Arden took a bite of her kale salad dotted with tart Michigan cherries and shook her head. She couldn’t contain her smile.
I feel as giddy as a schoolgirl, she thought.
Arden lifted her face to the sky and let the sun warm her. The sun was playing hide-and-go-seek through the branches of the apple trees that circled the patio where they sat. The two had it all to themselves. No one else was eating outside. A clematis vine was just crawling to life on a trellis next to them, its green arms slowly stretching heavenward. Soon it would be filled with luscious, white blooms.
Arden inhaled.
It’s not the only thing coming to life, she thought.
The scene felt so romantic, so sweet, that the two could have easily been dining on a tree-lined street in Paris.
It just feels so right, Arden thought.
As the two ate, their knees touched. Each time they did, a sudden sensor of heat and excitement pulsed through Arden’s legs and body. She tried to act nonchalant, although she felt as if her heart were thumping out of her chest.
“I didn’t know you played the trumpet,” Arden said. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Jake smiled. “I’m a man of mystery, I guess.”
“Did you take music in college?” Arden asked.
“Minored in music,” he said. “Played trumpet all through college … orchestra, jazz band, marching band … you name it.”
Explains the muscular lips, Arden thought, again turning red.
“A real Renaissance man, huh?” she asked.
“I never thought of it like that,” he said, gesturing with his sandwich. “I always just pursued what I liked.”
Jake shot Arden a look as he finished the sentence, and then winked at her to reinforce the double entendre.
Arden’s heart raced again.
“I like you, Arden,” Jake said suddenly. “I know all of this—me, your mother’s health—is a lot to take in, but I just want to be honest.”
Arden’s eyes met Jake’s, but she couldn’t match his words for some reason.
Being honest with my feelings has never come easily, she thought.
“Do you even realize how much you’ve changed over the last week?” Jake asked.
Arden nodded. “I think I’m starting to see.”
“You’re becoming a whole person again,” Jake said. “Daughter, mother, friend, caregiver, reader, writer,… date…”
Arden laughed. “Again with the date?”
“That’s why I play the trumpet,” Jake said. “It’s an important part of me that I need to express. That’s why you need to write again. It’s an important piece of you. It doesn’t matter if I ever play Carnegie Hall, but it matters that I let the world see me.”
He stopped and set down his sandwich, before standing and taking a seat next to Arden, their legs now pressed against each other.
“So many of my patients are haunted by the things they never did in life and the people they never became,” Jake said, looking into Lakeview. “They didn’t have the power to stand up for themselves, to battle their fears, to show the world who they really were, all those beautiful…”
“Dimensions?” Arden asked.
“Exactly.” Jake smiled. “The worst thing in the world is to have regrets. You will always have a few, but they shouldn’t be ones that keep you up at night.”
Jake stopped, and Arden knew instantly that he was going to kiss her. She could sense it, almost as clearly as she could smell the sweet, perfumed scent of the apple blossoms that filled the air.
Arden shut her eyes and let the moment sweep her away, images of a future life—season by season—pirouetting in her mind.
As their kiss ended, Arden put her hands on Jake’s face and looked tenderly in his eyes.
I can see myself with this man, she thought.
And then she laughed.
“That bad of a kiss, huh?” Jake asked. “I tend to have that effect on women.”
“No, no, no,” Arden said. “I’m sorry. I just noticed you still have a little circle around your lips from the mouthpiece of your trumpet when you played earlier.”
Jake touched his lip self-consciously.
“No, it’s cute. Really cute,” Arden said, before grabbing his face and kissing him again. “You have great lips.”
“So do you,” Jake whispered, grabbing her hand.
Arden put her head on his shoulder. “The apple blossoms smell so heavenly, don’t they?”
“They do,” Jake said. “That’s why they’re our state flower. And Michigan is one of the top apple producing states in the country.”
“You are a person of many dimensions,” Arden said.
“You are, too,” he replied. “Hey? Can I ask you a question?”
Arden lifted her head. “Sure. Anything.”
“Why did you request ‘Let It Snow’?”
Arden smiled and tugged nervously at her earlobe.
“There’s no need for that, Ms. Burnett,” Jake joked. “Just tell me.”
Arden tightened her grip on Jake’s hand and then told him the story of her mother, her own fears, and the snowflake charm.
“She’s right,” he said, when she finished. “We just want you to be the best, most well-rounded person you can be in this world. A whole person is a happy person.”