And with that, he suddenly realized where she was.
Jeremy gripped the steering wheel, trying to steel himself for the end of his journey. His chest was tight and he could feel himself breathing too quickly, just as he had earlier in the afternoon, as he'd taken his seat on the plane. It was hard to believe that he'd started his day in New York thinking he would never see Lexie again, and now here he was in Boone Creek, planning to do what he thought was impossible. He drove the darkened roads, still unnerved by the thought of what Lexie's reaction to his return might be.
Moonlight lent the cemetery an almost bluish color, and the tombstones seemed to glow as if lit dimly from within. The wrought-iron fencing added a spooky touch to the ethereal setting. As Jeremy approached the cemetery's entrance, he saw Lexie's car parked near the gate.
He pulled up behind it. Climbing out of Doris's car, he could hear the ticking of the engine as it cooled. Leaves crackled underfoot and he took a deep breath. He placed his hand on the hood of Lexie's car and felt the warmth radiating through his palm. She hadn't been here long.
He passed through the gate and saw the magnolia, its leaves black and shiny, as if they'd been dipped in oil. He stepped over a branch and recalled groping his way through the cemetery on that foggy night with Lexie when he'd been unable to see anything. Halfway through the cemetery grounds, he heard an owl hoot from one of the trees.
Leaving the path, he moved around a crumbling crypt, walking slowly to keep the noise to a minimum, climbing the slight incline. Above him, the moon hung in the sky as if tacked to a blackened sheet. He thought he heard a low murmur, and when he stopped to listen, he felt an intense surge of adrenaline. He had come to find her, to find himself, and his body was readying him for whatever came next. He crested the small hill, knowing that Lexie's parents were buried on the other side.
It was almost time. He would see Lexie in just a moment and she would see him. He would settle it once and for all, here where it all began.
Lexie was standing just where he imagined she would be, bathed in silvery light. Her face had an open, almost mournful expression, and her eyes were a luminous violet. She was dressed for the weather--a scarf around her neck, black gloves that made her hands mere shadows.
She was speaking softly, but he couldn't make out the words. As he watched, she suddenly paused and looked up. For the longest moment, their eyes simply held one another.
Lexie seemed frozen in place as she stared back at him. Finally, she looked away. Her eyes focused down on the graves again, and Jeremy realized he had no idea what she was thinking. He suddenly felt that it had been a mistake to come here. She didn't want him here, she didn't want him at all. His throat tightened, and he was about to turn away when he noticed that Lexie wore the slightest smirk on her face.
"You know, you really shouldn't stare like that," she said. "Women like a man who knows how to be subtle."
Relief flooded his body, and he smiled as he took a step forward. When he came close enough to touch her, he reached out and placed his hand on her lower back. She didn't pull away; instead, she leaned into him. Doris had been right.
He was home.
"No," he whispered into her hair, "women like a man who will follow them to the ends of the earth, or even Boone Creek, if that's what it takes."
Pulling her close, he lifted her face and kissed her, knowing that he would never leave her again.
Epilogue
Jeremy and Lexie were sitting together, cuddled beneath a blanket, staring down at the town below. It was Thursday evening, three days after Jeremy's return to Boone Creek. The white and yellow lights of the town, interspersed with occasional reds and greens, seemed to be flickering, and Jeremy could see plumes of smoke rising from chimneys. The river flowed black like liquid coal, mirroring the sky above. Beyond it, the lights from the paper mill spread in all directions, illuminating the railroad trestle.
Over the past couple of days, he and Lexie had spent a lot of time talking. She apologized for lying about Rodney and confessed that driving away as Jeremy stood on the gravel road at Greenleaf had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. She described the misery of the week that they'd been apart, a sentiment that Jeremy echoed. For his part, he told her that while Nate wasn't thrilled with his move, his editor at Scientific American was willing to let him work from Boone Creek, provided he made it back to New York regularly.
