A/N: I just want to thank every single one of you who reads faithfully each time I update, waiting sometimes a month in between chapters, yet still gives nothing but encouraging, thoughtful feedback. I'm just so appreciative of y'all and the things you say to me that keep me going. I'm glad you took a chance on this mammoth Adam Banks saga that tells my version of his early adulthood, his struggles and choices, and his first romance (and with the dreaded fanfic staple, "Random OC Chick" lol). I've watched all three TMD films over and over again to try to build on the vibe I was getting from his character, and hope it hasn't disappointed.

This chapter, we have more sweetness and continued character growth for Lacey, plus the dawning of anxiety about the future of her relationship with Adam should he reach his goals. And at the end? Another "couple milestone".

Fun fact, Mantorville is a real place! As is Spring Fling. Hope you guys enjoy the change in scenery as Adam and Lacey continue to explore their relationship and strengthen their love.

/

"You won't be distracted by comparison if you are captivated by purpose." – Unknown

The next morning, Lacey was awakened by a bright, cheerful Rachel.

"Good morning, Sweetie. You ready to help me load this stuff into the truck? We've got to get a head start on setting up the booth."

Lacey wanted to groan and roll over, but instead she smiled sleepily and sat up, needing a minute to gather her thoughts.

"I even brought you coffee. Still cream and sugar?" Rachel held out a metal blue and white speckled coffee mug. "You'll like drinking out of this one. It keeps it a lot hotter than ceramic."

Lacey smirked, taking it with both hands. "You know all the hacks, Rachel."

"If only I did." Rachel stood up. "I'll let you wake up. I have pancakes ready downstairs when you are. Oh, and wear something warm. Mornings are still a little chilly."

With that, her aunt was back out the door.

If Aunt Rachel could get around and do all the things she did during a day's time while still struggling with RA, surely there was hope for Adam to be able to do the same thing, wasn't there? Only, the things Rachel did, while certainly requiring energy, weren't exactly like playing pro hockey.

Speaking of Adam, she probably had only a handful of minutes to touch base with him until the dance this evening. Putting on her robe, she grabbed her mug and quickly padded down the hall, cracking open his door.

Adam was covered up all the way, a shock of caramel colored hair the only thing visible. Lacey smiled and approached the bed quietly, not wanting to jar him awake. Upon sitting down next to him, she realized he was curled on his side away from her, so she pulled the covers down just enough to squeeze his arm.

"Hmm…" he mumbled.

"Adam…" she leaned down and kissed his ear, whispering, "Can you wake up for a minute?"

"Hmm mmm," he pulled the covers back over his head.

Lacey clucked her tongue and pulled the covers back down. "Wake up you crazy thing. I'm about to leave, and I wanted to see you first. How about a sip of my coffee?"

"Never," he groaned, rolling onto his back. Despite Adam drinking more coffee recently, he still didn't enjoy it first thing in the morning.

"Okay, then sit here while I drink it." She patted his shoulder, making herself comfortable as she sipped the steaming hot liquid that made the whole world right this early.

"You going to the Spring thing?," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Spring Fling. Yeah. And you're still coming with everybody else later?"

"I am. Imagine missing a tractor parade," he chuckled, bringing his arm around behind his head, propping up slightly.

"Indeed," Lacey rolled her eyes. "Sorry, things down here can get a little redneck."

Adam shrugged. "Not bothered. It's something different. Oh, hey." He was wide awake now, sitting up and rearranging himself to face her. "I want to do something this weekend if you don't mind."

"What?" Lacey raised a brow.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up, going to fish in his luggage.

"Oh by the way, I have a question for you," Lacey smirked over her mug. "What eighteen-year-old carries a garment bag to a farm?"

"Yup, knew that would be coming," Adam took a box out of his suitcase before turning to her. "For your information, I had no idea we were going to a farm at the time. And even if I had known? Well, a guy should always take at least one nice shirt and trouser set with him wherever he goes. Because you don't always know what you'll end up doing. So there it is. And let me guess: you probably don't have anything to wear to that dance tonight, do you? "

Lacey cringed. "Okay, no I don't. But I do have an amazing aunt who's taking me dress shopping. So…bring a garment bag, or have a generous aunt? Hmm."

Adam shook his head, then came over and sat down, opening the box he carried to pull out a sleek camera, complete with attachments. One that had to have cost hundreds of dollars.

"My early graduation present from the parents. Mom gave it to me yesterday because she said I might want to go ahead and start capturing some of my experiences."

Lacey's eyes widened. "Adam, you've got to be kidding me! That's awesome! So at least you'll be all ready for when we take our photography class. Meanwhile, I'll go to Walmart and pick up a couple of cheap disposables, how's that?"

"Actually, I'm thinking maybe we should just learn this on our own, through trial and error. It's more fun that way, right? And I think I could do it." He began pressing various buttons and messing with the dial like he already knew what he was doing. And apparently he did, as suddenly, he held up the camera, the flash that followed nearly knocking the coffee out of Lacey's hand.

Adam laughed, jumping up.

"Adam, no way! That is so unfair! I look terrible, I just woke up!"

"You're beautiful. Always." He set his camera down on the dresser carefully.

"That was so wrong," she continued to mutter, taking another big gulp of coffee.

"So actually…" he looked back over his shoulder at her. "That's kind of what I wanted to do–practice taking pictures of you. I mean and some other stuff, too, but I definitely want to have some good shots of you with all the animals you love petting so much. I thought we could kind of go around the farm."

Lacey watched him, smiling. Hey, if this furthered another interest for Adam to spend his time on, she was going to humor him. "Well, sure. Absolutely. Let's do it."

"Good. Then I'll get them developed when I get home." He patted his new Nikon.

