by Vivian Arend
“Here’s an opening if I ever heard one.” Dare got to her feet. She grinned as she checked around the room, little Joey playing some game with stacking blocks with two of his cousins. “Becky here is on the calendar for a March baby. Melody and Anna are using June for a second round of ‘let’s have our babies on the same day and give them incredibly similar nicknames.’”
“I had Jay picked out for a long time,” Melody insisted.
“Kay was born first. That’s all I’m saying.” Anna folded her arms over her chest. “You’re such a copycat.”
Melody proved she was one hundred percent Coleman at this stage of the game. She stuck out her tongue at her sister-in-law.
“So far you’re only telling us things we already know,” Jaxi pointed out. “Unless you’re ready to add to that list?”
Dare grinned. “We’ve booked a mid-July appointment. This time it wasn’t an oops.”
The laughter and congratulations had barely begun when Vicki stood, her smile brilliant. “Joel and I are excited to let you all know baby number two is on the way, also expecting mid-July.”
Dare’s jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Way.” Vicki threw her arms around Dare and squeezed tight. “I’m so happy we get to do it together this time.”
“Because synchronized vomiting is such a good thing to share.” But her obvious excitement was clear. Dare pulled away and offered a wink. “I can’t think of anyone I’d prefer to share that experience with.”
“Awwww.”
As the room quieted, Auntie Kate got to her feet and turned to the rest of the older generation. “I’m going to take a wander over to the other house,” she announced. “Marion? Dana? Want to take a peek and see if the guys are holding it together?”
“We might need to stop in the office for a few minutes,” Marion said with a smile. “I know where Mike hides the good hootch.”
“I’m all for that,” Auntie Dana said. She pointed a finger at her daughter-in-law, Laurel. “You’re my designated driver, right?”
The blonde-haired woman grinned. “Because you’re always such a party animal? Go on. Drink away.”
Jaxi waited until the door was firmly closed behind her mother-in-law and aunts before turning to the group and rubbing her hands together. “Okay, ladies, put your thinking caps on. I’ve got an idea.”
A chorus of groans mixed with a lot of snickering greeted her announcement.
“Why does it sound as if I should be worried?” Julia asked quietly from where she’d settled between Beth and Becky.
“Because you have good instincts. Jaxi’s been itching to do something grandiose ever since last year with Marion and Mike’s fortieth anniversary.” Beth glanced at Jaxi over the top of her teacup. “I don’t think you’ve recovered from that disappointment yet.”
Jaxi threw her hands in the air. “It’s not fair. It would’ve been a perfect time to do something up, family-wise.”
Beth turned to the newcomer in the room “Jaxi likes to organize things.”
“This is true.”
“Gospel truth.”
“Not a word of lie in it.”
The words echoed on the air without anyone taking credit for calling out the quick phrases.
Well, now.
Jaxi folded her arms over her chest then took the mature route. It was her turn to stick out her tongue at the gathered women.
Beth continued her explanation, amusement tingeing her voice. “Only Marion said that she wanted their fortieth to be about where they were now, not what had been, so all of Jaxi’s plans to put together some kind of family history were dashed because—well, you just don’t give somebody a present they don’t want.”
“That makes sense.” Julia still looked a little wide-eyed, glancing around the room that was filled with Colemans and kids. “Also, wouldn’t that have only been the Six Pack history? And there are four families, right?”
“Actually, there were six brothers. One passed away, four still live here in Rocky, plus Uncle Mark, who’s sort of like my guardian angel,” Becky said. She turned her gaze on Jaxi. “I’m on your side if your idea is to make some sort of overall family record.”
“Only, it’s got to be something that the next generation will actually want. Straight-up journals are boring.” This from Rachel, who was cradling her sleeping daughter. “Think about who will want this fifty years from now.”
Dare was nodding slowly. She’d run a successful blog for years at that point, and Jaxi was curious what she’d suggest to make this idea better. “Turn the spotlight on any event. It doesn’t have to be only the big occasions like weddings or that kind of stuff. It’s more important the events have solid memories attached. Happy, or sad, or something that changes you.”
“So, you’re saying we need…the feelings?” Laurel wrinkled her nose. “Pictures aren’t enough?”
“I’m saying it’s got to have context. Baby pictures are great if we know who they are, but the background is important. The ‘why I took this picture’ background.” Dare smiled. “For example, Marion gave me a shot of Jesse as a toddler making a terrible face. It’s funny on its own, but it’s even better when she told me that was the first time Jesse tried ice cream, and he hated it. He refused to try any again for years.”
“Really?” Jaxi laughed. “I didn’t know that.”
Dare grinned. “The picture triggered the memory. Stories make it special.”
Lisa chuckled, just loud enough to have all the heads in the room swinging in her direction. “This one is easy. Get the uncles into one room and pass around some pictures. Then record what they say. Trust me, you’ll get the stories.”
“You know what, that’s it.” Jaxi snapped a finger at Lisa. “But not just the uncles, all of us. Everybody’s memories—at least one from each family member—the good ones, the ones that are real, even the bad things.”