Jeremy didn't mention that Doris had come to visit him in New York, however; on his second evening back in town, Lexie had brought him over to Doris's for dinner, and Doris had pulled him aside and asked him not to say anything.
"I don't want her thinking that I was interfering in her life," she said, her eyes shining. "Believe it or not, she thinks I'm pushy."
Sometimes he found it hard to believe that he was really here with her; on the other hand, it was hard to believe that he'd ever left in the first place. Being with Lexie felt natural, as if she were the home he'd been seeking. Although Lexie seemed to feel the same way, she wouldn't let him stay at her house, insisting, "I wouldn't want to give the folks around here something to gossip about." Nevertheless, he felt reasonably comfortable at Greenleaf, even if Jed still hadn't cracked a smile.
"So you think it's serious between Rodney and Rachel?" Jerremy asked.
"It seems that way," Lexie said. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately. She beams every time he shows up at Herbs, and I swear he blushes. I think they'll be really good for each other."
"I still can't believe you told me you were going to marry him."
She nudged her shoulder against his. "I don't want to go into that again. I've already apologized. And I'd rather you not remind me about it for the rest of my life, thank you very much."
"But it's such a good story."
"You think so because it makes you look good by making me look bad."
"I was good."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Yes, you were."
He pulled her closer, watching as a shooting star skimmed the sky. They sat in silence for a moment.
"Are you busy tomorrow?" he asked.
"That depends," she said. "What did you have in mind?"
"I called Mrs. Reynolds, and I'm going to check out some houses. I'd like it if you came along. In a place like this, I wouldn't want to find myself in the wrong sort of neighborhood."
She hugged him tighter. "I'd love to come."
"And I'd like to bring you to New York, too. Some time in the next couple of weeks. My mom's insisting that she have a chance to meet you."
"I'd like to meet her, too. Besides, I've always loved that city. Some of the nicest people I've ever met live there." Jeremy rolled his eyes.
Above them, thin strands of clouds floated past the moon, and on the horizon, Jeremy could see a storm approaching. In a few hours, the rains would come, but by then, he and Lexie would be sipping wine in her living room, listening as the raindrops pelted the rooftop.
In time, she turned toward him. "Thank you for coming back. For moving here . . . for everything."
"I had no choice. Love does funny things to people."
She smiled. "I love you, too, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"What? You're not going to say it?"
"Do I have to?"
"You bet you do. And use the right tone, too. You have to say it like you mean it."
He grinned, wondering if she would guide his "tone" forever. "I love you, Lexie."
In the distance, a train whistle sounded, and Jeremy saw a pinprick of light in the darkened landscape. Had it been a foggy night, the lights would soon be appearing in the cemetery. Lexie seemed to follow his thoughts.
"So tell me, Mr. Science Journalist, do you still doubt the existence of miracles?"
"I just told you. You're my miracle."
She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment before reaching for his hand. "I'm talking about real miracles. When something happens that you never believed possible."
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"No," he said. "I think there is always an explanation if one digs deep enough."
"Even if a miracle were to happen to us?"
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he looked at her. He could see the reflection of the town lights flickering in her eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
She took a deep breath. "Doris shared some news with me earlier today."
Jeremy watched her face, unable to grasp what she was saying, even as her expression shifted from hesitant to animated to expectant. She gazed at him, waiting for him to say something, and still his mind refused to register her words.
There was science and then there was the unexplainable, and Jeremy had spent his life trying to reconcile the two. He dwelt in reality, scoffed at magic, and felt pity for the true believers. But as he gazed at Lexie, trying to make sense of what she was telling him, he found his old sense of surety slipping.
No, he couldn't explain it, and in the future, he never would. It defied the laws of biology, it shattered his assumptions about the man he knew himself to be. Quite simply, it was impossible, but when she gently placed his hand on her stomach, he believed with sudden, euphoric certainty the words he never thought he would hear.
"Here's our miracle," she whispered. "It's a girl."