"Lacey, are you coming?"

Lacey winced as she heard her aunt's voice in the hall.

"Yeah, one sec!," she called back loudly before realizing she probably woke her mom and Stuart.

"Guess I'd better get dressed and get down there." She took one last sip of coffee and stood up.

"Lacey," Adam stepped over to gently take her arm, stopping her. "Listen. About last night."

She looked up, feeling her heart hammer.

"It's not that I didn't want to come into your room. You know that, right?"

Lacey nodded. "Yeah. Of course. I think it's good we stopped things when we did."

"You do?" Adam let out a big breath, looking relieved.

"Yeah. I mean I didn't want to, obviously, but…" Lacey paused for a moment to figure out how to word things. "...I think it was wise of you to realize we were headed down a road we're not ready for yet. And the more I thought about it, the more I knew you were right. We need to move slowly and not rush things."

Adam watched her before giving a shy smile, leaning in to kiss her nose. "So, not now. But someday…?" His eyes, lit by hopeful anticipation, caused her cheeks to burn.

"Yeah. Someday." She smiled, heading for the door with her mug. "Okay, Ansel Adams, I gotta go. See you there. You guys try not to be too late."

"We won't be." Lacey could hear the smile in his voice as she left the room, probably the hardest thing she would do all day.

This guy. She knew, absolutely, that she was in love with him.

In love.

And she wanted more than anything to tell him properly, to finish the sentence she had started in the attic that afternoon after the twins' birthday party. But there was a Spring Fling to get to, and Lacey knew she had to focus, as hard as it was to do so.

/

The day was beautiful, spirits were high, and flowers were blooming at Spring Fling. And Lacey had never been as fascinated by all their colors as she was now.

"Look at those hydrangeas," she breathed. "If I had Adam's camera–well, and knew how to work it–I could take a picture of those to try to paint."

"Oh, so now you paint," Rachel chuckled. "I keep learning all these brand new things about you."

The Farmer's Market, which Lacey had never attended with her aunt before, turned out to be a blast. She tried to keep her attention trained on their own booth which sold Rachel's heating pads, candles and baked goods, and Bryce's produce. But not wandering too far was difficult. After a while, Rachel gave her the go-ahead to explore.

There were all kinds of wares sold at the event, more than just fruits and vegetables as she'd originally imagined. There were big, vibrant flowers; various craft booths, much like the one she'd met Yvette at last fall; and even antique dealers.

Around eleven, the tractor parade started, and people lined the streets to see what sort of themes were drummed up this year. Lacey and Rachel waved and whistled as Bryce rode through on Marilyn, decked out in a "rose" blanket with a mane and tail attached, disguised as a Kentucky derby winning horse. After the creative tractors rode through, they were parked on the other end of the street to be shown off as passersby shopped in the Market. Lacey imagined her parents, sisters and Adam were somewhere in the throngs of people that had shown up in Mantorville for Spring Fling, but she had no idea where. And not knowing gave her more time to spend with her aunt.

"I'd like to try beekeeping this year," Rachel mused. "Bryce thinks we shouldn't take on anything else, but I've read up on it, and I'm pretty sure it's doable. It would be lucrative, you know. There's obviously honey to be sold, but also a ton of things you can make out of beeswax. Soap, lip balm, more candles…"

Lacey smiled, thinking about the attitude her mom seemed to have toward Rachel, which had definitely worsened since her aunt moved out to the country with Bryce. But she wasn't sure what was wrong with the lifestyle Rachel had adopted. From her earliest years, Lacey remembered Rachel as being a free-spirited woman who enjoyed trying new things. She didn't balk at change, and when she'd married a farmer, she had given farming a chance and liked it.

"I love your life."

"Hmm?" Rachel turned back to her, holding a hand over her eyes to see Lacey better as they sat underneath the warm sun in garden chairs.

"I love your life," Lacey repeated. "It just feels so simple and free out here. Everybody seems to know each other, you guys all stay busy doing the stuff you love…I don't know. I just like it. You probably can't imagine ever moving back to the city, can you?"

Rachel smiled. "Well, sure, I don't think I would be as happy in the city now as I used to be. But life out here isn't perfect, either, you know."

Lacey shrugged. "Oh, I mean of course it isn't. Nothing's perfect. But it's better than where we live and what we do, right?" She pulled her chair a little closer to Rachel in case her mom or Stuart were to walk up and catch her words. "You know how unfulfilling Mom's life is. Stuart's too. They work in factories. And I mean, yeah, Stuart gives guitar lessons too, which I guess gives him a chance to do something he loves. But life is really hard for them in Minneapolis. The worst thing is, I wonder if they even realize it could be any different. Maybe in a place like this, it would be."

Rachel was quiet for so long that Lacey wondered for a moment if she was just ignoring her. But she finally spoke. "Your mom's life hasn't been easy, for sure. And like the rest of us, different choices might have yielded her different things. But she has her blessings, too. I'm glad she and Stuart found each other when they were both in difficult situations, and I'm glad she does make ends meet. And more than anything, I'm glad she had you girls." She took a deep breath and looked back across the street toward the vibrant flowers and sturdy plants being set up for the Garden Show. "Lacey, you see a perfect pie on a countertop, I see a chipped crust I spent all evening kneading with arthritic hands. You see the sweet baby goats and piglets, and I see the hard work that went into birthing them. Bryce is out there all night when the animals go into labor, and a lot of times, there's a loss."

For a moment, Lacey felt annoyed. Was her aunt just trying to throw shade on everything good in life? This was entirely unlike Rachel.

"But I guess the hardest pill for us to swallow is seeing all the bedrooms in our house that don't have even one child to sleep in them."

Lacey looked back at Rachel, unsure what to say, until her aunt continued gently.

