Next year though, we’ll want to have all of us. If that’s okay.” She tilted her chin down and looked at me and then at Max.
I smiled and gripped her chin forcing her to look at me. “Hey, your family with Matt is just as important as Wes’s and Cyndi’s. Okay? We’ll do our best to get together for the holidays and make it as even as we can. Heck, there’s plenty of room here. And with Wes’s and Max’s plans for the two ranches, there will be plenty of room in Texas, too.”
Her eyes widened. “What plans?”
Max grinned and steepled his hands under his chin. “Wes wants to buy one of the farm houses and the land next to our home.”
“You’re moving to Texas?” Maddy started wiggling in her seat like she had ants in her pants.
“Ugh. No, yes. Kind of. Max, you suck!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. He just smirked. “Wes wants to have a home away from home. What better place than where Max and his family are? And since you and Matt will be looking to move to Texas in a couple years, that’s where you’ll be.”
“Oh my god! This. Is. Awesome! I’m going to have my brother and sister in the same place.” She smiled so wide it made the dark room seem brighter.
Wes made his way over with a tray of tequila shots. Not three. A tray. Full. He set the tray down, pulled up a chair, and sat. Matt slid into the booth next to Max. “I heard there was some drinking that needed to commence. Shall we?” Wes grinned. I loved that grin. It spoke of lightheartedness, naked times in bed, and lazy Sundays ahead of me. Endless days of being loved and loving in return. That’s what my life would be like with Wes as my husband. I could not wait.
We each picked up a shot. “To the future,” I said.
“Endless possibilities.” Maddy beamed.
“To family,” Max finished.
The five of us drank and scarfed down tons of pub food until Matt volunteered to stop drinking and drive us all back. The rest of us kept partying, because we had been collectively delivered a blow about our mother. What was there left to do but live for today? And we did. All night long.
----
K ent set up the time for the chat with our mother two days before Christmas. The day weighed heavily on each of us as Max drove us up the gravel drive to a sprawling log cabin mansion, much like the cabin Wes’s family owned. It wasn’t even that far from his. It took all of five minutes to get to Kent and Meryl Banks’s—Banks was the name she was living under now—home.
Kent answered the door and led us into an enormous open living room. There were windows showcasing the view, but not an entire wall like at Wes’s cabin. This one had perfect circular windows like what you’d see in a ship, only much larger than a porthole. These windows had at least a five-foot circumference, maybe more. A set of French doors in the distance, off the modern kitchen, looked like how one would access the outdoor patio. The kitchen had droplights in frosted royal blue that hung down in the all-white kitchen. The only spot of color were the lights and the ceramics on the granite slab counter tops. Everything was ultra-modern yet still felt homey. Touches of fabric broke up the color blocks of white here and there throughout the living room.
The most stunning feature, and the focal point of the room, was a painting hanging above the giant fireplace. It was a lifelike image of the landscape beyond the house, only in the spring when the view would be green and bursting with color. The artist who painted it had serious talent and an incredible eye for detail.
On the far edge of the oversized sectional sat our mother. She wore black leggings and a white chunky sweater. Her hair was so black against the sweater. It shined with almost a deep blue hue from this distance.
“Come, have a seat.” Kent gestured to the couches.
The three of us walked around the back of the couch and sat as one united front directly opposite Meryl. Kent took the seat next to
I smiled and gripped her chin forcing her to look at me. “Hey, your family with Matt is just as important as Wes’s and Cyndi’s. Okay? We’ll do our best to get together for the holidays and make it as even as we can. Heck, there’s plenty of room here. And with Wes’s and Max’s plans for the two ranches, there will be plenty of room in Texas, too.”
Her eyes widened. “What plans?”
Max grinned and steepled his hands under his chin. “Wes wants to buy one of the farm houses and the land next to our home.”
“You’re moving to Texas?” Maddy started wiggling in her seat like she had ants in her pants.
“Ugh. No, yes. Kind of. Max, you suck!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. He just smirked. “Wes wants to have a home away from home. What better place than where Max and his family are? And since you and Matt will be looking to move to Texas in a couple years, that’s where you’ll be.”
“Oh my god! This. Is. Awesome! I’m going to have my brother and sister in the same place.” She smiled so wide it made the dark room seem brighter.
Wes made his way over with a tray of tequila shots. Not three. A tray. Full. He set the tray down, pulled up a chair, and sat. Matt slid into the booth next to Max. “I heard there was some drinking that needed to commence. Shall we?” Wes grinned. I loved that grin. It spoke of lightheartedness, naked times in bed, and lazy Sundays ahead of me. Endless days of being loved and loving in return. That’s what my life would be like with Wes as my husband. I could not wait.
We each picked up a shot. “To the future,” I said.
“Endless possibilities.” Maddy beamed.
“To family,” Max finished.
The five of us drank and scarfed down tons of pub food until Matt volunteered to stop drinking and drive us all back. The rest of us kept partying, because we had been collectively delivered a blow about our mother. What was there left to do but live for today? And we did. All night long.
----
K ent set up the time for the chat with our mother two days before Christmas. The day weighed heavily on each of us as Max drove us up the gravel drive to a sprawling log cabin mansion, much like the cabin Wes’s family owned. It wasn’t even that far from his. It took all of five minutes to get to Kent and Meryl Banks’s—Banks was the name she was living under now—home.
Kent answered the door and led us into an enormous open living room. There were windows showcasing the view, but not an entire wall like at Wes’s cabin. This one had perfect circular windows like what you’d see in a ship, only much larger than a porthole. These windows had at least a five-foot circumference, maybe more. A set of French doors in the distance, off the modern kitchen, looked like how one would access the outdoor patio. The kitchen had droplights in frosted royal blue that hung down in the all-white kitchen. The only spot of color were the lights and the ceramics on the granite slab counter tops. Everything was ultra-modern yet still felt homey. Touches of fabric broke up the color blocks of white here and there throughout the living room.
The most stunning feature, and the focal point of the room, was a painting hanging above the giant fireplace. It was a lifelike image of the landscape beyond the house, only in the spring when the view would be green and bursting with color. The artist who painted it had serious talent and an incredible eye for detail.
On the far edge of the oversized sectional sat our mother. She wore black leggings and a white chunky sweater. Her hair was so black against the sweater. It shined with almost a deep blue hue from this distance.
“Come, have a seat.” Kent gestured to the couches.
The three of us walked around the back of the couch and sat as one united front directly opposite Meryl. Kent took the seat next to
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