My breath caught. This was Oar’s Rest. Even in miniature, I could see the bright colors of the beach houses dotting the coast, the familiar slant of the Busy Bean’s roof, and the slick red of my lighthouse.

On the path uphill, the same one I took every day, were two figures on bicycles. One was a boy with short hair, the other a girl with wavy blonde hair trailing behind her. I blinked, lips parted. This was us.

In the top corner, nestled in the clouds, were the words Oar’s Rest in graceful illustration, each word resembling rope. Levi’s name was written in black ink on the bottom, small, so as to fit inside the sandcastle that peeped from the edge.

I flipped the postcard over. On the back were the familiar three lines for an address, but on the opposite end something was written: The words A place to rest your oars between two crossed wooden oars.

A place to rest your oars.

“Oh,” I whispered. I looked up at the sky before the tears could plop onto the postcard. Instead, I blinked, and I felt hot wetness cling to my lower lashes.

“Those are happy tears, right?” he asked.

“Very happy tears,” I said, laughing. “When did you have time to do this?”

“Last week. I went to the tourist office and suggested I could do a postcard series for the whole of Maine. They loved the idea. They wanted a mock-up done first, but if they like it, they’re going to order a whole print run.”

“You’ll have to buy a bike if you decide to stick around,” I said, only half-kidding.

“I know. Maybe tomorrow after work you can help me pick one out?”

I wound my arms around his neck. “It’s a date.”

Levi bent his head; his lips trailed kisses from my shoulder to my ear.

I shivered with pleasure when I felt blunt teeth against my pulse, felt his breath on my earlobe a second before his lips followed.

His warm fingers painted pictures over my wrist, shooting tingles up my arm. “You’re ticklish,” he murmured.

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, holding each other tight.

“I love you, Babe Vogel,” he whispered against my hair.

I glanced back at my friends, at the flames, at the town I knew and loved. This was the summer that everything had come undone, unspooling our lives like the wickedest of storms. Now there was only the calm, the after. It would start in picking up the pieces, making sure everyone was okay. But where it ended? That was anyone’s guess. Like Levi once told me, we were beginnings and middles, but we weren’t endings. They were still up there in the clouds somewhere, waiting for us to catch up.

I looked up at the lighthouse, then back at Levi. “Let’s go home.”