"Life is made sweeter or harder by what we choose to see. From a certain perspective, we can find fault with everything we've got. Or, likewise, we can find the blessings. But both do exist, and I tend to think life works best when we acknowledge all of it, the good and the bad, but keep our eyes fixed on the good. Your mom and Stuart may not live in ideal conditions, but they have a pretty good life all in all. And so do Bryce and I. But we can't really compare them, can we?"

"I…guess not." Lacey saw the point her aunt was making and looked down, feeling a little ashamed of how she'd always been of her upbringing and status. She had only really managed to see a home where her mom and "step" dad had never bothered to marry, lived in a rental house, and considered Stouffer's chicken cordon bleu to be gourmet.

"Take you, for instance. You're a beautiful girl who won Homecoming Queen. How many girls would give anything for that honor? You work doing something you love, you've always managed to keep up in school, and you come from a good home. And let's not forget that handsome, sweet boy you managed to snag." Rachel winked.

Lacey chuckled. "I guess when I think of it that way, I can see how I've been pretty darn shallow about things."

"We've all been there," Rachel replied seriously. "And we can all go back there very easily. So every day, we've got to sharpen our focus on what we're going to choose to see as our reality."

The smile didn't leave Lacey's lips as she recalled watching White Christmas with Adam and listening to the lyrics of Bing Crosby's "Count Your Blessings."

"'When my bankroll is getting small, I think of when I had none at all'…" she began singing in a quiet voice.

"'And I fall asleep counting my blessings'," Rachel finished with her, beaming. "I had no idea you were a White Christmas fan!"

"I wasn't," she answered truthfully. "Until Adam roped me into watching it this past year."

"He's making a positive impact already, I see," Rachel remarked with a wink.

The Farmer's Market lasted until around two, which wasn't all that long, but felt like an eternity from when Lacey and Rachel had arrived at eight in the morning. Lacey wondered how Adam was faring, spending the whole day with her family without her. But when she caught sight of the gang briefly after the tractor parade, he waved at her with a twin on each side, seemingly content. She certainly hoped that was the case as there was still one more thing to do before the barn dance.

Her aunt took her into town once they unloaded the leftover wares from the market, and they stopped by a cute local boutique in nearby Kasson. It was called Zerden's, and the dresses hanging in the windows were beyond beautiful. But after taking one look at a price tag on a skirt once they were inside, Lacey turned to Rachel. "These things are pretty, but I'm really okay with TJ Maxx."

"Oh no. No TJ Maxx for you today. I want you to trust me when I say I can swing this. Go ahead, look around!" Rachel prompted.

It didn't take long for Lacey's eyes to fall immediately on a white eyelet dress with a tee-length hem.

"Oooh, that's pretty," Rachel came up beside her.

"It is," Lacey confessed with a smile. "But it's also got spaghetti straps, and isn't it a little early in the season for that?"

"Well, let me just warn you, a barn dance is a hot, sticky affair no matter what season it is. But this would look lovely with a denim jacket. Let's look around for one. And you can borrow my cowboy boots!" Rachel became more animated the more she talked. "I think this is the one. Already."

Sure enough, even after stopping in a few more stores, all of which sported beautiful dresses, Lacey couldn't get her mind off the white eyelet in Zerden's. So, after finding and purchasing a slim denim jacket–"a staple you can wear with anything," Rachel had offered–they went back and got the dress.

Lacey was excited. Not only about the barn dance, but about owning such a nice, well-made dress she could wear for other occasions. She bounced inside the house when she and Rachel got home, flashing the dress and jacket, placing one in front of the other, to show her mom, who was reading a magazine with her feet up on the front porch swing.

"Look!" She beamed. "Won't it look nice? Rachel got this for me, and she said I can wear her boots with it. I can't wait for Adam to see it tonight."

She wasn't counting on her mom studying the items wordlessly for a moment, then standing and pushing past her, letting the screen door slam as she went inside the house. Lacey stood staring at the door, confused, before she heard her mother issue stern words to someone. She then heard Rachel's softer tone, responding to the heat in a calm, reassuring manner.

What the heck could her mom have against her aunt buying her a dress and denim jacket?

Trying to shake her mom's response off, chalking it up to possible hormones, Lacey escaped upstairs to begin the process of getting ready for the dance. Soon, however, her mother appeared at the door of her room, coming in to sit on the bed and watch her get dressed, wordlessly.

"It's nice," she finally commented as Lacey twirled around in front of the mirror, wondering if she looked country enough.

"It is, isn't it?" She met her mom's eyes in the mirror. "Mom, what was the problem earlier? I mean, Aunt Rachel was just trying to be nice."

Her mom sighed. "Lacey, it's just that it was a lot to spend. And don't you think Stuart and I would have liked to have bought something like that for you? But there's no way we could. It just felt like she was throwing it in my face that…" But her mom broke off, shaking her head and letting out her breath in a huff.

"Mom, it wasn't like that at all. I promise. I think she just wanted to do something special since I don't get to see her alot. And I'm just asking, but…does Rachel ever actually throw anything in your face?"

Her mom didn't respond immediately. "She doesn't. That's what makes it that much worse. I can't even be mad at her for that much." She cracked a small smile.

Lacey turned from the mirror to look at her mother directly. "You don't like coming here because you have some kind of problem with her, don't you?"

She dared not use the word jealous, but that's what it seemed to amount to.

"It's hard to talk about Lacey, and nothing you need to be worried about," Darlene answered flatly.

"Because for the record, and I know I've told you this before, but maybe not nearly enough…you're a great mom. And Rachel's a great aunt. But it isn't the same thing, and I don't want you to think I'd rather be her daughter just because we have good conversations and she buys me expensive clothes. And…because she can make amazing bath salts. Anyway, Mom, when I need to be set straight and pulled back to the ground, there's only one person I can go to: you."

