The following morning, I wake up alone. It comes as no surprise. The curtains are open, allowing sunlight to stream in - Sawyer's doing. I see blue skies and pine trees blowing in a gentle breeze outside. Another beautiful day awaits. Lazily, I roll out of bed and head for the main area of the house to see if Sawyer's up. As soon as I step into the hall, I'm hit with a delicious aroma: bacon.

I follow the smell into the kitchen, where I find Sawyer, dressed and ready for the day, standing in front of the stove. He notices my presence.

"Good morning!" He greets me, sounding extra chipper for some reason.

"Are you cooking?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yeah! I'm trying, anyway. This is our first official day of forever, so I thought why not start it off with a gourmet breakfast?"

I scratch my bedhead. "Yeah. It's a nice thought if we can manage it. What are you making?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon."

It sounds a little ambitious for his first time using a stove. "Here, I'll help." I go to his side. Not that I've logged hundreds of hours behind a stove myself, but I'm sure he's clueless.

"It's alright. I've got it under control," he insists. "You can go take a shower if you want."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

He nods confidently.

"Well...alright then," I shrug and turn for the bathroom.

"Oh, hey, look out at the lake on your way through," he says with a smirk. I wonder what that's about.

As I pass by the picture window in the living room, I draw back the curtain and peer out. It takes a few seconds for me to realize what I'm supposed to be looking at, but then I see it. There's a cute little rowboat floating on the water near the dock. I can't help but laugh as soon as I see it.

Sawyer asks from across the room, "So is that what you had in mind when you wished for my boat, because I was thinking more along the lines of something with a motor."

"I will say that's not what I was expecting," I answer between giggles. "Remember, wishes aren't always exact!"

"It'll work for now. Maybe we can upgrade later," his eyebrows bounce suggestively.

After grabbing a fresh change of clothes from my bedroom, I hit the shower. Roughly twenty minutes later, I meet Sawyer back in the kitchen, and he's got breakfast laid out buffet-style on the counter. I'm surprised at how good of a job he did. 

"Wow!" I exclaim as I scan over everything. First on the line is a stack of pancakes with a bottle of maple syrup on the side, then a heaping pile of scrambled eggs, which are yellow and fluffy, a plate of crispy bacon, (he even put a paper towel underneath to absorb the extra grease), and a small bowl of strawberries.

"How did you manage all this?" I ask, my jaw hanging open.

"I don't even know!" Sawyer laughs. "Guess I discovered my hidden talent."

"I guess so!" I nod in agreement.

"Come on, let's see if it tastes as good as it looks," he hands me a white ceramic plate.

We grab our food, and before I can sit down at the table to eat, Sawyer suggests we eat outside on the porch. Though it's unusual, I don't argue. I follow him out the front door to our little porch patio table, which to my surprise, is now topped with a white tablecloth and decorated with a vase of wildflowers and a vanilla scented candle. Two mugs of coffee also sit waiting for us.

Sawyer sets his plate down in front of the further chair and motions for me to sit in the closer one. "Ladies first," he says kindly.

Okay, he has definitely got something up his sleeve. "What are you up to?" I ask suspiciously.

He answers with a smile, "I just want today to be the best day ever."

I eye him for a moment before taking my seat. He scoots my chair in for me. Then we enjoy a pleasant breakfast outdoors.

I sip the last drop of coffee from my mug while Sawyer admires the view. I put the empty cup down and say, "You did a really good job, Sawyer. That was one of the best breakfasts I've ever had."

He beams with delight. "Really?"

I nod. "You're officially taking over cooking duties from now on."

"Yeah, I actually surprised myself." He wipes his mouth with a napkin before crumpling it up and dropping it onto his empty plate. "So, are you ready to move on to our next activity?"

"Next activity?" I question.

"Yeah, I have a whole day planned," he smiles. 

I want to ask what this "best day ever" thing is all about, but I know he won't tell me his scheme, so I just go along with it.

"Of course you do," I chuckle. "Well, what are we doing?"

"Badminton."

