Page 84 of A Vine Mess
“About what?” I asked as I pulled to a stop out front next to a few other vehicles.
“About the distillery looking just like Owen’s family home.”
And then it clicked—the buildings were spitting images of each other, though the farmhouse was slightly more rambling with what appeared to be two additions added onto each side, the logs less weathered than that of the main, original structure.
A woman who couldn’t be older than her late-sixties came out of the house, apron on, dish towel slung over her shoulder, grey-blonde hair piled atop her head in a bun.
“Ella!” Birdie exclaimed as we exited the van, rushing down the steps to greet my girl. Ella allowed Birdie to wrap her in a hug, and I watched as Ella’s entire body relaxed. She must’ve been more nervous about facing these people again than she’d let on.
“And Liam!” Birdie crowed, rushing over to me and pulling me against her. Though she was small enough that there were several inches between the top of her head and the underside of my chin, the woman gave a fierce hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Lawless,” I said when she pulled away. “It’s so goodto see you again.”
Birdie snagged the towel from her shoulder and whipped it at me so quickly I didn’t have time to react. “Call me Birdie,” she admonished.
I chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Just like my boys,” she grumbled as she hooked her arm through mine, crossed the space between us to collect Ella, then dragged us up the steps and into the house.
Ella audibly gasped from Birdie’s other side as we strode into the foyer, and I had to agree with that reaction though I didn’t make a sound.
The ceilings soared, and a floating walkway connected one half of the upstairs to the other. I’d bet good money Owen and his brothers had a hell of a lot of fun playing around on that growing up, scaring the shit out of their parents.
Through an opening to the right, there appeared to be a living space and a set of ascending stairs. In the opposite direction, something positively mouthwatering scented the air, and Birdie directed us that way. We walked through a formal dining room with a table long enough to seat twenty easily, the vaulted ceilings continuing in there to make the room feel spacious.
Past that was an impressive kitchen, and we walked in to find two men arguing about which pie flavor was superior: apple or pecan.
“The fact that I’m related to you is disgusting,” the one with shorter hair said, wrinkling his nose at the other. From where I stood, I could only see their profiles, which was disconcerting to say the least as they matched perfectly.
The twins, then.
“I’ve been saying the same thing for thirty-one years,” the onewith longer hair quipped. “I can’t believe I have to walk around with a face that looks just like yours, and with the knowledge that you think pecans are even edible, much less better than apples.”
The other—Finn, I now realized—shook his head. “You’re a fucking moron.”
“Boys,” Birdie scolded, and they both turned abruptly to look at their mother, offering her sheepish smiles when they realized she wasn’t alone.
In a flash, both twins were across the room, offering me handshakes and Ella hugs. Then Birdie ushered them both back into the kitchen where, still arguing, they each picked up a platter of food and disappeared through a different doorway. We followed behind Birdie, my hand on the small of Ella’s back, and entered what appeared to be a more casual dining space. The long table had bench seating instead of chairs, and was nicked and scarred and even scorched in places. The length of it was laden with food—everything from mashed potatoes and gravy, diced and fried potatoes, green beans and corn on the cob, a bowl of salad I could swim in, burgers, dogs, and barbecue chicken legs, plus the aforementioned apple and pecan pies for dessert.
Birdie settled her hands on Ella’s shoulders and grinned up at me. “Welcome to Dusk Valley.”
Ella stepped out of her hold and whipped her head in Birdie’s direction. “You did all of this forus?”
Birdie shrugged. “I’ve got a million children running around here, and at least half of them are here for dinner on any given night, but I never pass up the opportunity to put a feast together. Besides,” Birdie said, clasping one of Ella’s hands between her own, “you’re family now.”
I could see the tears welling in Ella’s eyes by the way they took on a glassiness when she looked up at me.
Jumping in to save her lest she start crying, I ushered Birdie away from her and said, “Thank you. This is…wonderful.”
“And I’ve got the cabin all fixed up for you too,” West offered. “Best one I’ve got. Had to shuffle around a few reservations to make it work, but we got it squared away.”
“You really didn’t have to do that for us,” Ella told him.
West only grinned, removing his hat and hooking it over a knee as he sat at one end of a bench. “It’s like Mama said…you’re family now too.”
Considering I didn’t have a big family of my own, I wasn’t in a position to be turning down offers like that, so I merely nodded and dropped down next to Ella, who had slid onto the bench beside Finn, opposite West.
“Hello?” a man shouted from somewhere far away.
