"Tell him I'll call back." I look at Sarah and Tom. "Actually, tell him yes. Miles and I could use adult conversation that doesn't involve diapers."
"Will the twins be there?" Tom asks.
"Knowing my brothers? They're the main attraction."
Saturday afternoon finds us loading Gracie and Graham into their car seats—a process that takes approximately three times longer than it should—for the drive to Celtic Knot.
"Remember when we could just leave the house?" I ask Miles.
"Vaguely."
"Remember when we slept?"
"That's a myth."
"Remember when I didn't have spit-up on every shirt I own?"
"Nope. That never happened."
I laugh despite my exhaustion. "We're surviving this, right?"
"We're crushing this."
Celtic Knot is bustling when we arrive. The expansion is complete—new fermentation tanks gleaming, additional tasting room space, the whole operation thriving. Brennen meets us in the parking lot, practically vibrating with excitement.
"You brought them!" He's already reaching for the car seats.
"We live twenty minutes away. Where else would we leave them?"
"Fair point." He lifts Gracie's carrier with exaggerated care. "Hi sweetheart. Uncle Brennen missed you."
"You saw her three days ago," Miles points out, grabbing Graham's carrier.
"That's too long."
Inside, the family is already gathered. Ryan and Candace, Joselyn, Sophie and Alex, Julie. And—surprisingly—Daisy and Ashe from Waverly Blooms.
"Emma!" Julie swoops in for a hug. "How are you surviving?"
"Barely. Coffee and denial."
"That's the spirit."
Sophie takes Gracie from Brennen with practiced ease. "Look how big she's getting. What are they now, six weeks?"
"Six weeks and two days," Miles says automatically.
"You're counting?"
"I'm tracking everything. I have a spreadsheet."
"Of course you do."
Alex lifts Graham from his carrier, cradling him gently. "They're going to grow up running through these vines."
"Future winemakers?" Sophie asks.
"Future anything they want to be," I correct.
