Waiting for December, page 25
God, I love this woman.
“Come here,” I say, drawing her into my arms and kissing her softly, then smoothing down her hair with my hand.
“Don’t move,” I say. She eyes me curiously as I leave her side and walk to the tree. Crouching down, I retrieve a box beneath it.
All weekend I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to give her something I’ve worked on for weeks. I thought I’d give it to her in front of everybody, but something about this moment spurred me to want to give it to her now, when it’s just the two of us.
We’ve talked a lot about everything we went through last year, and in one of those conversations, we broke down the two times Harper told me she’d chosen me. The first time, once it clicked that I was the one, she waited for the perfect moment for hours. She held off as the feeling built up, until she was overwhelmed by that press of yes, now to say it. And the second time, she said she was frantic with the need to tell me, that it exploded out of her when she couldn’t contain it anymore. Right now, I feel a blend of the two.
She frowns when I hand it to her. “I thought we said we weren’t getting each other anything.”
We did say that. We bought gifts for our families but decided our gift to each other would be buying Harper’s parents their plane tickets so we could enjoy their company and they wouldn’t have to stress about pricey holiday travel fares.
“It’s not exactly a gift,” I say. “Open it.”
She continues to eye me as she peels back the wrapping paper, but once she finds the sheet of paper inside, her focus shifts, and I hear her breath catch. I watch her scan the page and I see tears fill her eyes as she reads the bucket list I wrote, one filled with twenty-five items for us to check off together . . . before becoming husband and wife.
Because the last item on the list she’s holding reads Marry Me.
I reach into my pocket for the ring, knowing I won’t have much time.
The ring I chose is simple and elegant. Harper won’t have to worry about it snagging on anything during our daily duties, and she won’t have to take it off when gardening, one of the many hobbies she’s picked up over the past year.
She decided that hobbies were a lot less pressure than passions and told me that’s what she’ll be sticking to from here on out. I’ve done my best to encourage every single one, helping her to be the most her that she can be. And she encourages me to be the most me I can be too.
I think that’s the true definition of a soul mate: someone who loves you for exactly who you are but also supports you in being the best you.
When her eyes seem to reach the bottom of the list, I drop to one knee. As soon as she looks down, I ask, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
No hesitation. No wait.
I jump to my feet and slide the ring on her finger, relieved that it fits perfectly. She kisses me right after in a mix of laughter, tears, and love.
I hold her close and tight as if she might slip through my fingers. After loss, that’s just what you do with the people you love who are still here. You appreciate them more. You love them harder than you knew was possible.
And as for the people who are gone . . . you continue to look for signs that they are still around. Right now, I can sense from a gut feeling that Brendan and Molly are watching. The same gut feeling that told me Harper might one day be my wife.
I felt it when I first spotted her dancing by herself in the parlor before we’d even had introductions. Then again, the morning after I told her about Brendan, when she’d had that look of complete determination on her face and demanded that we name the chickens. And then again, when my parents told me I could keep the inn and my only thought was that I couldn’t imagine running it without Harper.
I fell in love with Harper over a holiday season, and I would’ve waited for her as long as she asked me to wait.
When Harper and I finally break apart, I hear applause, and we both look over to the doorway, only to realize we’ve had an audience this whole time. Both sets of parents are watching.
They rush over and give us hugs, congratulating us and sharing in our excitement.
Christmas Day has arrived, our families are here, and Harper just agreed to be my wife. There’s nothing more to wait for.
Except happily ever after.
Yeah . . .
I like to think that’s what’s waiting for us next.
acknowledgements
THIS BOOK WOULD not be in your hands if it weren’t for Jordyn McCoy, my newest team member, who read this story week-by-week as I wrote it and gave instant feedback so that I stayed on course. Jordyn, getting to work with you has been a dream! I can’t thank you enough for your constant encouragement, never-ending ideas, and enthusiasm for my books.
