Chapter Sixteen ~ Fiona
By the time I make it downstairs after getting dressed, Liam, Joss, Thea, and Rex have arrived, and the house smells like Mum’s famous lasagna.
I have no idea how she managed to make one so quickly, but then again, Mum is clearly full of surprises, as evidenced by the wonderfully bizarre image of my best friend talking and laughing with Joss as they set the kitchen table.
Mum puts me in charge of drinks, and before I know it, the eight of us are crowded around the table. There’s an extra place setting, and I wonder if another surprise guest is on their way, until I notice one of Dad’s cardigans draped over the back of the empty seat.
“Family dinner,” Mum says quietly when she sees where I’m looking. Her eyes are dry and clear. She swallows hard, making me think she likely has a thick lump in her throat too.
Mila’s presence in the house is the breath of fresh air none of us knew we needed.
Over dinner, she regales us with tales from her travels, looping me in every few minutes to tell a story with her.
My gaze strays regularly to Nathan. I normally avoid talking about my adventures in front of him since it’s been a sore subject for so long, but he laughs along with the others, and even chimes in with a few questions and comments.
We move to the living room for dessert—cherry bakewells Mila bought at one of my favourite bakeries in London this morning before her flight—and then Nathan and Liam insist on cleaning the kitchen. While they’re doing that, Rex drags Mila and me out to the treehouse.
After showing Mila every inch of the space, his sweet little face alight with pleasure at her oohs and ahhs, Rex grabs a giant blanket and insists the three of us curl up in the beanbag chair.
To my surprise, Rex wants to hear more about the times Mila and I visited Dad in Ireland, and he doesn’t bat an eye during the moments when our laughter is mixed with tears.
By nine o’clock, both of them are asleep, each with a head on my shoulder.
Part of me wishes I could doze off too. My body is heavy with exhaustion, but my mind won’t shut off.
I close my eyes anyway, sensing an impending wave of emotion swelling inside me.
Tears slip past my closed eyelids, and I let them come, feeling safe and grounded between two of the people I love most.
When I hear footsteps outside, I assume it’s Liam coming to get Rex. As the sound draws closer, that familiar sixth sense kicks in, and I know it’s Nathan.
The door opens slowly. His large frame fills the doorway, while his presence fills the entire treehouse. A small smile graces his face when he sees the scene before him.
“Want me to just leave you all here for the night?” he asks.
“I’d be tempted to say yes if my hands and feet weren’t already asleep.”
He crosses the room and crouches in front of Rex, his expression so soft and loving, it nearly takes my breath away.
His gaze lands briefly on me, then returns when he sees I’ve been crying.
Before I can move to swipe my tear-soaked face, he shifts toward me, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks.
That tender, open expression lingers on his face, making fresh tears prickle at my eyes.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Today has been a lot, but in the best ways,” I say. “Thank you again for bringing Mila to me.”
“Of course. You and Mae really lit up tonight with her around. It was nice to see.” He offers me the barest hint of a smile before reaching for Rex and scooping him up. Rex lets out a sleepy sigh and burrows into Nathan, burying his face in his neck.
“You going to be okay getting Mila inside?” Nathan asks.
“Yeah, I’ll just—”
“Will you come back and carry me next, Nathan?” Mila asks. The weight of her head leaves my shoulder, and she winks at me before aiming a grin at Nathan.
He chuckles. “Sorry, you’re on your own. I’m getting too old for this shit.” With a groan, he readjusts Rex so he’s got a better grip on him.
Rex’s eyes pop open, and he lifts his head from Nathan’s shoulder. His bleary eyes sweep the space before landing on me. “Auntie Fi?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Will you take me to Smurph’s house in Ireland?”
The three sets of eyes on me feel like a physical weight. Mila’s hand slides into mine, squeezing my fingers. If Rex were fully awake, I’d explain that it’s not up to me, not only because I’m not his parent or guardian, but also because the house isn’t mine.
I give the simplest answer I can at this moment: “I’ll see what I can do, buddy.”
“Okay,” Rex says, his eyes already slipping closed as he drops his head to Nathan’s shoulder once more. I look at Nathan, who gives a nod, as if reassuring me my answer was the right one.
