Instead of heading back into the main room, Joy stops by the kitchen to get a drink. She’s mid-pour when a familiar rumble greets the room at large.

Fox doesn’t see her as he walks in and takes off his jacket, passive grumpy frown in place even as he says hello to his friends. She shrinks back against the counter, using a red cup to hide the bottom half of her face.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Joy doesn’t want Fox to look at her like that. She doesn’t want him to look at her like he’s bored and would rather be anywhere else. It took her being clever and honest and watching him to earn his smiles. And cake—he loved her cake so much he smiled.

Now that they’re not in the cabin, things will be different. She can feel it. He’s had time to think about it and change his mind about her.

She won’t be able to handle it because it’s Fox.

Fox.

And then he sees her. His smile is slow and deliberate. The rest of the room melts away as he approaches her, arms raised for her hug. She practically leaps into them, burying her face into his neck, holding him as tight as she can.

Fox smells different—it’s sawdust, dirt, and sweat. He touches her face, fingers tracing her jaw, before he wraps his arms around her again and whispers, “Hey, hey.”

Joy laughs, pulling back to look at him. “Hallo.”

Summer had the right idea. It isn’t about who comes first or second in someone’s heart. Joy wants Fox—independent of Malcolm and not at all as a consolation prize.

Joy’s desire for Fox stand on its own as what could be. As what she hopes will be. She forgot how terrifying and exhilarating this realization feels. That once again, there’s a more to want. To decide to not run away from it, to not wait, to not hide. She’s choosing Fox. And hoping with all her heart he’ll choose her too.

“Ooh shit, Summer wasn’t kidding.” Fiona stands to their left with a huge kid-in-a-candy-store smile on her face. “Don’t mind me. I’m just standing here—continue. Please.” She places her elbows on the counter, cradling her face in her hands, looking back and forth between them. Behind her, almost every face mirrors Fiona’s, but not Malcolm’s—he’s focusing on the table, jaw set—and Summer’s—she’s focusing on Malcolm.

Suddenly, Summer lifts her gaze and meets Joy’s. There’s no hurt or upset. Just that same patient understanding she had while they sat together on the cabin’s porch.

Fox clears his throat, arms falling to his sides, and Joy takes a step back from him.

Fiona says, “I can’t wait to tell Mom.”

“Tell Mom what, exactly?” Fox rumbles.