They looked at one another for quite awhile, and Lacey didn't move her eyes, willing her mom to read the earnestness there. She was surprised to detect that her mom's own eyes were welling up, something she'd seen maybe only twice in her life. But before she could say anything else, her mom stood up suddenly.

"Okay, well don't keep Adam waiting. He's gonna want to see all this," Darlene did a top to bottom sweep with her arm to indicate Lacey's outfit.

Forcing herself to accept the special moment as over, as her mother apparently had, Lacey nodded. "Did he do all right while left alone with you guys earlier?"

"Well, I'm sure he noticed I didn't eat him, and of course he and Stuart get along fine. I don't even need to tell you the girls love him and treat him like they think he's supposed to love them, too." She laughed a little. "He bought celery sticks and ranch dressing to carry around with him at one point–I mean, who does that?! There was plenty of cotton candy and funnel cakes to go around!–and the girls just expected he'd share with them. Before he knew it, there were maybe two sticks left for him. And I don't even need to get off onto the topic of how they'll eat Adam's celery sticks, but won't eat anything green at home."

Lacey laughed at the mental image of poor Adam and his seized celery sticks. "He does eat healthy because of hockey."

"Yeah, I figured. But that brings to mind Stuart's theory, which he shared with me when we got back: the girls seem to think they have to share everything of yours. They idolize you, you know, and want to experience everything you do. Remember when we threw your twelfth birthday at the bowling alley, and the whole night, no matter what you did, all they wanted to do was follow you around? Two blonde shadows."

Lacey smiled a little. "Yeah. I should do more stuff with them, I guess."

"Well, that's for later. Actually, hold on, I have something for you." Her mom disappeared from the room before Lacey could even ask if she wanted to help with her hair.

Sighing, Lacey sat down, examining her makeup in the mirror before her mom returned, holding something on a silver chain.

"Look." Darlene pulled a chair up behind Lacey and draped the chain around the front of her, revealing a gorgeous oval shaped, turquoise pendant. "This is kind of from Aunt Rachel and kind of from me. Or, okay, pretty much from Rachel since she found a whole jewelry box full of necklaces in the attic when she moved here. But when she showed them to me, she told me to pick one for you. And I thought maybe you'd like this one."

Lacey smiled as her mom fastened it behind her, remembering how she'd done the same thing on homecoming night with the necklace she'd bought her at Belk. Her mom did love buying and giving gifts–maybe that's another reason why it had hit her right in the heart when Rachel had been able to afford something nice for Lacey that she couldn't.

"You picked well! I like it," Lacey fingered the small, smooth stone. "Thank you, Mom."

"Sure thing." Darlene squeezed her shoulders. "Now, what are we doing with your hair?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, lucky for you, I do." Darlene set to work braiding a strand of hair on each side of Lacey's head, pulling them around to pin at the back.

Lacey reached for the mirror to look at the back of her hair before Darlene pulled it out of her hands. "Hold on, we're not done."

"I know," Lacey groaned. "It's probably going to take me another fifteen minutes to straighten it out…"

"No way are you straightening this out. You have nice natural waves. Why would you take them out? Look at yourself."

Doubtfully, Lacey leaned forward and studied herself. Her mom was actually right. Her chestnut brown hair hung in soft waves a little past her shoulders, and it looked…

Pretty.

"Your hair used to look like this when you were a kid! Why'd you go and change it?," her mom challenged, hands on hips.

Lacey shrugged. "Mom, I don't know, I mean, people weren't very nice to me back then. Don't you remember? I started looking at magazines and decided maybe they would be if I looked…'hot'. And a girl with frizzy brown, patched hair due to pulling just didn't give the right message. So, you know, I did what I needed to do to give me the confidence to, I guess, be different. It stopped a lot of the pulling for a while, anyway…"

"Yeah, and do you know what else has stopped a lot of the pulling?" Her mom challenged, "You're being yourself again. Which you've seemed to be able to do the most since…well, Adam."

"Oh. Wait, I'm sorry, my ears are a little blocked these days. Who?"

"Adaaam," her mom rolled her eyes, heading for the door. "Okay, hurry up. He's probably waiting downstairs as we speak."

With that, her mom disappeared, and Lacey grinned at herself in the mirror.

She came down a little while later, eager to show off until she saw Uncle Bryce, sitting alone in his recliner while Stuart sat on the couch, each wearing flannel shirts and jeans. Bryce sported cowboy boots, while Stuart's work boots had to suffice.

"Wait, is Adam seriously not ready yet?"

Stuart and Bryce looked over at one another and snorted laughter.

Lacey shifted her hips and crossed her arms. "What?

"Well," Bryce tried to become serious. "We sent him back upstairs to try again."

"Why?" Lacey felt her ears burning, wondering why on earth Bryce and Stuart, of all people, would give Adam a hard time. "Adam dresses up all the time, I'm sure he looked nice."

"Tha's jus' it, Lass. It's a barn dance. He's no' s'posed t' look so 'nice.'

"He had on khakis and a navy shirt with a burgundy tie. Fine if you're going to a society tea, but not this," Bryce commented. "But it's okay. I went up and laid out a different shirt for him. We wear about the same size, even if he's taller."

"He was probably insulted." Lacey shook her head in disbelief at them.

"Not as much as he would've been if he showed up that way." Darlene came around the corner looking beautiful in a red and white flannel shirt tucked into a leather belt that held up a swishy, navy skirt. She, also, was wearing a pair of Rachel's cowboy boots, and she looked absolutely adorable.

But Lacey would tell her that later. For now, she was miffed that Uncle Bryce and Stuart had been so rude about Adam's way of dressing.