“Good night, ladies,” he says, his eyes on Mila. His gaze slides to mine, and he adds, “I’ll see you later.” To anyone else, the words would sound like a common, off-hand farewell. I hear them as the promise they are, though, and know we’ll be seeing each other again tonight.
As Nathan leaves, Mila gives my hand another squeeze. I expect her to say something, but instead, she wriggles free from the beanbag chair, and pulls me to my feet. We shut off the fairy lights and lamps around the treehouse, and then head inside, hand in hand.
“You mind if I go to bed?” Mila asks, covering her mouth as she gives a jaw-cracking yawn.
“Not at all. Tomorrow will be another busy day with Nathan’s party.”
“I’m so excited I get to be here for it,” she says.
“Dinner tonight was magical. We’re used to being surrounded by people, but it’s always strangers.
Even when you make friends or form attachments, you know it’s fleeting before you’re off on the next adventure with a new group. Tonight felt like…home.”
Home. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of Honeywell as home, but it’s not really about the place, is it?
It’s the people. My family, both the one I was born into and the one that formed along the way.
My dad talked about that often, but I’m truly beginning to understand it on a deeper level.
“I can’t wait to see more of the town too,” Mila continues when I remain silent. “I want to do all the small-town stuff. There’d better be a festival of some sort while I’m here so I can live out my Stars Hollow dreams.”
She continues to chatter away as we make our way upstairs to the spare bedroom she’ll be staying in. I still have no idea why Mila is here or how long she’s staying, but having her here feels right. It feels like home.
* * *
Mum heads to bed about an hour later. She looks exhausted, which hopefully means she’ll sleep well tonight.
I go to my room and change into my pajamas, telling myself the sensible thing would be to go to bed too.
I still have that tired-body-wired-brain feeling from earlier in the treehouse, though.
Wrapped in one of Dad’s cardigans, I head outside to the porch swing.
He would have loved a night like tonight: good company, delicious food, entertaining stories.
Like Mila, he was a master storyteller. He was an excellent writer, as evidenced by the millions of books he sold over the course of his career, but anyone who was lucky enough to know him in real life would tell you that hearing him tell a personal story was worth its weight in gold.
He used to say the gift of the gab had been passed down to him through the generations—no kiss of the Blarney Stone required.
If he were here, we’d all likely be gathered around the fire right now, whiskey in hand, with Dad holding court.
Mila would have fought the jet lag to spend more time with him, and the others would have lingered for one more story, despite the late hour.
Rex would be curled up in Dad’s lap, lulled by the melodic lilt of his voice.
With a sigh, I set the swing rocking. Down the street, Nathan’s house is dark. Maybe I was wrong to take his ‘see you later’ literally. He could have meant tomorrow for his birthday party. I’m sure he was worn out after that five-hour drive today, plus all the socializing tonight.
His porch light turns on at the same moment I find myself hoping that he, Mum, and Mila are all sleeping soundly.
I can’t ignore the butterflies that take flight in my belly when Nathan steps outside and heads for his truck.
Even though we’ve gone for drives the last few nights, something feels different about tonight.
I suddenly feel sixteen again, on the precipice of becoming ‘more’ with Nathan after a lifetime of friendship.
Back then, I was full of a tangled blend of emotions and hormones, with anticipation and excitement at the forefront. It feels the same now.
The second Nathan pulls to a stop in front of my house, I hop off the swing and force my eager legs to walk at a normal pace down the driveway.
When I open the passenger door, I’m hit with Nathan’s familiar scent, paired with a warm wash of air from the heater.
A plaid blanket waits on my seat, and I wrap it around my legs as I get settled.
Neither of us says a word as Nathan pulls onto the road.
As always, music is playing softly from the speakers.
The other night, I discovered that what I assumed was the radio was actually a playlist coming from Nathan’s phone.
I was surprised by some of his choices, especially the songs by popular artists.
Where I’ve always had eclectic tastes with a particular fondness for top forty pop hits, Nathan was never one for mainstream music, preferring indie, alternative, and rock.
Despite that, he always let me choose the music for car rides when we were younger, and even bought my favourite cassette tapes, then CDs, to keep in the car. Hearing artists like Hozier, Ed Sheeran, and Taylor Swift coming from his speakers now without being the one to choose them is surreal.
“Mila is a real character,” Nathan says after we’ve been driving for a while.