Chapter 12: Opening Day
1065 Words
Sunlight spilled into the cabin through tall windows, bouncing golden beams across the hardwood floor. Becca stirred beneath the warm morning sun and sighed contentedly as she felt Craig’s arm slung around her waist.
She just listened. The birds. The wind whispering through the pine trees. His heart beating underneath her cheek.
She smiled.
Not anymore.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Becca didn’t feel afraid when she opened her eyes.
Craig shifted behind her, humming as he kissed her forehead.
“Morning, Mrs. Walker.”
She giggled softly. “I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say that.”
“I hope not.” He kissed her nose and shoulder, trailing his lips down her neck before finally settling between her breasts.
They lingered in bed for a while after that, both reluctant to leave the warmth of tangled sheets. Their honeymoon had been perfect. Small hikes through the woods, nights spent by the lake, fishing from the dock, long talks beneath a canopy of stars. Everything they could have ever asked for… including the feeling that they were exactly where they were meant to be.
Now it was time to return to reality.
Real life awaited them back in Willow Creek.
Craig went back to work soon after returning from their trip, but he made sure never to lose himself in it as he had before. Every evening was Becca’s.
Becca began painting again after they returned home. She’d nearly given it up during the hardest years of her struggle. Craig gave her the spare bedroom to use as a studio. She covered the walls with light-colored canvas so she could paint during the day. Her biggest supplier? Natural sunlight streaming through south-facing windows.
On one Saturday morning, Craig entered her studio with a cup of tea in hand.
“I have a proposition for you.”
She grinned at him, leaning back against her pillows. “Does your face ever c***k that smile when you’re trying to tell me bad news?”
He rolled his eyes, but she could see the smile behind his mock annoyance.
“What if we hosted our own art showing? Right here in Willow Creek.”
She blinked at him. “You mean… sell my paintings?”
“Of course.” He sat down beside her and squeezed her thigh gently. “Why wouldn’t anyone want to buy your paintings?”
Becca sighed and rolled over so she was facing him. “Because, Craig Montgomery, no one will care about my paintings the way you do.”
He got up and knelt between her legs, cupping her face in his hands.
“For years, I watched you listen to that voice in your head. That voice that whispered you weren’t enough for me, for this.” He shook his head so gently she hardly felt it. “I’m not letting him talk to you anymore.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, tracing familiar lines on her cheeks.
“I want people to know what hope looks like.” He pressed his lips against her firmly. “That it exists.”
It took him exactly one month to fill the community center with townsfolk.
Every inch of wall space was covered in Becca’s paintings.
Forest landscapes.
Sunsets.
Mountain vistas.
Fields of wildflowers.
There was even one painting simply titled ‘Home.’
It depicted two rocking chairs on a wooden cabin porch overlooking a peaceful mountain lake. Above the scene was a sky littered with bright stars.
Craig smiled as he recognized where she’d painted it.
The place where they’d told each other they’d never let go.
Guests slowly filtered into the crowded room throughout the day. As people browsed the small collection of paintings hung around the perimeter, several sold.
Becca still didn’t believe it when it happened.
“You did this.” She whispered, staring into Craig’s eyes.
He shook his head no.
“No.” He pulled her hand from her lap and held it between both of his. “You did this.”
That night, after the art show had cleared out and the room was silent, they sat on their own porch watching the sunset bleed over the mountaintops.
Craig draped an arm over her shoulder. “Ever think about how much we went through to get here?”
“Sometimes.” She snuggled closer to his side. “Sometimes.”
“And?”
Becca shrugged against his chest. “I don’t regret any of it.”
He frowned softly. She reached up and covered his fingers with her other hand.
“But you know what?” She pressed a finger against his lips.
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to change a single bit of it.”
“That’s our girl.” He kissed her temple.
“I think…” She trailed off, letting the silence fill the space between them.
He kissed her shoulder.
“I think this is just the beginning for us, Becca.”
She looked towards the west as the sun slipped below the mountains, tinting the clouds gold and pink.
For most of her life, she’d thought that life happened to her.
But now?
Now she was seeing things differently.
Life was something she got to experience.
“Hey.” He pulled her tighter against his side.
“What?” She glanced over at him and was met with the softest green eyes she’d ever seen.
“All of this.” He waved his hands around, capturing the small portion of the world they could see from their porch. “I think it’s happening for us.”
Becca knew someday their children would walk through that door, spilling out onto the porch with laughter and questions about where Mommy and Daddy went.
She knew that someday they’d fill that bedroom upstairs with baby giggles and blankets instead of paintbrushes and canvases.
Most of life was filled with ordinary days.
Days spent drinking coffee on the back porch.
Sharing laughter in the kitchen.
Taking long walks beneath sparkling stars.
Simple, everyday moments.
Moments that became anything but ordinary when you spent them with the person you loved.
As Craig laced his fingers through hers, Becca understood that happily ever after wasn’t one single moment.
It was a thousand tiny, ordinary days filled with choosing each other.
Repeatedly and over again.
- Writer
