Page 109 of You Met Me There

“But hey,” I add, “I’m not leaving until tomorrow. So guess what?”

“What?” they say in unison.

“Tonight I’m sleeping over at your house.”

They gasp, looking at each other and then back at me.

“Really? Is that for real?” asks Archie, turning around to give Jules the most adorable serious face like he doesn’t believe me.

She nods. “It’s true. Aunt Nat is going to come over and spend the night before she drives back to Florida tomorrow.”

The boys squeal and jump around, and after a few seconds Jules tells them they can play by the front yard for a little while. They scamper away to grab sticks and find pine cones between the trees.

“Did you bring the prints?” I ask once we’re alone.

She nods her head. “They’re in the car.”

I follow her to her SUV, and she opens the door to the trunk. Inside are five wrapped frames with the photos I took to hang on the cabin walls.

“Have you looked at them?” I ask, waiting to rip the bubble wrap off.

“Yeah.” Her smile grows. “They’re perfect.”

She lifts a large frame—sixteen by twenty inches—out of the trunk and carefully peels back the wrapping to reveal an image of Main Street. The diner sits front and center. It’s a beautiful photo. Le Fou can be seen a short distance down the street, and the buildings’ reddish-orange bricks stand out against the greens of the trees in the background. The lake is almost visible in the image, but mostly the picture showcases the old-town charm of Maple Lake.

“What do you think?” Jules asks.

I look at her. “What do I think? What do you think? It’s going in your cabin.”

Her shoulders lift. “I think this one, and all the rest, are absolutely perfect. You did an amazing job.”

I swell with pride. While I was in Florida, I told Jules to get my laptop from the cabin. I explained to her exactly what folder to find the photos in, and I gave her the job of picking out the ones she liked the most. She picked five—ones I’d already edited and finalized—and had them printed and framed.

“Thanks for trusting me with this project,” I say.

She sighs. “I just hope it works,” she says. “I want the cabin to be rented out every season, not just the summer. So as long as sprucing it up with local diners and waterfalls will help, then I’m all for it.”

I wince. “Don’t hate me if it doesn’t work. But I think it will.” I give her my best impression of a true believer.

She smiles. “I think it will too.” She hefts up another frame. “Alright, let’s get these hung up.”

I help her carry the rest of them, and she calls the boys to follow us inside.

When we’re done, the whole cabin feels different. I hadn’t noticed before how empty the walls really were, but now, with a photo of the riverbank near the front door and an action shot of Cam, taken from the back as he chops firewood, positioned by the fireplace, everything’s tied together in a way that makes the cabin a perfectly serene getaway for anyone looking to enjoy a rustic vacation.

“I’ll take the interior photos of the cabin when you guys leave, and then I’ll head over to your house,” I tell Jules when we’re done hanging the last of the frames.

Besides the two in the main room, there’s an image of the lake in the master bedroom and a picture from my hike with Jules in the guest room.

She wipes her hands against her jean shorts. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’ll be over for dinner. Oh, and Cam washed your car. It’s ready for your trip back.”

My eyes prick with thankful tears, the love from my family flooding me. “Thank you,” I say, “He didn’t have to do that.”

“He knows that.” She squeezes my shoulder. “And Mom and Dad are still good with taking your rental back to the airport tomorrow on their way out of town.”

Mom and Dad stayed to see me one more time, but they’re moving on to their next big adventure, just like me.

Jules calls the boys and gathers them into her car. When they’re gone, I take a moment to enjoy the silence. My mind feels empty, quiet of all the dark thoughts that typically scream at me when I’m alone. I close my eyes, breathing in the mountain air and the scent of wood and leather. I feel peace here, and I already can’t wait to come back.