of happiness.
My legs swung under the bench as I listened to crickets chirp and frogs burp and owls hoot all around the woods until the shed light shut off again, plunging me into the dark. I wondered how far the lake was, and if Manning and I would spend summer days there, soaking in the sun, and each other, until night fell. Until the black lake water stilled and let the moon shimmer on its glassy surface.
I hopped off the bench and walked back toward the house, stopping where it was darkest—where the stars shone brightest. Wherever Manning went, I’d follow. If he wanted to live amongst the constellations, I’d move with him around an immovable universe, guided by starlight, and when we got separated, fate would light the path back to each other. Because you couldn’t move the stars—Manning and I were inevitable—and as I stood in awe of the infinite night sky, I thanked the heavens for that.
The Beginning