Grace pulled her sister into a tight hug. “It was perfect. Every second was absolutely perfect.”

“She’s right. You were made for this,” I commented. Judy smiled and thanked me.

“Oh! Have you been by your old place yet? I’d love to know your thoughts,” Judy commented. I raised an eyebrow, and she turned to Grace. “You didn’t tell him?”

“I thought it would be best to show him,” Grace replied.

“Show me what?”

The two girls grinned ear to ear and gave me those doe eyes. “You’ll see,” they said in unison.

We headed over toward the place I once called home, and I was stunned when I saw Dad’s house, the shop, and the cabin were completely gone. Instead, there were trails going through the land. There were beautiful flowers throughout the space, and a small playground where children were playing, making a ton of noise.

“You turned it into a park?” I asked, somewhat stunned.

“Yeah, and we named it after someone close to you,” Grace commented, pointing at a sign. I looked in the direction. Tucker’s Park. “I figured there are enough dogs running through the area that they could use a place to come play. So we made a few paths to the open land in the way back. Come on, let us show you.”

We walked down one of the paths to the open land where both Tucker and my mother were buried. Their burials were guarded with a gate, and there was a sign that read, In Loving Memory.

Owners were walking their dogs and playing fetch with them, and I could feel the happiness running through the area. It was beyond amazing.

My heart soared as I looked past the memorial to a building in the background. It was new to me, but I knew exactly what it was when I saw it.

“You built my mother’s art studio?” I asked, my voice cracking as I read the sign over the door. It was created with Dad’s auto shop sign, but it now read, Hannah’s Paint Shop.

Grace’s hand landed on my arm. “Is it okay?” she asked concerned. “I just thought…”

I cut her off as my lips fell to hers.

In a way, it was as if my mother was alive that day.

“We teach art classes there,” Judy remarked. “The kids love it. Sometimes we sit outside and paint the sunsets at night.”

“That’s amazing,” I stated, still stunned. “That’s beyond amazing.”

“If you’re ever in town and want to teach a class, we’d love to have you.” Judy smiled and nudged her sister in the arm. “Grace, how about you go show him the studio? It’s closed right now, so you two can look around in peace.”

“Of course, come on.” She took my hand in hers, and we headed to the art studio, and we walked inside.

It was beautiful. Against the walls were some of Ma’s artwork that I hadn’t even seen. “Where did you get this stuff?” I asked.

“We found it in your father’s basement, and he told us we could use it. I thought it would be a nice touch. I also studied some of her earlier work and figured charcoal drawings might be great for the younger kids. And in the back room, we have an open canvas each Saturday night where people can toss paint around like crazy. They call it the Jackson Pollock room, but I prefer calling it Jackson Emery, obviously.” She went on and on about the space, and the way it excited me made my heart soar. As she was speaking fast, she caught herself and then slowed down her words. She frowned a bit. “Is this all okay? I just thought—”

I cut her off again with a kiss.

“Marry me,” I whispered as my lips lay against hers.

She gently laughed, thinking I was joking at first, then she pulled back a little and looked me in the eyes. She slightly tilted her head. “Marry you?”

“Yes. Marry me, Gracelyn Mae.”

Her fingers landed against my chest. She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, grazing her lips over mine. “I’ll marry you.”

54

Jackson

One Year Later

“You look good, man,” Alex remarked, straightening out my tie. “But I’m gonna need you to stop sweating through your suit.”

I couldn’t help it. I was a case of nerves as I prepared to walk down the aisle toward the woman of my dreams. I didn’t know days like today could exist. I didn’t know I could be so happy.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted for you, Jackson,” Alex stated, patting me on the shoulder. “You to be happy.”

“Me too,” a voice said from the doorway. I looked up to see Dad standing there in his own suit and tie. He looked healthy—something I thought I’d never be able to say again. Ever since rehab, he’d found his footing. Not without a few slip-ups, but with every fall, he got back up. And when he stumbled, I’d help him walk.