Chapter 15

Lynette Hamilton was a hugger. Big hugs. Squeezing hugs. Hugs followed by more hugs. By the end of dinner our first night in Bristol, any insecurities I might have felt about meeting Jamie’s parents had been hugged right into oblivion.

Katie dropped onto the living room sofa beside me. “I promise she eases up with the hugging once she gets to know you.”

I laughed. “I don’t mind. It’s nice feeling so accepted.”

“True,” Katie said. “As far as in-laws go, I think we’ve gotten really lucky. Oh, I mean, sorry. I just totally presumed. Things are headed that way though, right? It seems like they are.”

Good question. Things had been good in the weeks since our birthday date. Better than ever before. But as quickly as my doubt had dissipated, as soon as we were back at home and into our regular routine, they popped right back up again. I really wanted our relationship to feel right. But it was like there was a tiny sliver of wrong I couldn’t ignore. A splinter in my foot that I couldn’t necessarily see but could definitely feel.

“How quickly did you know with Dave?” I asked.

She scrunched her eyebrows. “I don’t know. Dave didn’t propose until our one-year anniversary, which is probably a little longer than I needed to know, but he wanted to be sure.”

“A year? My parents were engaged in three weeks.”

“Wow. I was nowhere near sure three weeks in. Funny how couples are all different.”

Yeah. Funny but also encouraging. Because I didn’t have to be sure right now. It made it a lot easier to feel okay about ignoring a splinter.

Jamie’s mom stuck her head into the living room. “We’re cutting the cake. You girls want to come have a slice?”

“Lane wants cake,” Jamie called from the kitchen. “Always offer the cake!”

I smiled. “He knows me so well.”

* * *

“Okay. Here’s how it’s going to go.” Jamie shifted his bike around so he was facing the group. “We’re divided into teams of two. Mom and Dad, me and Lane, Dave and Katie, and Cooper and Simon. Just like in a high school cross country meet, the place that each person finishes becomes their score. We’ll add up the combined score of each team, and the lowest number wins the day.”

I glanced sideways at Cooper, who sat on his bike beside me, and raised my eyebrows. “Is he serious?”

Cooper nodded. “Oh, he’s serious. All the brochures and travel guides in the world call the Virginia Creeper a leisurely, low-key bike trail through the mountains, but that doesn’t matter to Jamie. We’re riding? That means we’re racing.”

“He’s always been this way,” Dave said. “Growing up, everything was a race.”

“Walking through the mall,” Cooper said.

“Finishing homework,” Dave added.

“Saturday chores,” Cooper said.

“Even passing the sacrament around the chapel on Sundays,” Dave said. “He always tried to hit the back pew first.”

The idea of an impatient, twelve-year-old Jamie hurrying people through the sacrament bread and water so he could be first to finish almost made me laugh out loud. “Suddenly the intensity of our soccer games makes perfect sense.”

“Lane!” Jamie called from the front of the group. “You’re with me.”

It had been awhile since I’d been on a bike, but I’d been told the Virginia Creeper really was a leisurely, low-key bike trail, so I wasn’t too worried about it. I’d seen two other groups start out since we’d hit the top of the trail that had had small kids in wagons pulled behind their parents’ bikes, so if they could handle it, surely I could too. I waved and rode my bike up to where he stood waiting for me.

“Here’s the game plan,” he said. He was adorable when he was fired up. “We’ll try and stay together as long as we can, but if something happens and we get separated, whoever’s in the front needs to pull ahead. The faster that person finishes, the less it’ll matter if the person in the back gets held up. Got it?”

“So basically, if you fall off your bike and break your arm, you’re telling me not to stop and help but keep going so we can win.”

He leaned over and kissed me, turning his head completely sideways so our bike helmets didn’t bump. “You’re speaking my language, baby.”

“What if I get a flat tire? I have no idea how to change a tire on a bike.”

He blew out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess if you get a flat tire, I’ll stop and help you.”

