Where We Are

by Annie McDonald

  Sid put her hand on her dad’s. She wasn’t nervous; uncertain was more like it. She knew it wasn’t her job to protect everyone and was sure that whatever the reaction, she was prepared to accept it.

  Start with one small step. “Dad, I’m very grateful for your offer, and I’m even more delighted that I’m able to take you up on it. I’m leaving the gallery. I’m going to start my own brokerage. There’ll be many trips to and from the airport, but I’m going to run it from here.”

  Duncan winked. “So our empty nest is no longer empty? Isabel, did you hear that?”

  Sid wasn’t looking for approval, but it pleased her that in his funny way, he’d given his support. She was less sure of how he would receive the next bit of news.

  Take one more step, Sid. You’re not alone. “Actually, Dad, Mia and I…” She put her hand on Mia’s. “We’ll be staying in her trailer while the lake house is built. So your nest will be empty again.”

  “You two are going to live together? In sin?” Duncan turned to Mia, his melodrama clearly intended to rankle. “For God’s sake, Mia, when do you plan to make an honest woman out of my daughter?”

  Sid could feel her shoulders lower, relief lifting the burden she’d carried since she’d kissed her first girlfriend. She was flustered, though, by her dad’s question. When? She felt certain that in every way she and Mia were partners, but aside from asking somewhat sideways for them to live together, they’d never talked about marriage. In the rush of the past week and with all the talk of the house and the new businesses, it hadn’t been a topic of conversation. Maybe it should be. Or maybe it’s a given. Sid looked at Mia, confused and apologetic. But Mia was beaming, and the levity of the comment settled Sid’s scattered thoughts.

  Mia squared herself at Duncan, reminding Sid of Milo. “When are you going to make an honest woman out of Isabel?”

  Duncan let out a rolling laugh and pointed to Isabel. She pulled her hand out of the dishwater and toweled it off, displaying an enormous ring on her engagement finger. “Guess who won big at the casino on the weekend?”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Preparations continued at an easy pace on the morning of the party. The weather was splendid, and the coals had continued burning beneath the cauldron through the night. Mia held tightly to the wooden paddle, circling the contents inside of the large iron pot as Isabel incorporated a thick, shiny paste that swirled like the aerial view of a tropical storm. The paste was dark like chocolate but deeply red from the peppery notes.

  The color reminded Mia of Sid, its spicy properties reminding her of how Sid had managed to find numerous hot and intoxicating ways to keep her in bed that morning. If it wasn’t for the final push to help with the party, they’d no doubt still be at the trailer. Instead, they dutifully appeared in the kitchen by ten. Each was assigned a list, mostly final touches, and they went their separate ways.

  While Sid and Aaron placed hay bale benches around the courtyard, Mia worked with Isabel on the large cauldron of pozole rojo, a Mexican stew with aromatic hominy, slow-cooked pork, and wild mushrooms.

  “See, little girl, this is how we make it rojo…red…with anchos,” Isabel proclaimed proudly as she emptied the last of the pepper slurry into the pot. Before long, the shredded meat and chunks of mushroom bobbed contentedly in a heady red ocean thick with corn grain and peppers.

  Mia kept an eye on the slow-cooking pozole through the kitchen window while she stuffed poblano peppers with a cheese mixture, but her attention was on Sid, who’d moved from the bales to the barbecue. She stood more casually than Mia had ever seen or thought possible: one hand in the side pocket of her overalls, the other playfully twirling the set of tongs as she attended the chicken on the grill. Her hair was tucked through the ball cap Mia had first seen her in the day they met. The Sid Harris that day had a power about her, the kind that had churned with derision and arrogance. So much had changed since then. The woman Mia had come to love had a new, easy power, a relaxed strength and confidence that she wore comfortably, like the white cotton tank top beneath her denims. This Sid Harris had her feet on the path, and Mia had fallen hopefully and helplessly in step with her.

  Mia turned to survey the buffet in the great room. With the exception of the pozole, which was doled straight from the cauldron, the feast was set out on the harvest table in chafing dishes, platters, and bowls beautifully decorated with corn husks and wide green and gold ribbons.

  By mid-afternoon, everything that could be done in advance was set and ready. Sid had gone upstairs to shower and change, but Mia elected to spend the next couple of hours at the trailer. She fed and walked the dogs, showered, and scavenged her closet for something nice. She settled on a simple, cap-sleeve, swoop neck T-shirt dress that clung comfortably to her body and stopped mid-thigh beneath a Navajo print sweater of the same length.

  Never one for bling, Mia had made one exception, a sterling silver feather necklace she’d bought while on a mountain biking trip with Riley in Arizona. Created by a consortium of Navajo artists, the medium link chain held twenty or so silver feathers of varying sizes and shapes, some with turquoise inlay, others in a silver overlay design. She took it out on special occasions, and this was the first time she’d worn it since Riley was diagnosed. She slid her bare feet into a pair of sling-back sandals, loaded up the dogs, and headed back to the Harrises’.

