Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
His nod is instant.
Excited.
“Why would you wanna give Kendall one of these?”
“Because it comes from our family,” he gestures with a tip of the chin. “Those are made from original Wilcox barrels. This was you paying homage-”
“Excellent word.”
“-to the big kahuna in our fam. Showing him and our ancestors you respect where we came from. Where all this started. Preserving a piece of our history in a pretty epic way. Plus…” a less than innocent lip scrunch is given, “I want her to have something with my name on it.”
“Because you want the world to know she’s yours.”
“Yeah.”
Yes.
He is absolutely my son.
Prideful nodding is attached to me placing the lid back on it. “Can you show me what else is going in the box you’re taking her for Christmas?”
Wyland’s jaw immediately drops over the statement.
“Weather permitting.”
“You…you…you yankin’ my leash?!”
“I don’t enjoy that phrase, but no, son. I’m not ‘yanking your leash’.” A single deep breath makes itself heard prior to me proceeding. “You recall that your biological grandparents died in a plane crash?”
“Your parents and then, Mom’s dad was the pilot. It’s how you got your scars.”
“Yes. And that accident occurred during bad weather that I pushed my family into over a girl that I was dating at the time.” I force myself to continue in spite of the ache spreading in my chest. “Which is the main reason I have been opposed to traveling during such a potentially treacherous time.”
“You blame yourself for their deaths?”
“Exclusively.”
My confession causes him to scoot closer.
Demolish more of the metaphorical wall.
“Survivors guilt is something I’ve lived with for most of my life, and the reason I initially turned to alcohol to cope. And while it’s something I like to think I’ve completely healed from, it’s in moments like this, I realize I haven’t.”
“Dad…”
“However, it’s unfair to punish you…to keep you…from living your life because of my fears.” Another long, loud exhale is executed. “There’s no reason we can’t go to Doctenn for Christmas particularly when the whole family supports the decision.”
Elation soars through his expression despite his best efforts to keep it contained.
“As long as the weather reports are in our favor-”
“They are! They are!” He scurries to my side of the mattress. “I’ve been watching them nonstop to make sure that they are! That they stay that way! The ice storm that was predicted to hit Doctenn turned the opposite direction this morning, and from here to there for the next few days is smooth flying. I even asked O’Malley to double check all the weather patterns for me, and if it was safe.” The arrival directly next to me is attached a softer smile. “I really wanted go, but not if there was any way our family was gonna get hurt. Nothing is worth that.”
Inexplicable warmth soothes the pangs in my chest. “You’re a good kid, Fins.”
“You’re a good dad, Dad.” His announcement barely precedes him throwing his arms warmly around me. “I love you.”
Squeezing him tighter is my only option, and truthfully, it’s the only one I need. “I love you too, son.”
Chapter 7
Wes
Did I expect to spend two hours with my son, just one on one?
No.
Did I expect him to share with me everything in his giftbox?
No.
Did I expect him to ask me advice about a “fakie” trying to float in on his territory or how to have long distance territory?
Hell no.
And fuck, I don’t even know if I did the last one correctly, but I tried.
He let me try.
He didn’t brush me off.
He didn’t insist on asking one of his uncles or Bryn.
He listened to me.
And I listened to him.
As much as it pains me to admit, J.T. was right.
Getting to really know my son is a gift.
The perfect gift.
I’m not sure that there’s anything better.
Walking into our luxury, black with gold accents bedroom occurs at the same time I’m finishing up the call with O’Malley, our newest pilot. “Let’s say one o’clock.”
“Is that a Wes one o’clock or a Bryn one o’clock or should I split the difference?”
I gently shut and lock the door behind me once I’m inside. “The latter may be in everyone’s best interest. The girls understand punctuality; however, the rest of the household – which includes J.T. and his league– are rarely as prompt when it comes to family outings.”
“Understood, Sir.”
“Leaving at that time should put us there rather late; however, it’ll allow us to spend all of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Doctenn without having most of it eaten up by travel.” My attention wanders around the room, curiously scanning for the troublemaker I married. “Let’s plan to fly home the 27th. J.T. and I have our annual in-house distillery and brewer’s conference the 28th.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You and Baird are welcomed to stay in the guesthouse during our duration – per usual – and are of course invited to any festivities we may engage in.”