"Do we have rackets and a shuttlecock?"

"No...so I need you to wish for them. I was thinking you could wish for them to, like, pop up in the storage shed so we can just go open the door and the stuff will be there waiting for us."

Badminton does sound fun. I haven't played it in years. I close my eyes and declare, "I wish we had badminton equipment in the storage shed."

I open my eyes and Sawyer's grinning at me. His hands slap the table. "Well, let's go see what Santa brought us!"

We jump up, leaving our dishes there on the table, and scurry around the side of the house to the little storage shed in the back. Sawyer swings the door open and we stand side-by-side, peering through the doorway. Propped up in the back corner is a clear plastic case full of badminton equipment. I didn't doubt that the wish would take.

We play for awhile, sometime into the early afternoon. We're both hot and sweaty by the time we decide to call it quits, so we take it from the front yard to the lake.

"Last one in the lake's a rotten egg!" Sawyer yells and darts off, barely giving me time to comprehend what he said.

"Hey, wait! Not fair!" I yell as I trail after him. He runs onto the dock, ditching his t-shirt in the process, and does a cannonball off the edge. I follow suit, jumping in fully clothed.

After paddling a few laps around the middle of the lake, I suggest to Sawyer, "Why don't we take the rowboat for a spin?"

"That's on the schedule for this evening. We've got some other things to do first," he answers. "Speaking of, let's move on. I've got another wish for you to make."

We swim back to the dock, and then after drying off and changing into some dry clothes inside, he informs me of the next thing he wants me to wish for: a four wheeler. With the main rule of the wish system being that I must desire what I wish for, I have no problem poofing up a brand new, yellow ATV. Sawyer and I excitedly hop on. He takes the front to drive, and I'm fine with riding on the back.

Our excitement quickly diminishes when Sawyer pushes the start button and the engine turns over, but won't start. He tries it three times, and then sighs.

"Hmm. Maybe check the gas tank?" I suggest.

He nods, unscrews the lid, and peers into the hole. Then I hear him chuckle and he shakes his head. "Hey Autumn? You wanna wish for some gas?"

One wish and a few gallons of gas later, we take off around the lake, curving and twisting around the trees. I silently wish for a wide, open field for us to ride in, and a minute later, the trees in front of us open up and we emerge into green countryside that rolls on for miles ahead of us. This definitely wasn't here before.

Sawyer looks back at me and shouts above the roar of the wind, "You did this, didn't you?"

"Yep!" I grin.

"This is so much better!"

The afternoon quickly fades into evening as we burn hours and miles on the four wheeler. The sun is low on our backs as we head home when Sawyer slows to a stop halfway back. He twists around to look at me.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I've got another wish for you to make."

"Oh, the day's not over yet?"

"Nope. I want you to wish for your dream concert."

I gasp. That's such a good idea that I can't believe I haven't thought of myself.

"Our own Second Sons concert? Oh, Sawyer! That's the best idea ever!" I squeal. Second Sons has been my favorite band since I was twelve. One of my biggest dreams was to see them in concert, but they were never close enough and we weren't rich enough.

He smiles proudly. "Whatever your heart desires, babe."

I clasp my hands, close my eyes, and tilt my chin to the sky. "I wish for our own private Second Sons concert back at the cabin!" I yell, my voice echoing on in the vast wilderness. Then I put my hands on Sawyer's shoulders. "Let's hit it!"

"Say no more," he answers and kicks the four wheeler into gear. 

As we come onto the property, I scan the surroundings for any signs of a pop rock band. I find nothing - no bus, no equipment, and no band members. As Sawyer parks us on the side of the house, I wonder to myself, are dream concerts not allowed? I haven't had a wish let me down yet, though. The engine kills over and Sawyer climbs off.

"Hmm," he hums. "Maybe they're inside. There's no way they're not here."

"Only one way to find out." I swing my leg over the seat and hop off.

Sawyer follows me around to the front of the cabin, up the porch steps, and into the house. I hold my breath as I swing open the door. There at the threshold, through the open doorway, I am met with four faces I know but have never met.

