37. Sydney
“We’ve got the ground fully graded, ready to begin constructing the glamping tents,” Neal says as he shows me around the area behind the lodge that we’ve mapped out for the tents. “I just need the green light from you.”
“Perfect. And you have space to fit five fully functioning, electricity-equipped tents in this space?” I ask, feeling skeptical as I note how tight everything is going to be here. We’ve downsized my original plan and removed several features in order to make it fit, but I’m still not convinced we’ll be able to squeeze it all in this relatively small space.
“Yup.” He nods, looking far more confident than I feel. “The crew should be finished with the last cabin tomorrow, so we can start out here the day after that if you’re ready?”
“Yes, let’s plan for that.” I try to look excited, but I can’t help the sigh that inadvertently comes from me. It definitely won’t be as stunning as I initially dreamed it would be out on Cole’s property. There won’t be as many tents as I wanted, not to mention the million-dollar view, space to put an outdoor kitchen, or even room to put individual fire pits in front of each tent…but we’ll just have to make the best of it. It’s all we can do.
It will be perfect.
Cole’s voice plays in my head, reminding me that it doesn’t need to be exceptional. Sometimes it’s okay to settle for good enough.
Perhaps that’s true for more than just this renovation. Maybe it really is okay that it took years to come back to see Mom after she was gone, despite the guilt I still feel about it. Maybe trying my best and doing it on my own time has always been enough.
“Perfect. Thanks, Neal,” I tell him. “Let me know how I can help. I’ve got the furniture for the tents being delivered sometime in the next week or two, so hopefully the timing will work out well for that.”
“We’ll get them done as fast as we can,” he says confidently. “We’re in the home stretch now, aren’t we?”
“That’s right.” A flutter of butterflies hits me as I remember just how close we are to the end.
“Just a few more weeks and you can get back to your life down in Minneapolis. I bet you’re antsy to get home.” He chuckles, completely oblivious to how much emotional weight the word home holds for me.
This island and Baudette will always partially be home to me, of course, and the people I have here. But my life down in Minneapolis seems like home to me too. Even so, as much as both of those places do, another place that felt as close to home as anything else was in Cole’s arms last night.
That realization further complicates my plans for after this renovation is finished and leaves my future path in question. I tuck that thought away for another time and smile at Neal.
“It’s not so bad here,” I say simply with a wink. “Alright, as always, thanks for everything. I’ll be back to check in later.”
“You got it.” He smiles and waves as he heads toward his crew while I turn the opposite direction and head toward the dock to meet Graham and Blair.
Hi, Mom.
Graham showed me a box with some old photos yesterday. I found one of the four of us at a Twins game. I must have been seven or eight. Graham was all pouty because we lost to the Chicago White Sox and there was a huge ketchup stain on my shirt. Despite the minor looks of irritation on our faces, we still looked ridiculously happy. Dad was grinning proudly and you were tucked happily under his arm.
It made me smile, is all. Just wanted to tell you.
Blair’s yelp of a cheer brings my attention up from the journal. Graham, Dad, Mom, and Blair are all sitting at the table by the window playing cards.
“Here you go, Mom,” Graham says as he deals the cards, placing some in front of her. She looks a little lost and unfocused from where she sits in the chair, and each time I lay eyes on her, it sends a sharp twist of something heavy to my chest. But the sight of them doing a normal activity like that together is soothing to see. It reminds me of old times when the four of us used to play cards out at the lodge while we waited for guests to arrive. Now with Blair added in, it’s truly heartwarming to see so many of my favorite people in one place.
I glance up periodically, watching them as I write from the chair next to Mom’s bed, quickly losing track of time.
When a text message notification comes through from inside my purse, I dig it out. A buzzing anticipation flushes across my skin simply at the sight of the name on my phone.
Cole: I got finished with Paul early. We found a house for him. He’s putting an offer in tomorrow morning. I just got to the nursing home, so I’ll be by the nurse’s station whenever you’re ready to head back. Take your time.
I ruminate over his words, staring at them while a thought comes to mind. I inhale slowly, contemplating whether I’m ready for this step or not. With one more glance up at my family, I realize I already know the answer.
Sydney: Actually…do you want to come in?
He replies almost instantly.
Cole: Are you sure?
Sydney: Yes. Only if you want to, though.
I wait for him to reply again, but instead, a knock comes at the door less than twenty seconds later. With a sideways glance at Graham, who has his eyes pinned on me, I meet Cole at the door.
“Hi,” I say softly, opening the door wide for him to come through. He runs a hand down my back in greeting, and I lead him over to the table.
Everyone’s eyes fall on me—except Mom’s, of course—and I know judging by their faces that they’re also taking in the seriousness of this moment. The fact that I’m introducing Cole to my mom is telling of how significant he’s become to me.
I open my mouth then realize I’m not quite sure what to say. Do I introduce him to Mom? I haven’t gotten used to talking directly to her yet, so I falter. Do I announce him to the group as a whole?
Thankfully, Graham hops out of his seat, pulling me out of the awkwardness I seem to be frozen in, and reaches for another chair.
“Cole, I hope you know how to play gin rummy,” he says, sliding the chair up to the table.
“I do not,” Cole laughs softly. “But I’m a quick learner.”
My heart settles—even soars—as I scoot my own chair in between Cole and Graham. Two steady sources of strength for me, which I’m finding comforting in this moment. I keep my gaze on Cole out of the corner of my eye while my dad rambles off instructions for the game.
“Does that make sense?” Dad asks when he’s done.
“A little,” Cole says, and I bite back a smile when I can tell that he still has no clue how to play.
“You’ll pick it up as we go,” I tell him, laying my head on his shoulder.
From this angle, I have a direct shot at Blair across the table, who gives me a wink and a knowing smile. This time, I don’t attempt to hide my smile as I wink back to her.
Dad deals the cards to each of us, and we start playing the game. Mom may not know everyone she’s playing with, but she somehow remembers the game well enough to play, which I find oddly comforting.
As the next hour passes, I note the importance of every single person at this table and how this moment feels absolutely perfect to me.
It feels like family.