I laughed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Even though we were technically racing, it was impossible for the race to be too cutthroat. The trail was full of families and other groups, older couples, little kids. We were constantly navigating our way through and around other cyclists. Which was fine with me. It was a gorgeous trail, especially in October. The normally green forest was rich with bright oranges, reds, and yellows. I had to resist the urge to climb off my bike and gather up the prettiest leaves. Even better, the weather had finally started to turn, and a slight chill filled the air. The day felt crisp and clean and vibrant and totally worth slowing down to look around a little.

Over cake the night before, I’d fielded question after question from Jamie’s dad. He reminded me a lot of Simon. He had an easy way of conversing and a genuineness that put me immediately at ease. And it was his blue eyes that Simon had inherited. The rest of the brothers all had their mother’s brown eyes. We’d talked about basketball—he’d been a student the years my dad had played on BYU’s team—and about Puerto Rico. Both parents served Spanish-speaking missions, as did Simon, so it was fun to hear the three of them break out their very rusty Spanish.

It was the first time in months the family had all been together, so Katie and I also spent a lot of time watching the brothers interact with their parents. They were gentler around their mother than when it was just the four of them back in Chapel Hill. It made it easier to see their regard for one another—and their unabashed loyalty to their family.

I asked Jamie that night before settling into the basement bedroom I was sharing with Katie if the brothers had ever fought over girls when they were growing up. He’d answered immediately and with firm conviction. “Never,” he had said. “I dated the more sporty girls.” He gave my shoulder a nudge. “Dave did too, but he was more cheerleader, while I was more soccer/swimmer/runner. Simon was old enough we didn’t really care about who he dated, but I’m guessing they were all boring and bookish so it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

“Bookish girls are boring? I’m a bookish girl.”

“But you’re also a sporty girl,” he said. “That saves you.”

There was the splinter. Fine. I was a sporty girl. But I didn’t love that Jamie didn’t acknowledge much beyond that.

He slowed his bike in front of me. We’d been alone on the trail for a couple of minutes, no one in sight ahead or behind. “Did you see that?” Jamie asked. “She ran completely off the trail.”

“She who?” I asked. “I didn’t see anything.”

Seconds later, a pink helmet popped up out of the brush. The rest of the girl—probably no older than nine or ten—emerged, tugging her bike back toward the trail.

I stopped in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She yanked at her handle bars. “Stupid bike. I think the chain came loose.”

“Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“I don’t think so.” She looked at her hands, then brushed some leaves off her knees. “The ground was pretty soft where I hit.”

I dismounted and leaned my bike against a tree so I could help her get hers back on the trail. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded.

“Are you riding with your family?” Jamie asked.

“I raced out ahead,” she said with a sniff. “But they should be coming soon.”

“Probably that couple we passed awhile back,” Jamie said. “Does your dad have a kid seat on his bike?”

Another nod. “That’s my baby brother, Benjamin.”

“That was longer than a few minutes,” I said. “You must have really raced ahead.”

“Benjamin was making them go so slow,” she said, her final words full of dramatic emphasis. “And I am super fast. I couldn’t help it.”

“What do you say I help you get your chain back on?” I said. “My name’s Lane.”

“Ivy,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I gestured toward the trail. “Hey,” I said to Jamie. “You go ahead. I’ll wait with her till her parents show up.”

“I’ll help with the chain first,” he said.

“I don’t need to wait for my parents,” Ivy said. “I can ride by myself.”

“You know what?” I handed her bike over to Jamie, who had it fixed in a matter of seconds. “I’m sure you can. But I’m guessing your parents are really worried about you. I think we better wait for them. Just so they know you’re safe.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

“Go on.” I urged Jamie again. “Dave and Katie are only a few minutes back. I’ll catch up as soon as Ivy is back with her parents.”

“You sure?”

“Seriously? You tell me this is leave-me-in-the-ditch-with-a-broken-arm level racing, but you’re worried about leaving me now? I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Go keep our lead.”

He grinned and climbed back onto his bike. “You’re my favorite.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Ivy asked as we watched him pedal away.

“Yep. His name is Jamie.”

“My mom says I’m too young to have a boyfriend. There’s a boy at school who likes me, but he told me not to tell anybody so I don’t think he really counts.”

