Page 100 of Boundaries

“Maybe,” I grinned.

Mason’s expression then twisted, “It didn’t last long though.”

I was puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“A couple of years later, you kicked me in the nuts.”

I chuckled, pleased that he still felt strong enough to joke. My presence there must have been tiring for him.

I swept my memory back to all those fond times we had fought.

A battle of wills between two kids that were told that they could never be friends. How wrong they were. Now things would be different.

The McKenna and the Taylor-Joys would unite. My parents were staying at Lamb Hill temporarily and had already started to make their truce. My father was desperate to personally thank Mason for saving his little girls life, well for both of his girls really. And I had also witnessed a look of respect he’d shot Nixon when he was dealing with Jenna. As I said before, my sister was a delicate soul and she had to be handled with care. Nixon was probably perfect for her needs.

Our intertwined lives together had been changeable, unpredictable and at times down right impossible, but the place we were today was like the start of a new era. A new chapter on a blank page or photograph maybe, and I for one was looking forward to painting/taking a new picture.

Mason suddenly cleared his throat again, catching my attention and pulling me from my revere, “Amy Taylor-Joy, will you be my girlfriend?”

He made it official, “Yes!” I replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

And that wall that had protected me for all those years was smashed away by Mason Mckenna. My tormentor, my first love, my boyfriend and the only person who’d had the power to break through my barriers.

Our future together was yet unwritten, but from that day forward, there would be no more family feuds full of hate and misunderstanding, battles over land or one-up-man-ship and where Mason and I were concerned, there would be no more boundaries.

Epilogue

“If you don’t keep turning them, they burn dickhead. How hard is it to cook a fucking burger?” Boyd’s impatient voice rumbled out. It appeared that Seth was doing his best to ensure that everything on the BBQ was inedible. My stomach growled.

His remark earned him the middle finger from his brother.

I ginned from my position on Mason’s lap. We were sitting on deck chairs which had been set out by the meadow, close to the pool. This area now also had four large picnic tables which were a permanent fixture.

This had been no-man’s-land for many years, and now it had been claimed. By both our families. Gone was the rift between the McKenna’s and the Taylor-Joys and in its place was something better than a compromise. Our families were friends.

Mason had been considered a hero after saving me and my sister from the fire which had taken our house the previous year, and my parents could not thank him enough. The support we had then received from Melanie McKenna and her boys had been unparalleled.

I turned and glanced into the distance; the scaffolding on our newly built house was due to come down within the next month. We had moved back in over the last few days and there was still work to do, but it was safe and watertight.

Boyd prodded his brother in the ribs, “Come on, shift over and let me take over.”

“Get back, you’re fucking with my flow,” Seth moaned, punching his brother in the arm so hard that Boyd spilt his beer down his front.

“You little fucker, your flow is worth jack shit,” the eldest out of the two spat and they started to play-fight, Seth jabbing at his brother with the BBQ tongues.

“Still as immature as fuck,” Nixon, my brother-in-law suddenly said. Jenna was sitting on the floor by his feet making a daisy chain and he was gently massaging her shoulders.

“They’re funny, they make me laugh,” Jenna purred sweetly.

Nixon smiled fondly down at her and smoothed her pale blonde hair over one shoulder exposing her throat. “Well, if that’s the case love. I won’t knock them the fuck out for disturbing our peace.”

Mason chuckled before shouting over, “Come on you two, we’re fucking starving over here.”

I wiggled into the warmth of my boyfriend’s thighs; my hands were over his shoulders.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to have to cut this party short,” Mason whispered into my ear.

“I heard that,” Nixon shot in with a stern voice. “That’s my sister you’re talking to with that potty mouth.”

---