Chapter Forty-One
Brew
W e stand at my gate, watching as her friends load their belongings.
“Thanks for everything. The boys sure enjoyed the trip,” Graham says as he tosses the last of the bags into his truck.
“It was my pleasure. You’re welcome to bring them back down anytime,” I offer.
“Yeah, and you should come up to our neck of the woods, and we’ll take you fly-fishing,” he says. “Lennon did a decent job last night, but you haven’t lived until our pop fries you up a batch of fresh mountain trout.”
“I bet. I have been wanting to get up there and check out Misty Mountain,” I agree.
“Langford blows snow at the resort until mid-March, but Mother Nature has been particularly generous with the real thing this year. You should come hit the slopes before race season gets back into full swing,” Garrett notes.
“I might just do that. Ida Mae is expected home after the New Year, and I’ll be in Charlotte, so I could escape for a long weekend when Brandee gets home,” I say.
Garrett’s smile widens. “I’m glad to hear that you two are making plans.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure how it will all work,” I say as I rub the back of my neck.
He shrugs. “It’s not always easy when you live the lifestyle we do,” he says. “But it’s not always hard when you love someone either. It’s just logistics.”
He extends his hand, and I shake it.
“Thanks, man.”
The girls say their goodbyes. Brandee rests her hand on Taeli’s stomach, and the two exchange one last tear-filled hug. At the same time, Erin and Jena tease them.
“Jeez, you’ll see us again in a few weeks, you big baby,” Erin says as she hugs Brandee goodbye. “And you, Mr. Sexy Bartender, I’d better see you again real soon as well.”
I assure her that Balsam Ridge is on my itinerary for a stop when I have weekend events in Nashville in March, Bristol in June, and Nashville again in October.
“You’re going to get sick of me,” I promise her.
Brandee and I stayed up all night talking.
I shared with her my plans to return to Charlotte in mid-January and gave her a brief overview of my schedule for the race season.
We discussed how I could fly into Knoxville once a month and she could drive down to Charlotte.
On occasion, when it worked for both of us, she could even fly out to meet me at the races and events.
As we continued our conversation, we realized it wouldn’t be as difficult as we’d initially thought to make time for each other.
We could spend three days together every other week and the entire offseason with a little effort.
And I know she’s worth the effort because, as I watch her friends drive away, I picture her in the car with them, leaving and never returning to Sandcastle Cove. The thought of never seeing her again—never holding or kissing her, never waking up to her—makes me physically ill.
So, I tell her I love her. This time as I’m ravaging her to make sure she doesn’t miss it.
We make promises and plans—plans that will grow and evolve as our journey together continues.
But the sands are shifting through the hourglass, and I don’t see a reason to go slow.
I want to dive headfirst into the future with her.
Life is full of small decisions you make every day, which, when you look back on them, turn out to be significant.
These decisions are neither right nor wrong; they simply serve as pivots onto different paths.
Along the way, you experience both good and bad, joy and misery, beauty and ruin.
The key is to keep moving forward. Eventually, you’ll encounter more crossroads, allowing you to choose a different direction.
So, instead of dwelling on the past and analyzing every step you took, focus on the future and make your next choice based on the knowledge and experience you’ve gained.
That’s what shapes your story and builds a beautiful life.
We’re just two souls who were at a crossroads, searching for something more, and we found it at the end of my bar—with a little help from a dirty martini and a dash of island magic.