“The ones that involve food, which means mostly good, especially if I’m involved.” Vicki offered a wink as laughter rippled around the room. “Well, it’s true.”
“If you include recipes, I can guarantee the guys will crack the family history open,” Dare said with a nod.
“A joint family memory book,” Jaxi said. “With pictures, but more importantly, the stories and the recipes that go with them.” She glanced around the room, excitement rising as a ton of ideas rushed into her head. “What do you guys think? We could take our time on it, but if everyone helped, we could put it together in digital format for us and print for the older generation.”
“Take our time?” Ashley grinned. “So, like, you want our essays of what we did over the holidays on your desk January fifth?”
“Of course not.” Jaxi rolled her eyes dramatically before teasing back. “You can have until the beginning of February.”
“Ha. How about you set up some guidelines, and we’ll just keep going at it until we’re done. No deadlines.” Ashley winked. “It took a while to make the memories. We may as well enjoy stirring them up.”
It was a good idea, because there were too many people to simply herd in the right direction quickly. Jaxi nodded. “This should be fun, not something we dread, so taking our time is important.”
“And if we want everyone to share, we need to let them consider what they want to share. Especially the older stuff.” Laurel was thinking hard. “There are all kinds of random old boxes in the attic at Angel ranch.”
“At the Peter’s place as well,” Ashley agreed.
“I can help go through things. And I’ll get Trevor to write to Uncle Mark and let him know what’s going on.” Becky smiled, her hands resting gently on her belly as she met Jaxi’s gaze. “They keep in touch. I’m so glad.”
The conversation drifted to holiday activities and food, and between the laughter and the occasional burst of crying from the little ones, the house was full of life and happiness.
And a goal. Jaxi soaked in the sensation of family and considered the question herself.
Of her many memories, which was the most important? Something about becoming a part of the Coleman family? About falling in love? It wasn’t as if she could only contribute one thing, but she didn’t want to miss the chance to share a truth that would become a part of the forever history of the clan.
This was going to take time, and she planned to enjoy every minute of it.
4
Christmas letter from Trevor Coleman to Uncle Mark, current day
* * *
Considering I write to you about every two weeks, it sure seems there’s a lot to catch up on.
First off—you should admire the Christmas card. Ashley (from the Six Pack side of things) made an entire set using pictures the little kids in the clan drew. I think this one is supposed to be the reindeer pulling Santa’s sled, but my nephew Jay is only two and a half, and apparently any artistic talent he inherited will involve music, not art. Or Jay thinks reindeer and elephants are related, in which case, he drew them very well.
Another holiday adventure since I wrote: you know how the ladies like to take control of our lives? It appears last week we left them alone for too long, and they came up with this wild idea of putting together a Coleman memory book. We’ve been told we all have to contribute.
I guess it’s supposed to be something a little less dry than just a family history and what days who did what, so I’m in favour of it. Especially since Vicki (also Six Pack) has agreed to pony up a few of her recipes that she’s been keeping under lock and key. Good food that’s easy to make? Always a hit in my books.
I wanted to be sure that we get your story as well. It doesn’t have to be much, but whatever you want included. Jaxi and Dare—that’s Blake’s wife and Jesse’s wife, if you don’t have your Coleman playlist with you—volunteered to interview anybody who didn’t want to write stuff up. If you want to do it the easy way, I can get you a phone number.
I suppose I could even help write whatever you want, although I’m not much of a word guy. Becky says the fact I’ve kept writing to you makes her happy, and since you haven’t yet told me that you burn the letters or anything, you’re stuck with me keeping in touch and keeping you up to date.
Which means there are a couple of other things to mention. Becky’s due date is getting closer—sort of. It’s still a few months off, but damn close all the same. I’m scared shitless half the time, and the other half I feel like I’m floating about a foot off the ground. I’m so damn proud, and I barely did anything. She’s feeling good, but the bigger her belly gets, the more I have to fight to keep from picking her up and acting as a bodyguard twenty-four/seven. March can’t get here soon enough as far as I’m concerned. Still can’t believe I’m going to be a daddy.
Last time I wrote I’d mentioned all the Whiskey Creek girls have moved away from Rocky to Heart Falls. Saw them last weekend, and they’re all doing really good. Turns out the sister they found last spring is also going to stick around Heart Falls—Julia got married out of the blue the same day Karen did. Becky was trying to explain something to me about it, but it’s pretty tangled as far as I can tell.
All I know for sure is when the subject of long-lost siblings came up at our family dinner last Monday, my mom told my dad that she was never missing for long enough to produce any additional Moonshine family members, and hell if she thought that he’d had time to go and plant seeds anywhere else.
Dad made some comment about never straying far from her fields, and it was a really awkward dinner conversation, which I think was their goal, because Dad laughed so hard.
Six Pack ranch is hosting the Boxing Day gathering. Swear they’ve got enough people for a full hockey team roster, and that’s without putting skates on all the babies. Although I suppose I shouldn’t throw stones considering how many Moonshine kidlets there will be soon, with more on the way.
