The Charm Bracelet(63)

“That’s why I play the trumpet,” Jake said. “It’s an important part of me that I need to express. That’s why you need to write again. It’s an important piece of you. It doesn’t matter if I ever play Carnegie Hall, but it matters that I let the world see me.”

He stopped and set down his sandwich, before standing and taking a seat next to Arden, their legs now pressed against each other.

“So many of my patients are haunted by the things they never did in life and the people they never became,” Jake said, looking into Lakeview. “They didn’t have the power to stand up for themselves, to battle their fears, to show the world who they really were, all those beautiful…”

“Dimensions?” Arden asked.

“Exactly.” Jake smiled. “The worst thing in the world is to have regrets. You will always have a few, but they shouldn’t be ones that keep you up at night.”

Jake stopped, and Arden knew instantly that he was going to kiss her. She could sense it, almost as clearly as she could smell the sweet, perfumed scent of the apple blossoms that filled the air.

Arden shut her eyes and let the moment sweep her away, images of a future life—season by season—pirouetting in her mind.

As their kiss ended, Arden put her hands on Jake’s face and looked tenderly in his eyes.

I can see myself with this man, she thought.

And then she laughed.

“That bad of a kiss, huh?” Jake asked. “I tend to have that effect on women.”

“No, no, no,” Arden said. “I’m sorry. I just noticed you still have a little circle around your lips from the mouthpiece of your trumpet when you played earlier.”

Jake touched his lip self-consciously.

“No, it’s cute. Really cute,” Arden said, before grabbing his face and kissing him again. “You have great lips.”

“So do you,” Jake whispered, grabbing her hand.

Arden put her head on his shoulder. “The apple blossoms smell so heavenly, don’t they?”

“They do,” Jake said. “That’s why they’re our state flower. And Michigan is one of the top apple producing states in the country.”

“You are a person of many dimensions,” Arden said.

“You are, too,” he replied. “Hey? Can I ask you a question?”

Arden lifted her head. “Sure. Anything.”

“Why did you request ‘Let It Snow’?”

Arden smiled and tugged nervously at her earlobe.

“There’s no need for that, Ms. Burnett,” Jake joked. “Just tell me.”

Arden tightened her grip on Jake’s hand and then told him the story of her mother, her own fears, and the snowflake charm.

“She’s right,” he said, when she finished. “We just want you to be the best, most well-rounded person you can be in this world. A whole person is a happy person.”

“That sounds like a bumper sticker.” Arden laughed.

“I just want you to be ‘muchier,’” Jake said softly, pulling Arden in for another kiss, the wind knocking a few delicately colored cherry pink and white petals off the trees, as if the two were kissing in a snowfall of blossoms.





Thirty-three




Arden’s fingers hovered over her cell phone. She was having trouble hitting SEND.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Lolly asked, walking in from her afternoon at work, dressed in a bright purple sequined Dolly gown. “Jake is teaching me a lot about technology. All you have to do is…”

“I know how to send an email, Mom.” Arden laughed, thinking of her “date” earlier with Jake.

He’s teaching me a lot, too, Arden thought.

“It’s a work email,” Arden explained. “I’m trying to tell my boss to stop bothering me while I’m gone … and that I want to write for the magazine.”

“Good for you!” Lolly said. “I’m so proud of you!”

Lolly’s face beamed with pride, and she took a seat next to her daughter on the glider, her sequins announcing her every move.

Arden looked at her mom, smiled, and then hit SEND, giving a squeal of nervous excitement after her cell had sounded its exit.

“No matter what,” Lolly said, nodding her head toward the lawn, “you’re fighting for what you want, just like you did during that snowball fight so long ago. Remember?”

Arden’s eyes widened at her mother’s clarity and intuition.

It’s like she can read my mind, Arden thought.

“I do,” she said, smiling, hugging her mom before giving the glider a gentle push with her feet.

“Wheeee!” Lolly said.

Before the glider had stopped swinging, Arden’s cell trilled.

“Simóne’s doing a GREAT job filling in for you,” Van replied.

What a jackass. No “Have a good time, you deserve it,” or “How’s your mom?” Not even a “Let’s talk when you get back after your vacation.” Just a thinly veiled threat, Arden thought, annoyed.

Lolly patted her daughter’s leg. “You don’t need anyone’s permission to be who you dream of being. You are here—right here—because of the journey you took.”