Lucy smiled, my heart expanded, and then I headed to Professor Oliver’s office.

He sat at his desk reading the newest chapters I’d presented to him, and I waited impatiently as his eyes darted back and forth. “I took out the lion,” I told him.

“Shh!” he ordered, going back to reading. Every now and then he made facial expressions as he flipped the pages, but mostly, nothing. “Well,” he said, finishing and placing the papers down. “You didn’t have sex?”

“No.”

“And no cocaine?”

“Nope.”

“Well.” He sat back in his chair in disbelief. “That’s shocking, because whatever it is that made you step up your game, it’s mind-blowing. This…” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is the best work you’ve ever written.”

“Are you shitting me?” I asked with a knot in my stomach.

“I shit you not. Best thing I’ve read in years. What changed?”

I shrugged my shoulders and stood up from the chair. “I started gardening.”

“Ah.” He smiled knowingly. “Lucy Palmer happened.”

“So, Karla, I owe you fifty dollars,” Oliver stated, coming to the dining room table for brunch after we finished talking shop in his office. He straightened his tie and sat down at the head of the table. “You were right about Graham—he still knows how to write. Turns out he’s not a twenty-seven-book wonder.”

Lucy chuckled, and it sounded beautiful. “You bet against Graham’s words?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you read his last draft?!”

She grimaced. “What was the deal with the lion?”

“I know, right!” he hollered, nodding in agreement. “That freaking lion!”

“Okay, okay, we get it, I suck. Can we move on with the conversation?” I asked.

Lucy nudged me in the arm. “But the lion.”

“It was hideous,” Professor Oliver agreed.

“Poorly written.”

“Weird.”

“Odd.”

“Complete trash,” the two said in unison.

I rolled my eyes. “My God, Lucille, you’re like the female version of Oliver—my worst nightmare.”

“Or your favorite dream come true,” Professor Oliver mocked, wiggling his eyebrows in a knowing way. What he knew—hell if I could tell. He reached across the table for bacon, and Karla slapped his hand.

“Dad, no.”

He groaned, and I welcomed the change in subject. “A few pieces of bacon won’t kill me, darling. Plus, it’s a holiday.”

“Yeah, well, your heart doesn’t know it’s a holiday, so keep to the turkey bacon Mom made for you.”

He grimaced. “That’s not bacon.” He smiled over at Lucy and shrugged his shoulders. “You have a mini heart attack once and three minor heart surgeries, and people take that stuff so seriously for the rest of your life,” he joked.

Mary smiled over at her husband and patted his hand with hers. “Call us overprotective, but we just want you around forever. If that includes you hating us for forcing you to eat turkey bacon”—she put three strips onto his plate—“so be it.”

“Touché, touché.” Professor Oliver nodded, biting into the non-bacon bacon. “I can’t really blame you all. I’d want to be forever surrounded by me, too.”

We spent the rest of brunch laughing with one another, exchanging embarrassing stories, and sharing memories. Lucy listened to everyone’s words with such grace, asking questions, wanting more details, fully engaging in the conversations. I adored that about her, how she was such a people person. She made every room fill with light whenever she entered the space.

“Lucy, we’re so happy you joined us today. Your smile is contagious,” Mary said as we finished up the afternoon. We all sat at the dining room table, stuffed and enjoying the good company.

Lucy smiled wide and smoothed out her dress. “This has truly been amazing. I would’ve just been sitting at home lonely.” She laughed.

“You don’t normally spend holidays alone, do you?” Karla questioned with a frown.

“Oh, no. I’m always with my sister, but this year an old friend of hers is back in the States for such a short period of time, so she went to visit her. Normally Mari and I go up to a friend’s cabin to visit my mother’s tree every holiday.”

“Her tree?” Susie asked.

“Yeah. After my mom passed away years ago, we planted a tree to honor her memory, taking a life and making it grow, even after death. So, each holiday we go, eat licorice—Mama’s favorite candy—and sit around the tree, listening to music and breathing in the earth.”

“That’s so beautiful.” Karla sighed. She turned to Susie and slapped her in the arm. “When I die, will you plant a tree in my memory?”

“I’ll plant a beer—seems more fitting,” Susie replied.

Karla’s eyes widened and she leaned in to kiss Susie. “I’m going to marry you so hard in three months, woman.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with joy. “When are you two getting married?”

“Fourth of July weekend, the weekend we met,” Karla said, giddy. “We were going to wait until next year, but I can’t wait any longer.” She turned to Professor Oliver, smiling wide. “I just need my papa to walk me down the aisle and give me away to my love.”

“It’s going to be the best day,” Oliver replied, taking his daughter’s hand and kissing it. “Only second best to the day you officially became my daughter.”

My heart expanded even more.

“Well, if you need a florist, it’ll be my treat,” Lucy offered.

Susie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That would be amazing. Like, beyond amazing.”

If it weren’t for the love I saw between Professor Oliver and Mary, and the love between Karla and Susie, I would’ve been certain love was an urban legend, something made only for fairytale books.

But the way those people stared at one another, the way they loved so freely and loudly…

True, romantic love was real.

Even if I’d never been able to feel it for myself.