As she shuffles toward the door, I cross the room to the chest with blankets inside.When I turn back, Mila is standing in the doorway.
“I’ve dumped a lot on you tonight and given you a lot to consider, but…I think we should do this even if we can’t get out of the non-compete clause,” she says.“Six months is nothing in the grand scheme of things.We could take that time to plan, figure out where we want to be based, and hire the people we’ll need to help us run the business.Look at the response to my post from earlier.We could post some strategic content, hint that something big is coming, and build up a bunch of hype before the big reveal.”
I bob my head slowly, my whole upper body swaying with the motion.
“Have I broken your brain?”Mila asks, and I laugh, nodding harder.“Okay, just one more thing and then I promise I’m done for tonight.Don’t hate me for playing the Dead Dad Card here, but what would Seamus say about us putting our dreams on hold?Or letting other people have a say in our future?”
“Oof, right in the feels,” I murmur, chuckling as I place a hand over my heart.She’s right, of course.About all of it.Dad left her that money for a reason.Just like he left Nathan the house in Ireland for a reason, even if I still can’t quite wrap my head around it.
The words Dad wrote on the note attached to the cheque flit through my mind:Take a leap.That was one of his mantras in life.He said it to me countless times.Liam told me once that Dad said it to him and Nathan when they were uncertain about starting Honeywell Handymen.Dad always said the philosophy served him well in life and that everything he’d accomplished had come from taking leaps, even when it was terrifying.Especiallywhen it was terrifying.
I inhale deeply and let it out slowly.“We both know what he’d say.AndIsay…one way or another, we’ll make this happen.”
Mila squeals and runs back across the room, dropping the box on the floor before throwing herself into my arms.I stagger back, managing to catch myself before tumbling over and taking her with me.We’re both laughing and crying now, our arms wound tightly around each other as we sway back and forth.
Mila jerks away suddenly, swiping at her tear-stained face, and retrieving the box from the floor.“If I don’t leave now, I’m going to want to start making plans, and I promised I was done for the night.”
“Plus jet-lag brain and life-changing plans don’t really go hand in hand,” I point out.
“True enough.Okay, good night for real.”
This time, I watch her until she actually leaves, and I can hear her footsteps receding down the treehouse stairs.I gather an armful of blankets and arrange them into a small nest on the floor so I can stargaze through the skylight.I turn off the overhead light and smile to myself at how pretty and cozy the space looks lit by fairy lights.I settle on the floor and let my thoughts drift.They’re still chaotic, bouncing from Dad to business plans to how Mum will fare on her own when I leave…to Nathan.
They linger on Nathan; his smile at various points tonight, the way he squirmed in his chair when we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him, the way we kept catching each other’s eyes throughout the evening.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I hear footsteps approaching.I wonder if Mila’s busy brain kept her awake, and she’s returned to break her promise about being done for the night.When the door opens, it’s Nathan’s large body that fills the doorframe, backlit by the soft glow of lights from the house.
“I was about to leave when Mila came in,” he says, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing one leg in front of himself.“She made a point of telling me you were still out here.The sensible part of my brain told me to go home and stay there.”
“And yet here you are,” I say, pushing myself into a seated position.
“Here I am.Funny thing is, the sensible part of my brain usually wins.”
“What’s different now?”I ask.
He lets out a dark chuckle, running one hand along his stubbled jaw.“You,” he says with a sigh.“I remembered something I had at home, and I went to get it.I thought it might make it easier for us to talk…”
At my questioning look, he holds up a bottle.It’s too dark to see it clearly, and for a second, I wonder if it’s a bottle of Jameson.
“Summer wine,” Nathan says.Those two words evoke a flood of memories.“I’ve been saving it since last year and didn’t know why.Now I think I do.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN ~ NATHAN
Summer wine.
Murph started making it when Fiona, Liam, and I were in our early teens.Honeywell experienced a bumper crop of strawberries one year, and after we all joked we were a few berries away from embodying the saying ‘you are what you eat’, Murph got the idea to make homemade wine.
“Strawberries, cherries, and an angel’s kiss in spring,” he’d said, quoting what we’d later learn was a line from the song “Summer Wine” by Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra.He’d hummed and sung the song endlessly that summer as he worked in his wine-making station in the basement.He was so proud of himself when the first bottles were ready, and he remained proud through the years as he continued to make the stuff every summer.
Silence hangs in the treehouse.I remain where I am in the doorway, waiting for…what?I’m not sure.An invitation?A rejection?Since I’m apparently incapable of being the sensible one right now, part of me hopes Fiona will tell me to leave.Point out that us being alone together is a bad idea.And that us being alone togetherwith alcoholis an even worse idea.
Finally, she scoots over and pats the space on the floor next to her.“Summer wine always tasted better when we shared it.”
I join her, kicking off my boots before stepping onto the blankets.I’m tempted to leave a few feet of space between us, but it didn’t occur to me to bring glasses, so we’ll have to pass the bottle back and forth.
“Remember when Bono and The Corrs released a live version of ‘Summer Wine’?”Fiona asks as I settle in beside her.“Dad was like, ‘Sorry Lee and Nancy, but my allegiance lies with my fellow countrymen’.”
I chuckle, opening the bottle and handing it to her so she can take the first sip.“That was the only version he listened to from then on.”
