As it got dark fully, Ty pushed to his feet. Sam started to follow him, but I shook my head, whispering, “Your dad needs to do this on his own.”
“What?”
“Say goodbye.”
Sam tilted his head, puzzled, but he stayed on my lap, tracking Ty’s movements through the crowd. When he came back to our blanket, he had a bottle rocket in his hand, and as I’d suggested the night before, there was a piece of paper taped around it. I didn’t ask to read his final words to Diana; those were for him alone, but I knew there would be the apology he couldn’t speak in person, because she didn’t want to be found, and a wish for her to find joy in her work and peace in the decision to leave everything behind.
Without looking at us, Ty took a deep breath and lit the fuse, then he planted the bottle rocket in the ground. When it shot upward in an arc of spitting orange light, Sam’s eyes widened. It exploded overhead in a crackle of light, and bits of charred paper fluttered down like Christmas in July. Deep in my heart, I hoped that maybe Diana felt it, somehow, and she knew she was truly free.
No regrets.
Watching the scraps of paper drift to earth, I thought about Max. Connections were everywhere, binding people together. If not for him writing about Lauren, I never would’ve written down how I felt about Ty, never would’ve shown him my soul, scribbled out in ink. And Ty would never have purged Diana from his conscience. Someday, he might even think of her without ugliness being the first thing on his mind.
I glanced over at Lauren and started because she was resting, ever so slightly, against my brother. He reached for her instinctively when she leaned in, his arm possessive around her shoulders. I had a hundred questions, and as if she sensed me staring, she glanced over. Her eyes widened, but I just smiled. Whatever that was, she’d tell me when she felt ready.
Lauren smiled back and mouthed, Thank you.
On the other side, my parents were curled up together, waiting for the fireworks. It was impossible for me to imagine anything more wonderful, but then, Ty came back. He wrapped an arm about me; and in that instant, the heavens cracked open in cascades of wonder, brightness blazing in kaleidoscopic shapes that made Sam bounce with excitement. Beneath the booms and pops of each new formation, I rested my head against Ty’s shoulder.
“I love you.”
I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Ty whispered the words back to me. He kissed my cheek and then Sam’s head, touching us as if we were all he needed in the world, his sun and stars sharing a quilt with him. Contentment radiated from him in a way I’d never known—and my heart burst with fireworks, spilling colors like the sky.
THE EVER AFTER
I guess you’ve figured it out by now; I tricked you. There is, in fact, a happy ending. But if you’d known that my story became our story because I made a choice, would you have read until the end? People are fascinated by dark things, broken things, damaged things. You wanted to learn the exact moment it splintered apart, but would you have been as interested in watching me put the pieces back together, if you’d known? I wonder.
Because what I said before about the telling of stories, his and hers, and the unspoken question about staying together? That’s the real choice. And it’s a battle, every single day, to make the center hold. When I chose this, I didn’t expect it to be easy. It’s a battle I’m determined to win, and the prize is Ty’s love.
A year after meeting him, I moved into the apartment downstairs.
If anyone had told me, before, that I’d weigh my options and decide to become a mom at twenty-two, I wouldn’t have believed them. Occasionally it sucks, especially when Sam wakes us early, but then he’s rolling around and I’m tickling him, and he’s smiling so damn bright. The other day he called me Momiya, and it made me so happy, I almost cried. Ty doesn’t look so tired anymore; he doesn’t even call himself a grumpy ass**le these days. Because I’m here, shouldering half the weight.
It’s worth it because I’m part of their lives, every morning and every night, every Sunday afternoon in the park, pushing Sam on the swings. I make hot dog casserole, read Goodnight Moon and play trucks before bed, even when I have projects of my own. Because I’m one of two people in the world who makes Sam’s face light up like a sunbeam, and I cherish that, even when I’m exhausted. Even then.
Like Ty, I work full-time, taking classes at night. I’ll achieve my dreams. In time. My dad’s still out there, trying to beat the odds. So am I. Life is messy and unpredictable; sometimes it’s a punch in the gut, and sometimes it’s so beautiful, it brings tears to my eyes. Life isn’t a fairy tale. It’s work, sand in your shoes and a sick kid at five in the morning. Sometimes you meet your partner too soon, but love persuades you to leap, trusting that he’ll catch you. Life is real and it’s right now. Life is fireflies in your palm, gleaming gold, and then setting them free. In the best moments, life is fireworks. Sometimes life is having the rug pulled out from under you and the one you love helping you up. But most of all, life is what happens when you open the door and let beauty in, even if it doesn’t fit according to your plans.
And my life? Is the one I’ve built with Ty and Sam. Us, together? Yep. I want it that way.