"Well still, I–"

"This better?"

She turned and saw her boyfriend coming down the stairs, this time wearing a blue and red flannel shirt buttoned up over a white undershirt and dark wash jeans. The vision caused her heart to skip a beat, but Adam looked entirely unsure of himself.

"Should I keep this tucked in…?"

"Absolutely not." Her mom came up to him and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt, causing his eyes to widen. When she was finished, she pulled the tails of the shirt out, but left the white shirt tucked in. "Much better. Can't have you going in there looking like a cake-eater."

Lacey caught his eye roll from hearing that nickname again.

"Now. Nice shoes," Darlene remarked after surveying her work.

"Yeah?" Adam looked down at his brown Doc Martens. "I wear them pretty often, surely you've–"

"Point is, you look nice." Her mom walked past him after pinching his cheek playfully. Adam reached up instinctively to rub the spot, glancing around at everyone, embarrassed by the debacle until he locked eyes with Lacey.

He dropped his hand and walked over to her. She smiled.

"You look amazing." He stopped short of embracing her, but slowly took in her white dress and cowboy boots, and reached out for her hair, wrapping a small strand around his finger. "Your ha–"

"Adam, look!" Halen burst into the room, beaming. "Do I look like a cowgirl?"

Her sister's hair was in a loose braid down her back and she wore a blue and white gingham dress. She was joined seconds later by Ariel, whose Posh Spice 'do was untouched. But she did at least have a blouse covered in wildflower print tucked into her jeans.

"You look like every cowgirl I've ever seen," Adam grinned. Rachel came into the room then, wearing her own old-fashioned, teal colored dress with a crown braid. Her aunt was easily the most beautiful woman in the room, her face perpetually radiant, a smile never far away. She took Bryce's hand and gently tugged him up.

"Alright, well we'd better go. Who's riding with who?"

While this madness was sorted out, Lacey reached out to catch Adam's shirt. "Sorry about that. I'm sure there was absolutely nothing wrong with what you were wearing."

"Actually," he blushed, "there was. I just didn't know how to change it 'til your uncle let me borrow his shirt. So it's all good. But can you tell me something…?"

"Hmm?"

"What exactly is a potluck like?"

Lacey froze. "Something you probably will not like at all."

"Why?"

"Well, a whole bunch of people each bring a dish they made at home. Or sometimes something they got from the grocery store, but around here you can almost count on people having cooked their own food. They set it up buffet style and you just…eat." Lacey flashed him an uneasy smile.

"So, wait. Who do you know at this thing besides your aunt and uncle?"

Lacey paused. "Well, nobody."

"And you're going to just go eat their food? I mean not knowing who they are and if they're clean people?"

Lacey chuckled. "Okay, the way you put it makes it sound nasty. But I promise you, I've done potlucks down here before, and it's always been fine. Farm people make some really good food."

"Yeah, well, we passed a place with a bathtub in somebody's yard, and it looked like one woman gathered chicken eggs and just walked straight in the house with them. She didn't use the hose to wash them–" he cut off. "I mean, do you clean them with a water hose? I don't know, my point is, I'm not sure everybody around here has the best hygiene."

Adam fairly jumped when Ariel walked up behind him. "That's exactly why I hate these things. Plus, almost everything has meat, which is a problem for me now."

"Okay, Ariel? We're having a two-person conversation here and while we're at it, let me say that I know you and Halen have been up Adam's nose all day. Leave him alone awhile." Lacey felt testy toward her little sisters, and she knew it showed.

Ariel rolled her eyes, stalking off, but not before throwing a comment over her shoulder. "Oh okay, must be time for you two to go suck each other's faces off somewhere."

Adam looked back at Lacey, red-faced and eyebrows raised before he snorted with laughter quietly.

"Wow," Lacey giggled.

"Right!" Stuart called out after the buzz of conversation that had broken out earlier died down. "Lads in th' truck, lasses in th' station wagon."

Halen looked horrified. "Can't we take the Subaru, Dad?"

"Nay, th' station wagon 'as more room, Love." Stuart patted her head, which Halen immediately protested against.

"See you later," Adam squeezed Lacey's hand and went to follow Stuart and Bryce.

Who knew seven people could generate so much confusion and drama? It was fifteen minutes before everyone was loaded into the vehicles, Halen ran back in to grab her purse (Mom: "Why do you need your purse?! It's a barn dance!"), the station wagon wheels had sunk into the mud and the guys had to push it forward slightly for Rachel to drive them away from the rut, then a big sow escaped from the pig pen and apparently decided to lay down right in the middle of the driveway. Bryce had to jump out of the truck for the second time in ten minutes to lead the disgruntled creature back to the pen. Lacey was ready to kick off the boots and pull her hair back into a plain ponytail by the time they finally got on the road to the appointed farm.

But once they finally arrived, it was impossible not to immediately appreciate the effort it took to get there. The inside of the Jernigan's barn was lit around and across with plain white Christmas lights and gold streamers. The ground was covered in hay, and against two of the walls were arranged a row of chairs each. There was a set of big speakers in the far corner, a microphone in the far right, and close to the back wall was a chain of long tables covered with food. A guy was even setting up a beer keg closeby.

This was clearly going to be a party.

Ariel giggled. "I bet I can slip over there and try a sip of beer before anybody would even miss me."

Darlene slapped the back of her daughter's head lightly. "I'm Mom and I have eyes everywhere, so don't even think about it."

"Halen, look," Lacey leaned down a little to point. "There are some boys your age. Maybe one of them will ask you to dance. Or you can ask them too, you know."

Halen flushed, suddenly shy. "I think I'll just sit and watch for right now."

