Page 21 of Paradise in Progress
“I’ve missed this,” Mom says wistfully.
“Missed what? The three of us bickering?” Xander shakes his head.
Mom’s smile lights up her face and meets her eyes where they crinkle. “Yes, Alexander. I miss having my kids at home. I miss the pranks you three used to pull. But above all, I miss the love that was shown within these walls. It’s quiet and lonely now.”
My heart warms at her admission.
The hum of laughter and the clinking of glasses fill the parlor, my siblings tossing banter back and forth like they’ve done every Sunday for as long as I can remember. I lean back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me, and swirl the bourbon in my glass, letting its rich aroma rise with each slow turn. My family’s voices fade into the background as my mind drifts to thoughts of her—the bright-eyed, red-haired beauty with a sharp mind and a fire to match. She’s working under me now, forcing us even closer than we already are. I can already see the sparks that her confidence and boldness will strike. A smirk curves my lips as I stare into the amber liquid, the thought settling in my head:Let’s see how the next few months go with this project.
Chapter nine
Kennedy
Steady pounding of therain hits the windows as a cloud of gray surrounds the outside. The weather is fitting for Thanksgiving in the late Ohio fall. This is my first trip back home in nearly two years. Last year, I was too busy sorting out where I would be working that I didn’t want to risk leaving the city in case I was contacted for a job interview. It was a good thing I didn’t leave, since Nelson Signature contacted me the Friday after Thanksgiving to meet the following Monday.
It’s crazy how much life can change in a year. Not only my job, but as I glance around at the long dining room table my mom has decorated for every holiday my entire life, I take in how much my parents have changed. With time comes aging, and with both of my parents retired, I notice how much older they appear. In my mind, they’re both the same spry thirty-year-olds who taught me how to ride a bike or how to make perfect chocolate chip cookies.
“Sweetie, how’s the city?” Mom asks from where she’s sitting across from me. She reaches for the bowl of sweet potatoes before passing them to her left, where my sister sits.
Scooping out a large portion of green bean casserole—my favorite—I pass the bowl to my grandpa, where he’s eyeing the green bean and cream of mushroom concoction speculatively. “New York isstill New York. Oh, but there’s this new coffee shop that just opened down the street from the townhouse, and Lana and I did a coffee experience there. We got to go in and sample four different origins of coffee and brewing methods while they teach you about how to recognize the differences in flavors and aromas. It was a lot of fun!”
“Now that sounds right up my alley,” Olivia chimes in. “What was your favorite?”
“The Puerto Rico coffee in the V-60 was my favorite.”
“What’s wrong with Maxwell House from a coffeepot?” Grandpa grumbles from his place at the head of the table. My dad and grandpa have always sat at the head of the table while my mom, sister, grandma, Aunt Julie, Uncle Ed, and myself sit in the middle.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, Dad,” Mom says with an eye roll. “You know how adults today enjoy the finer things in life.”
I chuckle because, to everyone sitting around this table, except for Olivia, no one has left the county in years. And while it’s a great county, that is slowly coming to times, it’s still so behind on the happenings of the big city. The latest thing to come into town was a new automotive garage and a microbrewery.
“Olivia, I see you have some new designs on your body.” Aunt Julie points to the start of my sister’s sleeve. Tattoos of flowers and vines line her arms, with a new detailed monarch butterfly weaved from her wrist around her forearm and toward her bicep. The flowers aren’t new, but the butterfly is, which is drawn beautifully and captures the eye immediately.
“My roommate moved to Texas, so we decided to get butterflytattoos together.”
“Why a butterfly?” Uncle Ed asks around a forkful of food. His manners have always been lacking.
Reaching for her glass of water, Olivia takes a long drink while I scoop another serving of green beans onto my plate. They’re truly the superior Thanksgiving side dish. “Butterflies symbolize a lot of things in different cultures. They signify a powerful beacon of growth and new beginnings, which was perfect for Bret and myself since she was moving and I was starting a new job.”
“At a tattoo parlor,” Grandma adds with disapproval in her tone. No matter how wonderful her grandchildren are, Grandma can never get over the issues with tattoos. She doesn’t understand the idea of marking yourself permanently.
Using her roll to mop up the rest of the food on her plate, Mom turns to Olivia, wearing a hopeful expression. “Do you think you’d ever move back home?”
Eyes widening, Olivia looks at me for help. With a shrug, I leave her to her own devices. Mom has been trying to get us girls to move back home every chance she gets. And while I understand her home feels empty without us, she did a good job of teaching us to spread our wings and fly.
“What would I do? Open a tattoo parlor on Main Street?”
“Yes!” I nearly shout, as my grandmother gasps.
Olivia sends me a wink as Dad interrupts the conversation. “Kenny, how’s your resort project going?”
“Oh, what project is this?” Aunt Julie asks.
“Nelson Signature acquired a resort in St. Lucia, and in January, my design pitch was selected for the remodel.”
“Sounds like a vacation to me,” Uncle Ed chimes in, always looking for a way to get something handed to him for free.
“I’m not sure about that. There’s a good chance I’ll never have the opportunity to visit the resort. Everything is done through emails and virtual meetings.”