I chuckled. “Probably not.”

A few more minutes and Dave and Katie breezed by, followed closely by Jamie’s parents and Cooper. That left only Simon still behind me. Fantastic. Cooper waved from the trail, slowing down long enough to shout a hurried, “You okay?”

I waved him on. “Totally fine. I’ll be riding again in a minute.”

“There’s my mom,” Ivy said. She waved both her arms over her head.

“Ivy Grace.” The woman pulled up to a stop in front of us. “If you ever ride off like that again, I swear . . .”

“She took a little bit of a tumble,” I said. “Her chain came off, but we’ve got it fixed now. I don’t think she was hurt.”

“Lane wouldn’t let me ride until you caught up,” Ivy said.

Her mom looked at me, eyes wide, and mouthed a silent “thank you,” then turned her attention back to Ivy. “I think Lane must be really smart. I know you want to ride fast, Ivy, but you have to stay with me and your dad, kid. It’s either that, or we stop right now and walk the rest of the way.”

“According to my map,” I said, “that’s about twelve more miles.”

“That’s a long way to walk,” Ivy’s mom said.

Ivy huffed, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Fine. I won’t ride ahead. But can we please try and ride a little faster?”

A man pulled up beside us. Ivy’s dad, I presumed, based on the baby seat attached to his bike. “You found her.”

“Our friend Lane here helped her after a fall and wouldn’t let her leave till we showed up.”

“The hero of the day, then,” the dad said.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “I just didn’t want her to be alone.”

“Thanks again,” the mom said. “Ivy, ready to go? If you promise not to speed off, we’ll let you lead the pack.”

She wheeled her bike up to the front. “I promise.” She turned back and waved at me. “Bye, Lane.”

“Bye!” I watched them ride off, giving them a little bit of space before I started back up myself. Not that it mattered. Not ten feet after I started pedaling, my back tire started shaking so badly I had to stop riding again. I pulled over to the side of the trail and bent down to look at the tire to see if I could tell what was wrong.

“You okay?”

I turned and saw Simon approaching.

“The tire’s shaking. I don’t know what’s wrong.” Seconds later, a loud bang sounded close to my head. I jumped back and fell into the dirt. “What was that?”

Simon climbed off his bike. “That was your tire.”

“Are you serious? What on earth happened?”

He leaned down and looked at the back wheel. “Hard to say. Sometimes they just blow.”

“Can you fix it?”

He nodded, then retrieved the repair kit off the back of his bike. “I’ve got a spare tube.” He stood my bike up. “Here. Can you hold this up?”

I took the bike. Something was up with Simon. He seemed . . . annoyed. Testy. So not like his usual chill self. “Where’s Jamie?”

“He’s up ahead. We got split up.”

Simon stopped and looked at me, frustration creasing his eyebrows. “I know he’s competitive, but he left you behind on the trail?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I stopped to help this girl, and we didn’t both need to be there. I told him to go ahead.”

“Just because you told him to doesn’t mean he should have.” His shoulders were tense, the veins in his arms standing out as he crouched down and wrestled the new tube into the tire. He literally looked like he wanted to break something. “I mean, there’s friendly competition and then there’s downright rudeness. Sometimes I wonder where Jamie actually falls.”

Something big was going on inside Simon’s brain. That much was perfectly clear. I’d never seen him so perturbed. I reached out and touched his arm. “Simon.”

He stilled under my touch, his jaw clenched.

“What’s wrong?”

He sank back onto his heels, stewing in silence for a long moment before finally shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Forget what I said, all right?”

“I don’t care about what you said. I want to know if you’re okay.”

He kept his eyes down as he continued to work on the bike. “It doesn’t matter.” He pulled out a CO2 compressor and filled the replacement bike tube, then shoved everything back into the repair kit. “There.” His words were sharp, each syllable punching the air with its own tiny burst of force. “Now it’s fixed, and you and Jamie can ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.” The disdain in his voice was almost tangible.

“Simon. Stop and tell me what’s wrong.”