"That's okay, too." Lacey straightened up and pulled Adam's hand to lead him to the potluck table. Once they got there he stood for a moment, scrutinizing everything.

"Now you have to move so you don't hold up the line." She handed him a paper plate. "Just grab what you want."

Adam examined his plate, then looked at the casserole and dish of green beans before him. The person behind "accidentally" bumped into him, giving him the clue that he needed to move.

He moved along, not taking anything.

"Okay. Those cheesy potatoes at two o'clock? Rachel made those. And those yeast rolls, and I think the icebox cake at the end. You can at least eat those," Lacey whispered.

"Honey!" An elderly woman approached Adam from the other side of the table. "You look like the perfect one to try my marshmallow sweet potatoes right there," she pointed to what was admittedly a delectable dish, but not one Adam would ever partake in.

"Um…thank you, but I–"

"Aren't you just so cute!" She went on, unable to take the hint, eyeing Lacey. "Love birds, right?"

Adam froze, probably trying to think up a proper response, but Lacey nodded.

"You both look adorable tonight. Sweetie, I think you'll like these." She turned back to Adam, taking up the serving spoon and plopping a hearty portion of the casserole on his plate. "And this is only the first batch I've put out. I had to stir it all together in my mama's laundry tub that I still have to this day! It was the only thing big enough to hold 'em all before I baked 'em. You enjoy those!"

Adam smiled at her until she moved along, then he looked back at Lacey, grimacing. "That's…so gross."

"What? She said it was a laundry tub! We know it's had soap in it," Lacey grinned back at him.

"And probably dirty diapers." Adam closed his eyes a moment and shook his head, taking a few other things as they moved down the line in the smallest portions possible. "I won't eat half of this," he whispered, "but I don't want to be impolite."

Lacey playfully bumped her hip into his. "Well go get some beer to wash it down with. Or to make you forget what you're eating, at least…"

Adam chuckled. "Nah. I'd actually really love some beer, but your parents are here, so…"

The food, by Lacey's standards, was amazing. They probably would have been by Adam's, even, had he not picked at his plate. Rachel made endless introductions, barely catching a minute to put anything in her own mouth. But by the time dinner was over and the dance had begun, Lacey felt she knew half the people in attendance.

She and Adam, as she predicted, were introduced to dances that she had no idea how to move to. It was entirely country music, which of course was expected. But Adam's advice was for them to observe closely. This wasn't enough for Lacey, who stumbled through every dance at first, feeling she needed more practice and for someone to explain each step to her. Adam, however, a quick study and much faster on his feet, was able to pick them up well before half the songs were finished. He tried to coach her, too, but it was a lost cause that left them both laughing.

"You're better than me! Go find somebody else to dance with for a while!" Lacey protested when he wanted to try another song. "I'm going to sit down."

The other very obvious problem that Lacey didn't want to call attention to was the fact that these country dances were energetic and she needed to catch her breath. Adam's endurance was way better than hers was, and it was embarrassing. She needed to start training with him again.

Lacey watched while Rachel, who didn't seem the least bit tired, took a turn dancing with him. But Lacey noticed he kept glancing over at her, presumably to see how well she was recovering. But it was good to get off her feet, especially following the early morning farmer's market activity, so she just smiled at him and tossed up a wave. Next, Adam predictably took a turn with each twin, delighting them both that he knew how to dance so well.

Despite not being much for country music or even a country environment, Lacey enjoyed her surroundings quite a bit. There were young people dancing together like she and Adam were doing, middle aged couples, and older folks even joining in. Best yet, there was a camaraderie out on the dance floor here that one couldn't generally find at things like high school dances. People laughed together at mistakes and sang with the music without embarrassment. Most of the local men wore cowboy hats and big, shiny belt buckles, and it mystified her that a place that was only an hour and a half away from Minneapolis could be so different from her home city.

But it was fun.

Next song, Adam headed back over to her. "Okay, I'm taking a break. Where's the water?"

Lacey pointed to a nearby table serving water in little plastic cups, and she watched in awe as he downed about six of them before coming back over.

"How can you hold that much water?!"

"Have to. Hockey," he replied, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He'd no sooner than sat down, however, before out of nowhere came Lacey's mom.

"All right, it's my turn. Let me show you how it's done." She dusted her hands off and rached down to take Adam's wrist, pulling him back up as he looked back at Lacey and shrugged.

Watching her mom and Adam dance was the true highlight of the evening. Something by a band called The Dixie Chicks came on, and her mom immediately landed into some of the sassiest foot work with impeccable timing. Lacey couldn't stop giggling as she was obviously trying to out-dance Adam, who was a pretty tough customer himself. It didn't even take alcohol tonight for him to whip out enough brass to stare her in the eye after she made a cocky dance move to try to outdo him, and he, in turn, gave it right back to her. Not missing a step of his own. Stuart and the twins had even stopped to watch.

Finally the song ended, and Darlene patted Adam on the back, giving him a smirk before trading him off for Stuart.

"Did I really just survive that?" Adam laughed as Lacey went back out onto the dance floor to take his hand.

"You did! She was giving you some kind of weird initiation." Lacey laughed herself and threw her arms around Adam's neck, hugging him close for the beginning of "Strawberry Wine" by Deanna Carter, a song Lacey actually knew. She moved along with Adam to the waltzy tempo, loving the feel of his hands on her sides. The song was a romantic ballad sung by a woman reminiscing about her first experience of love with a worker on her grandpa's farm. She wondered what had become of the boy and wished life could be as simple and beautiful as it was back then.

It was a sweet song, but it also flooded Lacey's heart and mind with sadness. When she realized it, it was like a sock in the gut. What if that was her one day, grieving the love she'd had at seventeen? All of this could be reduced to nothing but scattered memories. After Adam went to college, then hopefully the NHL, would she fall flat for him? And what about the distance?

