Page 62 of Valentine Nook
Her eyes flick to mine, looking at me from under thick black lashes.
In the dimming light, her irises seem even more piercing than usual. I expect her to shift away, but she resumes her conversation with Alex instead. I swear the pressure of her leg deepens.
I can’t be sure, but I think I might be playing my first game of footsie.
And so the evening continues as most family mealtimes do. Miles makes everyone laugh by being as outrageous as usual. Max regales us with tales from his week at school, and Hendricks updates us on the progress of all the calves.
Clementine and Alex bicker over which pieces of Valentine gossip are true, and my mum watches on. It’s hard to believe she’s as disapproving as she comes across when her expression holds nothing but amusement as she laughs out loud at the next outrageous things Miles says or weighs in on the argument between Clem and Alex.
It’s moments like these that I miss my father so profoundly, because I know how much he cherished family time andensured we had quality moments together despite his busy schedule.
We carry on laughing, drinking, and joking around until the sun is close to setting and Birgitta comes to collect Max for his bath.
Usually, this is followed by a lot of pleading and crying on a Friday, but not tonight.
“Don’t start the fireworks without me,” he orders, shouting louder than any four-year-old should be able to shout as he marches off, holding her hand.
Holiday immediately sits up. “Fireworks? Do you always have fireworks?”
“No, never.” Miles frowns. “Why are we having fireworks?”
I wait to see which one of my brothers outs me. It’s Alex, but instead of announcing it to the entire table, he leans into her.
“Fireworks are usually reserved for bonfire night. Lando organized these for you.”
“It’s not the Fourth without fireworks,” Hendricks adds.
Her eyes find mine. “You did?”
The flame of the candle flickers in her irises when I lean forward. “I can be fun when I want.”
“I knew it.” Happiness flashes across her face, and all the worries I had about whether fireworks were a stupid idea become insignificant.
After what has to be a record bath time, Max returns in his pajamas and a dressing gown, which makes him look like a sheep.
The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving an inky sky behind with stars making their debut for the evening.
“Fireworks time,” Max screeches.
We stand on the patio and watch as they burst above us, a rainbow of colors lighting up the sky. There’s something aboutfireworks that has even the most stoic personalities become awestruck for that moment.
Catherine wheels, rockets, and spirals explode, but I miss most of them because I’m transfixed by the joy on Holiday’s face.
It’s something I didn’t know I needed to see. I never realized how much happiness I could derive from someone else’s, yet here I am, heart pounding at what feels like a thousand times a minute.
Max squeals with excitement until the very last one, and Hendricks takes him up to bed.
“Thanks, Gracie, this has been a really awesome evening. I can’t believe you organized fireworks just for me.”
“Anytime, Hollywood.” I grin down and fight an urge to kiss her. “Some would even sayfun.”
“I would saysuperfun. And while we don’t have celebration donuts, I think apple pie would work just as well.”
“Apple pie is perfect.”
My eyes follow as she rushes off to fetch them, and immediately her spot is taken.
“What did she just call you?”
