Unfurl (28 page)
“I hope you like it,” he murmured.
Curious, I lifted the lid. Nestled inside, on a cottony bed, sat a twist of silver fashioned into a willow leaf that curled back around on itself. It was a ring.
I stared at its perfect replication of the leaves I knew so well from back home. From mornings spent with Will running at my side.
Swish, swish, swish
as we passed the stand of willow trees.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
I could hear the worry in his voice.
“Mick said I had no business giving a ring to a girl who was just my friend, and that’s all we were on Christmas, but now, I thought—”
I stopped his mouth with mine, pulling back just before I started rippling.
“It’s perfect,” I murmured.
“Really? Because I could get you something else. Yesterday was Valentine’s. I could get, you know, chocolate or whatever.”
“Yesterday was Valentine’s Day?” I asked.
“Uh–huh,” he said. “We were a little busy.”
“Then we have lost time to make up for,” I said.
I kissed him again, a tiny hush of a kiss.
“And Will? About the ring? I love it.”
“You do?”
I smiled. “I do.”
THE END
Many people have contributed to make this book, and this series, a possibility. In addition to those I have acknowledged in earlier books, I am grateful to Natalie, Susan, Chelsea, Araina, and Kris, and to Sarah and the Women’s Night Out Book Group in Eugene, Oregon. Your passion for my stories has been very heartwarming!
To my teen groupies, Rachael, Kate, Isabel, Toby, Misha, and Madeleine: your enthusiasm has meant more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for loving Sam+Will.
I’m grateful to Chris and Jacob, who, between them, make my book readable and pretty when combined with the artistry of Claudia at phatpuppyart.com.
An additional thank you to my family members for putting up with me as I burned dinners, forgot to pick you up from events, and otherwise put mothering off to one side in order to talk with my imaginary friends. You are all way more supportive and wonderful than I deserve.
Author’s Note
Regarding Catholicism: I am not myself Catholic. When I was little, I was so jealous of the Silva kids down the street who got to go to catechism class. They explained it was like school. I loved school. It was unfair that they got EXTRA SCHOOL and I didn’t! Perhaps all the research I’ve done this past year in regard to being Catholic has been a way of making up for missing catechism. All that to say, any errors of commission or omission regarding Catholicism are unintentional and are mine alone.
If you are interested in the grim history of the Eugenics movement in the United States during the early twentieth century, a quick internet search will provide ample returns upon the subject.
To cheer yourself up after, I recommend spending some time viewing Chagall’s paintings, mosaics, and glass–work. His autobiography also makes fascinating reading.
Occitan is a real language, little spoken today, but full of pithy and droll sayings. Rippler’s Syndrome, on the other hand, is not a real disease, to the best of my knowledge.
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Unfurl
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Table of Contents
THE TIME FOR SECRETS IS PASSING
Table of Contents