Brothers Rylan and Nathan, the guitarist and drummer respectively, along with bass player, Bryce, and his brother and the lead singer of the band, Cole, are standing in the middle of the living room. Their six-foot-statures, mid-twenties hairdos and Cole's redneck mustache are here and in the flesh. Rylan and Bryce have their guitars strapped on and Nathan holds his drumsticks in his hand. They're ready for a concert.

"Oh, hey Autumn!" Cole says kindly. "We heard you wanted a private concert, so here we are!"

I stand there, mouth agape and stunned into silence, until Sawyer gives me a gentle clap on the shoulder, bringing me back to life. 

He says, "Are you going to block the doorway all night or are we going to see a concert?" 

I look back and find him smiling at me. 

 The guys set up a makeshift stage on the front porch as evening fades into nightfall. With the help of some flashy stage lights, the entire front side of the cabin is illuminated. Sawyer and I sit in lawn chairs out front to watch.

Throughout the performance, Sawyer periodically reaches for my hand and holds it for awhile. I think it's because he doesn't appreciate the goo-goo eyes I must be making at Cole. I've always thought he was the best-looking of the group. I suppose he was another celebrity crush of mine. Looking between him and Sawyer, it was no wonder why I felt such a spark for Sawyer from the get-go. They looked quite similar, from the sparkly eyes and the dark hair to their height. Cole just looked about ten years older and had more of a homely style.

He announced their last song, which happened to be my favorite, before kicking into it. I looked at Sawyer as the intro music played. "I can't thank you enough for this. This whole day has been absolutely amazing. I can honestly say I feel at peace with this being our forever." I lean in for a kiss, and Sawyer meets me halfway.

"I'm happy to hear that," he answers. "Our best day ever's not quite over yet."

If Sawyer says anything else, I don't hear it. Even the music fades out as everything goes black again. Involuntarily, I relax into the back of my chair.

Another message comes through the veil. I hear faint background noises: random beeps and dings, a clock ticking, something that sounds like the squealing of a loose wheel on a shopping cart, and hushed voices having a conversation I can't understand; a discussion. Though I can't make out the words, I can tell they don't all agree with the topic at hand. 

Then as quickly as it came, it goes. I hear the music again. Cole is singing the first verse of the song. I glance at Sawyer. He's watching on happily, clueless as to what I had just experienced. For some reason, a chill goes down my spine. I shake it off and distractedly watch the last few minutes of the concert.

The song comes to an end, and Sawyer and I give the band a standing ovation. Cole takes a bow. Nathan stands behind his drum kit and raises his sticks in the air. Rylan turns off his amp and takes off his guitar. Bryce gives us a wave.

"Encore! Encore!" Sawyer yells.

"Thanks, guys. Hope y'all enjoyed the show," Cole speaks through the mic. "Sorry bro, we're out of time. We've got to be in Vegas tomorrow."

I grin to myself. Just like the case with my parents, I knew these guys weren't the actual Second Sons - they were the Celestial version. Therefore, they technically didn't have anywhere else they needed to be, but they acted in typical '2S' fashion.

"Besides," Cole added, "You've still got another item on your agenda."

I look confusedly at Sawyer, and that's when I remember - the rowboat. He said we were supposed to take the rowboat out today. 

Sawyer nods and looks at me. "That I do."

Cole comes down the porch steps and walks toward me with open arms. "Hug for the road?"

"Sure," I smile. Twelve year old me would be having a coronary right now. 

Cole gives me a tight squeeze and says goodbye before going back up to the porch to help the guys pack up their equipment.

"Well, I suppose that's my cue," Sawyer says beside me and reaches out his hand. "How about that rowboat ride?"

"I've been waiting all day," I say with a smile and slip my hand into his.

Sawyer and I begin walking hand in hand toward the dock. It's a gorgeous night out. The lake is illuminated in star and moonlight. There's something about the night sky that makes it feel more romantic. The air is cool, and the breeze has a slight chill to it.