Oh no. It was happening. Why had she let herself think like that?

First she felt the urge to cry. Then she couldn't breathe, which caused everything and everybody around her appeared to swim.

Don't do this. Not now.

But her inner protests were futile, as they always were. "Adam, I…" Lacey fought for the words she needed to excuse herself. "...I just need to find a bathroom." Pulling away from him so quickly he didn't have a chance to reply, she headed over to the wall, discreetly slipping off the cowboy boots that suddenly felt so heavy, and turned to make her way out of the barn, walking past scattered groups of people, largely her own age. She kept going, out past the parking lot, feeling the gravel dig into the bottoms of her feet. But that was the least of her worries. When she reached the other side, she began running, hair in her hands.

Nothing but acres and acres of farmland and empty field for cattle grazing opened up in front of her, and Lacey ran as hard and fast as she could, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I can't breathe.

Then SLOW DOWN.

Her technique of self-dialogue finally took effect and she slowed down as she neared a slope in the land, falling onto her knees and elbows in exhaustion. She gasped for breath, taking greedy gulps of the air around her that tasted of bonfire and hay, even this far away. She wasn't sure how long it took her to turn her head toward the way she came, observing how far she had run. The barn dance was many, many yards away now, though she could still see the figures of people dancing and hear the music on the breeze.

She tried sitting back and reaching far forward on the ground into what Dr. Hemby taught her was Child's Pose in yoga, good for panic attacks.

You CAN breathe, you just don't THINK you can.

But this wasn't working, and she felt her stomach clench so hard she thought for a moment everything she had eaten before was going to come up. She had to calm down. And she didn't have her medicine with her, so there was only one thing that would relieve all this temporarily.

She regained her hold on a big lock of hair on each side of her head, and–

"Lacey! Don't."

Adam's voice. She knew he was behind her.

"Lacey," he spoke in a calmer voice now, as he was approaching her. She was still in Child's Pose as he sat down on the ground next to her. He gently reached for her hands and disengaged her hair from in between her fingers.

"Here. Let's…pull grass, okay? Pull the grass." He rested her hands back on the ground in front of her as she was still trying to focus on breathing.

She couldn't get up–her stomach was clenched too hard. She definitely couldn't talk. And she wanted to jerk hair out of her head so badly she thought she would explode, so she took great chunks of grass and pulled them out of the ground as hard as she could.

"Yeah. Go with that," Adam encouraged before lying down with his own cheek to the ground, facing her. "Let's breathe."

During a panic attack, there are three stages that occur in your mind when you're trying to regain control. First, you think you can't get control. That's where people usually stay who don't ever get help. They just suffer until it's over, and it takes a while. The second stage that occurs is realizing you can get control, but not without pushing hard through the turmoil, and the idea of even trying can keep you stuck. But making it to the third, Dr. Hemby always told Lacey, was the goal, because at the third stage, you've pushed past the negativity going on in your head and reach out for the techniques you were taught.

That's the stage Lacey was finally at as she lay there listening to Adam breathe with her slowly.

In…1…2…3…4…

Hold…1…2…3…4

Out…1…2…3…4

Hold…1…2…3…4

They might have been out there for five minutes, or thirty. She really wasn't sure when all the buzzing and ticking in her ears finally went away, she could breathe again, and she felt the wetness on her cheek from the damp grass.

Then just as she was beginning to feel normal again, something occurred to her and she quickly pushed up onto her knees. "My dress! Oh no," she whimpered. "Rachel spent so much on this, and I just know I've ruined it–!"

"Listen." Adam reached a hand out quickly. "I'm pretty sure the dress can be saved. You didn't get much grass on it."

Lacey blinked a few times, examining it as best she could in moonlight. "...Y-You think it'll be okay…?"

"Yeah. We'll get all that figured out later. But for now, let me help you sit."

He did so, easing Lacey gently down onto the ground as he sat next to her. "Did something happen back there to trigger it?"

"Yeah, I…" she paused. "I told you I was going to the bathroom. How did you know to follow me up here?"

"Because I just knew. I can see a lot of the warning signs now when you're about to do this. And I wasn't gonna let you go through it alone." He put an arm around her shoulders, gathering her hair up and pulling it over her back, stroking through it. "I have to save this pretty hair, too."

Lacey glanced down beside her, nearly gasping when she realized with what fury she'd ripped and torn up the grass with her hands just a few short minutes earlier.

To think she was about to do that to her scalp.

Adam pulled her close, not pushing her to talk despite doubtlessly wanting an answer to his question. She was frankly embarrassed to tell him about it.

"We…well, I was having a good time." She sniffled when she could talk again. "And then when a certain song came on, the lyrics caught my attention, and I started thinking about what it meant."

He was quiet for a moment. "Which song was it? I'm terrible at listening to lyrics at a dance."

"'Strawberry Wine,' just about a girl thinking back to her first love, missing him, and I…I just started thinking, what if that's me one day, looking back on all this and…" she didn't even know how to finish the sentence, let alone without crying again. But she pressed on. "I've grown accustomed to being happy again, since you. But if you go off to NYU and meet someone else, or just get busy with hockey like you do, and…or even if we make it through college but you go off to the NHL, this is going to fall apart. All of it. Our talks on the phone, spending all this time together, the kissing, and even…I mean, spending time with your mom. The twins glomping you. This entire last year…" she trailed off. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid of letting all this go. And I know there's nothing we can do but just wait and see, but it's like–it hasn't lasted long enough. But you're going to school in just four months. Four months isn't enough time for me." The words fell out in great, heavy clumps laden with raw angst, and she felt angry with herself for bursting the bubble they'd been in back in the barn. Adam wouldn't have the first idea what to do with all of this.

