We sit there in silence with the sound of the wind rustling the leaves and that same breeze caressing our skin, reminding us to live in the beauty of the moment.
To be present.
To see the gifts we’ve been given.
Twenty minutes have gone by and Miles leaves to set the table and to give me a few minutes on my own.
It’s still light out, but it’s that time of the evening when the mosquitoes have arrived. When they land on the water, the circles they leave on the surface mesmerize me, but I know all too well how those same mosquitoes love the way I taste, and I know it’s best if I get inside before they begin feasting on me.
Getting up from my chair and leaving the dock is the hardest thing I’ve done today. But if I’m lucky, I’ll be back.
Dinner isgreat and the fresh baked apple pie for dessert even better. The conversation is light and constant, consisting of everything from the success of harvest to Rachel and Reece in Africa and Stacci’s impending due date.
Something is mentioned about Miles and New York, but Krista shushes Mitch and tells them there will be no business at the table. As quick as she is to shut the conversation down, I have a feeling New York has something to do with the part of the business Miles and his parents haven’t been seeing eye to eye on.
Miles and I help with dishes and then say our goodbyes. Granny and Pops tell me I’m welcome anytime, and Mitch and Krista make it clear we better be over for dinner sometime this week so they can see us before they leave for Chicago to welcome their new grandbaby.
His family waits on the porch waving goodbye, but halfway to the truck, Miles stops.
“Hey guys, we're gonna go for a little walk. We won’t be long, but we gotta work off that apple pie,” he says, patting his ripped stomach like he’s grown a belly from one meal.
“You kids take your time,” Pops says while everyone else goes inside.
“Everything okay?”
“With you here, it sure is,” he says distracted.
We walk around the house and back through the grass down to the dock. There is only a hint of the sun still painting the night sky. The lights bordering the property and lining the dock dance off the water, celebrating the arrival of tonight’s nearly full moon.
It’s magical.
If only the West Coast had lightning bugs like we do back East.
Talk about a fairy tale.
In all my time imagining the EBC logo coming to life, I never thought to imagine it at night. I know without a doubt I’ll be adding an evening scene on a dock to my writing.
With the crickets and toads serenading us in the background, he sits in the chair on the right and pulls me down on his lap. He’s got something on his mind, but I don’t ask because I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
For now, I cuddle into him, letting him sit with his thoughts while I gaze at the dazzling lake in front of me and take in the last moments of light and the sounds of the evening.
“I’m thinking about taking EBC public.”
He’s sharing, but he’s quiet, and I’m shocked at his statement.
“That’s a big deal, Miles. Are you really just thinking about it or is it already in the works?”
“Well, I have interested investors.”
“And?”
“And I really want to go international, and this would give us the capital to do that.”
“How do your parents feel about it?”
“They’re ready to retire. They think we should just sell and be done with it.”
“Sell EBC?”