"I hate to pull you away from living out all your 2S dreams," Sawyer says softly.

I glance back at the band, still milling around on our porch. "Ah, I can bring them back any old time. I have a feeling today can't be replicated."

"Best days ever aren't supposed to be," he squeezes my hand.

We come to a stop when our toes reach the edge of the dock and the lip of the boat. Sawyer keeps hold of my hand as I step down. The boat rocks a little in the water. Then he lets go and takes a not-so-gentle step into the boat, causing it to lurch. I nearly fall over in the process.

"Sorry," he apologizes, but smiles after I laugh it off.

While Sawyer unties us from the dock, I take the seat at the back of the boat, facing forwards. I've never been in a rowboat before, but this is how they do it in the movies.

He points to the other seat nearest to the bow where the paddler sits. "You sure you don't want to captain this baby?"

"It's all yours. You're the big, strong football player. I'll sit right here and look pretty," I smirk.

"Suit yourself," he jokes as he sits down facing me, his back toward the middle of the lake. I watch as he slides the oars out from under the plank he's sitting on and one at a time, slides the handles through each loop on either side of the boat.

"That looks right. Alright, let's see how this goes." He grabs the handles, preparing to row, then his eyebrows furrow. "Am I facing the right direction?"

"I think so," I nod.

"But I can't see where I'm going."

"Just paddle straight, and I'll be your eyes."

With his left arm, he pushes us away from the dock for takeoff. His arms begin making circular motions and slowly, we start to move. I remain quiet, admiring the scenery as he gets the hang of it and falls into a pattern.

He grunts, "I'm still dreaming about that speed boat."

I smile to myself. "So why save this for the end of the day?"

"Best for last, I figured," he answers simply. "And I think it's prettier out here at night."

I nod in agreement. "I can't argue with that."

"Am I still going straight?"

"For the most part."

"Okay."

I eyeball him. "What's the plan? Are we just gonna hang out on the lake for awhile?"

"If you want to," he answers.

"I don't care. I'm here for the ride. I just hope by the time this is over, I have an answer."

"An answer for what?"

"Why you did all this. Your whole "best day ever" explanation isn't cutting the mustard."

"Then I guess there's one more surprise waiting for you," he teases me with a grin.

A few more minutes of paddling and labored breathing later, and we make it somewhere thereabouts to the middle of the lake. I call it, and Sawyer lets go of the oars. "Thank God!" He exclaims, slightly out of breath. "Now...there's some things I need to say to you." 

"And you had to come all the way out here to say them?" I chuckle.

"Yes," he states. He looks at me with sincerity, and when I realize he's being serious, my smile fades.

"Autumn, you had to see this coming. This is our new forever. It's you and me. We're stuck together. We're connected for eternity. And I'm happy for that. There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with. I knew I loved you from the moment you let me steal your Oreos. So we might as well make it official." 

He gets up and kneels down on one knee in the floor of the boat. I realize what's going on as his right hand slides into the pocket of his jeans. He pulls it out and opens his palm in front of me, revealing a ring that was made from a twisted vine. Two smaller vines are twisted together like a braid, and in place of a diamond, it was adorned with a white clover.

"Autumn White, will you marry me?"

I take one look into his hopeful eyes, and immediately exclaim, "Yes!"

I cup his cheeks in my palms and force my lips onto his. His arms wrap around me, holding me. Our lips part, but our foreheads remain touching.

"Yes, I will marry you, Sawyer Stephens," I repeat as a happy tear slides down my cheek.

"Let me see your hand," he pulls away from me. I hold my left hand out to him, and he slides the homemade ring onto my ring finger.

"Sorry it's not gold and diamonds, but I couldn't exactly ask you to wish yourself up a ring. This is just a temporary one," he explains.

"It's perfect, you idiot," I laugh and hold my hand up to observe the little craft. "I love it."

We make ourselves comfy in the bottom of the boat. I cuddle into his side and he holds his arm around me. My head lays against his shoulder and his cheek rests on my head as we stare up at the moon. We stay like that for awhile.