He turned his back, running his hands over his face before resting them on his hips. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath, his entire body rigid with anger I had no way of explaining. Finally, he gave his head another weary shake, turning only enough for me to hear his voice. “I’m sorry, Lane. This isn’t your fault. Just . . . bad timing. Please forget I said anything. Your bike is good to go.”

I took a step forward, wanting to reach out, touch him again, do something to ease the tension in his face. I wanted to fix him. Make him feel better. Make whatever was wrecking his insides disappear as quickly as humanly possible. But Simon wasn’t mine to fix, and remembering as much gave me pause.

I stopped in my tracks, wrapping my arms around myself, my hands tucked under my arms—my only defense against any errant touching. “I’m not leaving you like this. Not unless you tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed, seeming to consider. Finally, he reached for his phone and scrolled through a couple of screens before handing it over. “We’ve been out of cell range for a while, but a few miles back, there was coverage enough for this to come through. Go ahead. Press play.”

It was a voice mail from Karen. I raised my eyebrows, my finger hesitating over the Play button.

“You said you wanted to know why I was angry,” Simon said. “Just listen.”

My stomach sank as the message started. Karen was British—something I hadn’t expected—her voice clear and deep with a lyrical quality that made me think I would have liked her had I met her in person. That was, until I listened to her words. That ended any trace of actual liking.

“Simon. I’m sorry I didn’t catch you in person. Listen. There’s been some stuff going on. Big stuff, really. And I know I should have talked to you sooner. It just never seemed like the time was right. We’ve been so remote, you know, with no cell service much of the time. Anyway, the thing is I’ve met someone. He’s one of the archeologists who came onto the dig last month, and well, after everything, I think he’s the one, and he says he feels the same, so we’ve decided to get married. I suppose we saw it coming, didn’t we? We both knew our relationship wasn’t going anywhere. So sorry, Simon. You deserve better than this, but, well, things happen, you know? I hope you can understand. Give my love to your family, and best of luck. I really do hope you’re well and happy.”

I lowered the phone from my ear and handed it back to Simon. “I’m really sorry, Simon.”

A group of riders approached from behind us. We moved over, scooting our bikes so we were completely out of the way. Simon leaned against the smooth bark of a birch tree, his earlier anger fully dissipated. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really,” he said. “Things have been . . . off, I guess, for so long. I just figured once she was home we might be able to work through stuff.”

“I can’t believe she broke up with you in a voice mail.”

He scoffed. “No joke.”

“And I can’t believe she didn’t tell you sooner. Dating someone is one thing, but engaged? That’s hard.”

“I’ve even talked to her,” he said. “Since she met him. We’ve talked, and she acted like nothing was up. That’s the hardest part. I’m telling her I love her while she’s . . .” He stared at the ground without speaking, and I found myself wishing, again, that I could reach out and comfort him in some way. I leaned against the same tree, our shoulders touching like two corners of a square. “Simon. Someone like that—she doesn’t deserve you. You’re such an amazing guy. You’re thoughtful, generous, kind. You see whole people. I think that’s what I like most about you—you don’t see labels or stereotypes; you just see people.” The truth of those words hit me hard. And not just because I felt like Simon hadn’t stereotyped me. I recognized it in his interactions with others too, in the way he spoke about people. He didn’t judge. “Some girl is going to be really lucky to be on the receiving end of all that.”

His mouth curved up into a regretful smile. “Not Karen though.”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “And that’s her loss.”

He took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you or said anything about your relationship with Jamie. That was . . . lame.”

“Don’t even worry about it. It’s already forgotten.”

He pushed off the tree. “I think we are officially in last and almost-last place.”

I groaned. “Don’t remind me. Jamie’s gonna wish he picked a different partner.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I doubt he’ll ever think that.” His eyes met mine, holding my gaze a second longer than necessary. I turned away, moving toward my bike, but his voice called me back. “Lane.”

I looked back, wishing he didn’t make my stomach feel knotted.

“Thank you for listening, and for . . . making me talk about it. It helped.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“And . . . thank you also for what you said. It’s maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s the truth.”