"Lacey," he whispered in her ear.

Just the sound alone was enough to ease the tightness in her chest.

"Why do you assume that just because something's good, it has to end? I mean, sure. What if it does? But…what if it doesn't?" He turned a little to face her. "I know plenty of couples that lasted through college, and a good percentage of guys in the NHL are in relationships, some they started before they were drafted. I think it depends on how strong a couple is to begin with, and you and I? Are strong." He brought her hands up to kiss the backs of them, his eyes never leaving hers. "

"But hockey may take you all over the world, Adam. And hockey's the dream you want to chase. I mean I know you care about me, too, but…what if you have to choose?" Lacey pulled her hands from his, feeling her anxiety begin to mount again.

"Lacey." Adam placed his hands gently on either side of her face to look into her eyes. "Why would I have to pick just one dream to go after? And why would you have to, either? I mean, you deserve a dream, too."

"You mean like…after school?" Lacey swallowed, feeling nervous all over again.

"Sure, after school. I know you don't want to talk about it much, but what if you need to? You seem to think of community college as some kind of painful death, but what if you're doing something you really want to do there?"

"I…I don't know what I want to do, Adam," she replied, feeling irritated. Not with him as much as with her perpetual uncertainty. "I wanted to take time to sort it out."

"But if you had just an idea, even. Wouldn't that help you feel better about going?" His eyes were alight with a hope she wished she felt. "I mean don't take this the wrong way, but you love a lot of little things. Which is amazing. You're better at enjoying your life in the here and now with the little moments of joy, and I kind of suck at that. My life was always about discipline and looking ahead–until I met you. Then you taught me how to laugh more, how to look around at life and enjoy it for what it is. But maybe I can do the opposite for you and help inspire you for the future."

Lacey studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I want to have a dream. I just guess life, for me, has always been about survival. I couldn't handle thinking about more. But now, maybe…maybe I can." She could hear the uncertainty in her voice, but pressed ahead. "I just don't know what I'm good at. I don't know what I really want to do, like, forever."

"Okay, well don't think about forever. I mean you know I'm not going to be playing hockey forever, much as I'd like to. But think what you'd like to do by the time we're thirty. Or even twenty-five. Do you want to take over the cat shelter after Aice retires or something…?"

She shook her head. "It's a lot of responsibility, I don't know if I could."

"Stop thinking about what you 'can't' do and think about what you 'want' to do. 'Cause if you want to do something badly enough, you'll overcome your 'can'ts.' That's something my dad always taught me. What's something you look around and see, and you feel that sort of fire that makes you want to do something about it? Or do in general? I don't know, I suck as a career coach. I just want to get you thinking."

Lacey nodded. "I…I don't know. But I think you've helped me figure out the right questions to ask. And here's my promise–I'll think about it this week when we get back home. Between now and graduation I want to really have some solid ideas for the future. Hold me to it. Okay?"

"Okay," he gave her a sincere smile before leaning in and kissing her forehead. "And you know I seriously will, right? I'm not gonna forget."

She let out a short laugh. "Oh trust me, I know you won't, Mr. Go Get'em." Then, taking a deep, cleansing breath, Lacey stood up. "We should go back. Mom'll worry."

"Lacey, wait."

She looked down at Adam, who still sat on his knees, looking at the ground as though trying to find something there. Finally he looked back up at her. "Can you sit back down? Just for a second?"

"Sure." She knelt down across from him.

He immediately took her hands again. "I know you think hockey's my world. And for the most part, I guess it is. But it's not the only thing anymore. You know that, right?"

Lacey nodded, smiling.

"So I need to say this. Part of me wondered if you were actually about to say it yourself when we were having that fight in my attic–"

"That was not a fight," she cut in, despite feeling the tempo increase in her chest. "It was a momentary disagreement. I solemnly swear, we will never fight."

"Okay, well," Adam chuckled, then took a deep breath. "I just want you to know that the reason I care so much about your future and do all I can to understand what you're going through now…I mean, I even web surfed panic attacks, for God's sake…"

"Adam," Lacey stared. "You did that?"

"Well…yeah," he flushed. "But my point is, it's easy for me to do. Like second-nature, wanting to know what I can do to make your life the best possible. And it's because I love you."

Lacey had to blink several times to keep focus as a thrill ran up and down her spine and her head felt fuzzy.

He said it. She'd wanted to, so many times, but had sworn she would wait for him. Last time she'd heard those words, she'd been dancing with Max to "Eternal Flame" at homecoming, and she'd been completely unable to even answer him, but now…

"I do," Adam continued, a slight tremor in his voice brought about by nervousness, Lacey was sure. But his eyes were still trained on her face. "I always heard people say that and thought they probably had no idea what they were saying, but now I know, it's real. And this is real. I've been in love with you for a long time, and I think that's how I know it's not just some passing thing. You're… you're becoming everything to me."

Lacey's lips parted, but she was unable to utter a sound for a few seconds. "Adam, I love you too. I did almost say it before, you're right. Y-You picked up on that?" she chortled, still feeling like she couldn't get enough air, but this time, it was a good feeling.

"I'm usually pretty dense, but I did," he smiled. "And I didn't want too much time to go by before I said it to you." He scooted close enough to grasp her around the waist, pulling her in once again. "I love you, and I'm going to be here for as long as you'll let me be. It's not like we don't have all the time in the world to be together. Hockey and all."

Lacey threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed eager lips against his, not caring how many other people might have wandered this far out and witnessed this bleeding affection. She would shout it to everybody at the barn dance if she could.

She loved Adam Banks. And he loved her. Nothing could steal it–not even a panic attack.