dad hadn’t put up a tree after their mom had died. Dylan’s memories of his mom were hazy—no more than fleeting images—but Dee remembered those early, happy times well. For Dylan, the best times had been at the cabin.
Connor frowned. “Why were you there so much?”
Dee gave Dylan a quick glance. “Just for fun,” she answered her son, her voice light. Dylan wouldn’t have expected her to explain that their dad hadn’t been the best father.
Dylan gestured for the phone again and took another look at the photo. He wished he could see a glimpse of the inside through the windows. His grandparents had often left them open on warm nights to let in the breeze and the chirping of crickets.
“I wonder if there’s any of Grandma and Grandpa’s stuff in there,” Dee mused.
“I don’t think so. Aunt Maureen cleaned out the place when Gandma went into assisted living.”
She frowned. “I wish Dad had gotten the cedar chest for me.” Her voice carried a hint of bitterness.
“What cedar chest?” Then he remembered. “The thing she kept sweaters in?”
“Yes! She had things from her wedding in there. Like her bridal veil. She’d let me put it on and pretend I was getting married. And there was, um—a sixpence, I think. Brides back then would put one in their shoe for good luck.” Dee shook her head at the loss.
“You should buy the cabin,” Dylan blurted out. Connor and Noah could grow up there. It would be amazing.
She laughed. “Seriously?”
The boys probably wouldn’t like not having their own rooms, though. And Paul and Dee might not want to share a bathroom with them. “It’s small, but you could build an addition.”
She shook her head. “We just bought this house last spring. And the cabin isn’t even in the same school district.” She tilted her head and admitted, “Not that I didn’t think about it.”
Dylan’s memories of being there were sunlit, easy, so unlike the drabness of the rest of his existence then…and his existence now. He’d never been one to dwell on the past. Just the opposite, really. But now he thought, I want it. I want it all back.
He couldn’t get it all back, of course. He was a grown man. His grandparents were gone, in a better place. But the experience of being in the house, and all the good feelings he’d had there…he could have them again.
“I’m going to buy it,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“I’ve been thinking about buying instead of renting. It’s a good investment.”
“That’s why you want to buy this house?” she teased. “For financial reasons?”
Dylan nodded. “Sure.” The whole idea of buying it made him feel light inside, the way buying a new car hadn’t—the way no other purchase could have. It felt like life and possibility opening up again. “And the boys would love it there.”
Dee’s eyes sparkled. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“I like it,” Noah declared.
She leaned over and gave him a quick hug from behind. “It’s not a sure thing. Your uncle isn’t going to be the only one who wants it.”
Dylan said, “Nobody’s going to want it as much as I do.”
“You know what, if you tell them we used to stay there as kids, I bet it’d help.”
“That’s the last thing I’m going to do.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
“Because then the seller would ask for the moon. ‘Actually, we want twenty million dollars for this place.’” Connor and Noah giggled. This was good. The boys were learning sound bargaining practices.
“You’ve got a point,” she admitted. “Well, I’ll let you tell Dad.”
“Sure.” Dylan didn’t expect to tell him any time soon, though. Why would he, until it was a done deal?
Dee wanted him to talk to their dad more. He knew that. But she’d always been bossy, the way big sisters could be, even if these days she expressed her bossiness in more tactful ways. She had all kinds of ideas about how Dylan’s life ought to go, but Dylan was pretty sure he knew better than anyone else what was right for him. Maybe he and Dad weren’t close, but they got along okay, and that was more than a lot of people could say.
Dee looked down at the photo on her phone again. “I still miss them, you know? Especially on birthdays.”
That had probably been why she’d driven by the place this week. “They knew how to do birthdays right,” Dylan said.
“And Sunday mornings,” Dee reminded him. “Remember how Grandma would always make muffins?”
The memory came back to Dylan so vividly that he could almost smell them. Fresh-baked, flavored with maple syrup, studded with pecans. “They were so good.”
Connor said, “Uncle Dylan, I have a question.”
“Yeah, buddy, what is it?”
“Will you take me to Happy Harvest?”
Dylan frowned at the sudden change of topic. “What’s that?”
Dee said, “Happy Harvest Farms. You can go there and pick apples and choose your own pumpkin from the patch. We were going to go, but we’ve got the church yard sale.”
Connor gave his mother a wide-eyed, resentful look. “Brandon said this is the last weekend for the apples. And you get to climb the trees and it’s awesome.”
Poor kid. That did sound like more fun than hanging out at a yard sale while his parents volunteered. But Dylan couldn’t make plans for Saturday. Who knew what would be going on at work?
“Your uncle’s very busy,” Dee said.
Paige came to his mind yet again. Everyone’s busy, she’d said. Not just you. And again he had the sensation of time moving too quickly, summer to fall to winter, grandparents gone, a beloved cabin gone, he and Dee not exactly young anymore…
He could do it. The idea of visiting an orchard actually did appeal to him, and spending a few extra hours with his nephews was a good idea. “I’ll take them.”
Connor punched a fist in the air. “Yes!”
Dee’s eyebrows raised. “You’re sure? You’ll have to keep an eye on them.”
Really? He was a grown, responsible man. “I’ve taken them places before.”
“Well, it’s been a while. They’ve gotten faster and sneakier.”
“We’ll be good,” Connor said. “I’m going to go tell Noah!”