He took a giant step toward his bike—which felt very much like a giant step away from me—and cleared his throat. “Should we go? I promise I’ll let you take the lead.”

We didn’t see anyone else from the group until we hit the bottom of the trail. They were all sitting at the outdoor tables of an ice cream place, halfway through dessert, when we finally rolled in. Jamie looked from me to his brother and raised his eyebrows. I took off my bike helmet and dropped onto the bench beside him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He offered me a bite of his ice cream, which I gladly took.

“What happened?” he asked. “We were about to head back up the trail to look for you.”

“I blew a tire.”

“Did it pop?” Cooper asked. “I heard a bang and wondered if that’s what it was.”

I nodded. “Right in my face too. I nearly had a heart attack.” Simon settled on the bench across from us. “Luckily, Simon was still behind me when it happened. He had a spare tube and replaced it for me.”

“Hey, thanks, man.” Jamie gave his brother a high five. “I’m glad we restocked all the repair kits last night.”

“Not a problem,” Simon said. “Who ended up winning?”

“We did,” their parents said in unison. “First and second place right here, baby,” Lynette said. “All you young and tough boys can eat that for dinner.”

Dave tossed a napkin at his mother’s head. “Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

* * *

The rest of the weekend was more of the same. Lots of joking and laughter but also moments of tenderness that made me love the Hamilton family as a whole in serious ways. After church, I watched as each brother, throughout the afternoon, found a moment to sit down with Cooper individually. I don’t know what they talked about—advice, I guessed, from three former missionaries to a brand-new one—but whatever their words were, it was touching to see it. To recognize their regard for one another.

We drove home Monday morning, leaving Cooper behind for two final days with his parents before heading to the Missionary Training Center in Johannesburg. Time alone in the car with Jamie was much-needed relationship validation after the weird moment I’d had on the trail with Simon. Something had happened inside of me when Simon had suddenly become free of the protective bubble his relationship with Karen had provided. His official off-limits status had always made it much easier to dismiss any potential spark or connection or whatever it was that had happened when he’d looked at me like he’d looked at me on the trail. Now that was gone, which made being around him feel dangerous in ways I couldn’t explain. But Jamie was real. And he was mine. And though I’d voiced my misgivings to Randi about some facets of our relationship, we’d had a great time over the weekend. We were good together. Things had been really good.

Just across the Virginia/NC border, we stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts. “You want anything?” Jamie asked. “I was thinking some hot chocolate would be good.”

I stared. “Right now?” October was almost hot-chocolate weather, but it was still sixty-five degrees outside. I mean, yes, I drank hot chocolate year-round, but I was weird.

“Why not?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to try the hazelnut. I’ve heard it’s good.”

I smiled. “It’s my favorite.” See? Good together. No, not just good. We were great together.

Cooper: I’m signing off, brothers. I wish you all a good two years while I’m gone.

Dave: Same to you, little brother.

Simon: You’re going to be great, Cooper.

Jamie: Not as good as I was, but you’ll do.

Cooper: Know what I realized?

Cooper: You could ALL get married while I’m gone.

Dave: Pretty sure mine’s a done deal, bro. No could, just will.

Cooper: Well, yeah. And I’ve accepted that. But if Jamie marries Lane, and Simon marries Karen, then I will be a groomsman for NONE OF YOU. Dude. This is bad.

Jamie: Don’t worry. Karen and Simon are on the five-year plan. You’ll be back before they ever get hitched.

Dave: Ha. True.

Simon: Not true. Karen and I broke up.

Jamie: For real?

Simon: No. I’m kidding. You know I’m such the joking type.

Jamie: Sorry man. That’s terrible. What happened?

Simon: She’s engaged to someone else.

Dave: Ouch.

Cooper: Yeah. Awful. Why didn’t you say anything?

Simon: Just happened over the weekend. But, hey, on the bright side, Coop, you’ll probably be back in time to be my groomsman.

Jamie: Without Karen in the picture, you’ll probably be home and married before HE is.

Simon: Thanks for that, Jamie. Your vote of confidence means so much.

Jamie: Anytime, bro. You know I got your back.