I wrote Waiting for December mostly in coffee shops last holiday season alongside my good friend, Aliza Wilson. Aliza, I will always have the fondest memories of our #TeamJesse versus #TeamSky chats. Thank you for helping me with this plot, for letting me interrupt your work to brainstorm ideas when I was stuck, and for sharing in my excitement for the story.
Yet another champion of this book was my editor, Katrina Diaz Arnold, founder of Refine Editing. Katrina, each time I received an installment of your edits I couldn’t wait to open my email because I knew how much stronger you were making the story and was dying to see the improvements. Hearing the excitement in your voice over the phone as we talked through the edits also kept me going when the process got tough. Thank you for your feedback on how to improve this story! Thank you, Jaime Brockway, my copy editor, as well for your attention to detail and suggestions for improvement.
My mom and brother combed through this manuscript several times to help me nail down the timeline and catch any last errors. I know this was not a fun job. Thank you both for making the time!
Thank you also, Mom and Dad, for continuing to support my dream of writing stories and encouraging me to stick with this work on the hard days.
A few other people are always just a phone call away to remind me to keep going. Thank you: Chelsea Kovacevich, Ketara Alani, Christy Bittner, Olivia O’Connor, Aunt Leslie, Aunt Georgette, Aunt Betsy, Francine Kovacevich, and Casey Costello.
To all the book bloggers who read my first novel, Waiting at Hayden’s, your support helped me write this one. Thank you for encouraging me, for connecting with me, and for getting behind that story.
Meghan Krueger (@megreadsnovels), thank you for your thoughtful feedback on the novel I wrote before this one! It was invaluable and helped guide my decisions when writing Waiting for December. It’s been wonderful getting to know you too!
I almost lost the last draft of this manuscript when my computer crashed, but Clint and Monet helped resurrect the file. Thank you both for keeping me calm and working a miracle.
Rafael and everyone else at Formatting Experts, thanks for the beautiful interior of this book and being the best team in the industry. Thanks Ryan Selewicz for my author photo and for your never-ending support, Lindsey Kath for my cover illustration, Danielle Christopher for my cover design, and the entire team at Sullivan & Shea publishing!
During the pandemic I stumbled upon Instagram photos of Edson Hill in Stowe, Vermont and this became the inspired setting for the novel. Though I used my artistic license to make many changes to it, I always imagined my characters here. Thank you, Edson Hill, for providing the inspiration I needed. To all my readers, I hope you get to visit one day!
Many of the stores mentioned in the novel I’ve visited in person and if you plan a trip to Stowe yourself, I highly recommend wandering into The County Store on Main or Bear Pond Books, or any of the other charming shops and restaurants on Main Street. Please note, some of the stores mentioned including Milk & Maple do not exist and were created purely for the storyline.
To all the book clubs who read Waiting at Hayden’s and to each and every reader who picked up a copy of that story, or shared it, or talked about it with friends, or reached out to talk with me about it—thank you! Not only has this helped allow me to continue writing, it’s also made my job much more fun. Writing is a solitary pursuit and it’s been a joy getting to meet so many of you.
When I set out to write this story, all I knew was that I wanted it to be about someone starting over. I hope this book serves as a reminder that change can be good, and that having the courage to course-correct when life doesn’t go according to plan can be surprisingly wonderful and just what we never knew we needed. Hopefully this story warmed your heart and maybe gives you the courage to try something new or to take time this holiday season to listen to your heart and see what direction it’s trying to lead you next.
If you enjoyed this book, I would be so grateful if you’d consider leaving a review. Reviews help allow authors to continue writing stories and I look forward to the opportunity to share many more. Thank you for your support!
If you are part of a book club and would like me to join in on the discussion, please email me at rileybcostello@gmail.com. I would love to join virtually or in person, if I can.
about the author
RILEY COSTELLO, an Oregon native, graduated with a degree in psychology from Santa Clara University. Her first novel, Waiting at Hayden’s, was named one of the best beach reads of 2019.
sincerelyriley.com
instagram: @rileycostello
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Riley Costello, Waiting for December