My favourite part about the Christmas gathering, other than the food and the bonfire, is the snowball fight. Daniel’s boys are old enough now to make great teammates. It’s funny to have three teenagers wandering with the under-ten-years-old club, but they don’t seem to mind.
Lots of plans for the new year. I’ve been working with the Angel Coleman clan, dreaming up ideas of what to do with the grazing land on your parcel come the spring. Gabe is a good man to work alongside. Rafe as well, but I see him less. He and Laurel have been busy helping Auntie Dana in their spare time. Word is she’s been talking about building a house. Something about setting down new roots for a new year. I guess that makes sense. Rafe and Laurel moved in with her not long after Uncle Ben died. It seems the three of them get along fine, but I know if it were me, after nearly three years, I’d want some privacy.
Anyway, I’ve rambled way more than usual.
Merry Christmas to you, Uncle Mark. I never think about you without getting a smile on my face and a lot of gratefulness in my heart. As always, thank you for being there for Becky. May this coming year give you what you truly desire.
Let me know what you decide about the history stuff. If you ever want to stop in, the door is always open.
Love from Trevor, Becky, and the bun in the oven.
* * *
Mark put down the letter and the card and stared into the fireplace.
Thoughts swirled—
Trevor’s letters had felt like a taunt at the beginning, but eventually Mark had faced the truth. Even a little news from home was like air into his lungs, giving him life. Giving him hope.
Flames flickered before his gaze, slightly out of focus. So many memories came to mind. Time with his brothers, time when the SP and Whiskey Creek and Moonshine labels were just being applied to the families.
He’d left before the Angel Colemans had gotten their name—Gabriel followed by Michael was too much for the townsfolk to resist.
So many memories he didn’t have because he couldn’t stand being there watching her—
Temptation called, and Mark gave in, pulling out his wallet and the worn photograph he kept hidden away. Every time he looked at it, he felt slightly wrong. Still, there’d been no stopping his heart from wanting.
He gazed down at her picture. Blonde hair blown by the wind, staring at the camera with a shy smile curling her lips. The only woman he’d ever wanted to be his.
A new year. A new chance. New roots—
An old love.
It was damn time. It was past time.
Mark shot to his feet and looked around. There was so much to do that he couldn’t up and go this very minute, but fuck waiting any longer. He would take what he needed. He would give and become who she truly deserved.
It was going to be a wild ride and probably take every bit of sweet talk he could manage, but by the time he was done, Mark Coleman was determined—Dana would finally be his.
SP Ranch Journal
~Michael Coleman, July 1984~
Was in town today and overheard someone mention the Whiskey Creek Colemans. Turns out that’s George’s piece of land. Makes sense, with the way the creek meanders through most of their section.
Took a bit of chat time and paying for a few cups of coffee, but a few other names finally dropped. I live on the SP ranch, and Randy is on Moonshine land, which cracks me up.
Did Grandpa Stan and Great Uncle Peter ever regret the times they got tipsy on the moonshine they made? Or just mad about the fact they hid the jars on each other? Randy said he finds a stash every few months or so. I wonder how long that will continue.
No nicknames for Ben’s or Mark’s sections yet, but it’s amusing to think that will come eventually.
5
Ashley glanced around the room and wondered at the magic.
It was a brief moment of calm in what had continued to be a very active household. She’d just finished nursing the baby, and he was lying contentedly in the bassinet on the couch. River and Daisy were miraculously still napping, and Ashley had even gotten in a forty-five-minute snooze before Forest had woken up hungry.
How had it come to this?
She’d come back to Rocky five years ago, looking for a place to settle down and hopefully find some quiet happiness. What she’d found were two strong and devoted men who had given her more than just a place to set down roots. They’d given her a future and a family and so much more.
Cassidy? He was her endless joy.
Travis had brought her into the Coleman clan and grafted her onto strong, sturdy stock. He’d also twisted his way into her heart, some sharp barbs gripping tight yet protectively guarding her as well.
Love had tangled his, and hers, and Cassidy’s lives into something that made her think of a beautiful Celtic knot. Together, yet each strand independent and strong. That she knew there was always someone ready to stand at her side was a type of magic.
They both made her heart sing. They made her body ache and fly.
Two strong arms curled around her from behind, and a scruffy cheek brushed hers. “You’ve been standing there like a statue for nearly five minutes. Being inspired by your muse?”
“Something like that.” She twisted, looking into Cassidy’s face, his green eyes shining at her with amusement. “Counting my blessings.”
“Me too. One.” He leaned close and kissed her. His arms tightened, and suddenly she was airborne. Ashley wrapped her legs around his hips instinctively, fingers thrust into his hair. As he deepened the kiss, she found herself pressed against the nearest wall.
“You’re not counting very high.” Travis’s rougher tone was filled with amusement.
“I’m taking my time,” Cassidy said against her lips. Eyes fixed on hers. “I suppose he can be number two.”
“I suppose,” Ashley agreed, tilting her head to peek over Cassidy’s shoulder. “Oops. I think he heard us.”
Travis caged them both with his body, pinning them in place as he leaned over Cassidy’s shoulder to kiss Ashley. He pulled back just slightly, and Cassidy sucked in a breath.