  Mia parked behind the barn, and she and the dogs stepped into the circle of bales just in time to see Sid emerge from the main house. The sun hadn’t crossed behind the mountains yet, so it lit Sid up and stopped Mia in her tracks. Sid was radiant in a white linen two-piece, her bare midriff crossed by two thin straps that connected the halter top with an ankle-length dress slit down one side from the hip. Her height and broad shoulders gave her the perfect body for the outfit, showing off her fitness and femininity. She was barefoot, a silver ankle bracelet on the slit side echoing the large silver hoop earrings that emphasized her long sensual neck and wavy auburn tresses. She was holding a white pashmina with thread of emerald woven throughout that would set off her beautiful eyes.

  “Good God, Sid. You are…well, you sure are.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sid smiled, kissing Mia as if no one was watching. “And you sure are, too. Very. Would you do me a favor?”

  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you right now, gorgeous.”

  Sid pulled a bandage out of her halter and handed it over. “I couldn’t put it on without getting it all wrinkled. Would you mind? Isabel was so busy that I hated to bother her.”

  Sid’s wound was healing nicely, and fresh aloe coated the red jagged edges. Mia carefully opened and applied the fresh bandage, the color of which matched Sid’s fair skin. She kissed it as she completed the seal, then planted an equally soft kiss on Sid’s bare shoulder.

  “Is the outfit too much? I can put on this wrap…”

  “If you so much as try to cover yourself up, I will undress you completely, no matter who’s watching.” Mia smiled, drinking in the thought before continuing. “You look ravishing, cowboy. Beautiful, truly.” Mia leaned in for a kiss but was interrupted by a loud, throat-clearing cough.

  “Ahem. Is this a private party?”

  Mia recognized the voice and ran to Leah’s open arms, hugging her before wrapping her arms around Jim. “I am so glad you’re here,” she managed, feeling tears welling. “But how? I mean, when, why?”

  “Well, I was going to fly home, but when we got the good news, I figured a detour was in order. Handsome and I are going straight to the Miraval from here for a bit of pampering.”

  Mia knew the Arizona spa well, having retreated there for a whole month before buying her trailer and hitting the highway. It was a much-needed luxury, and it gave her the headspace to figure out her path. It was astonishing that she’d not even begun to imagine then that this was where that path would lead.

  “Jim, I’d like to introduce Cassidy Harris. Sid.”

  “Yes, please, call
me Sid. Nice to meet you, Jim. And, Leah, glad you took me up on the invitation.”

  Mia shot Sid a puzzled look, but Leah took her hand and pulled her toward a table set with bottles, kegs, and ice. “Come on. I bet there’s a bottle of tequila on that bar!”

  * * *

  The night was magically lit by stars and thousands of fairy lights that Aaron and Greg had strung in the trees and along the buildings’ edges. Music from a local folk band filled the air, echoing off the distant mountains. Sid was cajoled into drinking a shot of tequila with the besties teaching the bartender how to make a baja fog, a mind-numbing combination of tequila, Corona, and lime. According to Mia-Leah, this was the only exception to Riley’s rule. Sid bowed out to mingle and help Isabel with last-minute details. She’d attended more than her fair share of galas, but this was an evening full of surprises.

  She figured the whole neighborhood had shown up to rejoice in what had originally been planned as a birthday party but was now her dad and Isabel’s elopement celebration. At one point, there was hardly room on the makeshift dance floor in the arena. As much as Isabel had been teased about the menu, she was right to have cooked for a brigade; there wasn’t an owner in the region who didn’t come by at one point or other throughout the evening to wish Duncan and Isabel happiness together.

  Sid was excited to welcome Ella, who had accepted the invitation at her insistence but seemed thrilled to be far from Toronto. Sid could imagine what the smoldering fires at the gallery in Toronto must have been like in the aftermath of Jason’s treachery. At least she and Ella had doused the inferno.

  “There’s no way I could turn you down,” Ella said. “And while I appreciate it, you didn’t have to pick up the tab for my flight and hotel. It makes me wonder if you’ve got some business you’d like to discuss?” She smiled conspiratorially.

  “I’d only like you to spend time in this beautiful place thinking about where you’d like your future in the art world to be spent.” Sid was sure Ella was reading between the lines. “Because you never know where a new path might take you.”

  Later, she was surprised to see that Ella’s path, in the short term, had run straight into Jesse McCann’s. The attractive entrepreneur managed to monopolize most of Ella’s time at the party, including more than a few tequila-fueled, extra-close turns on the dance floor.

  Just when Sid thought nothing more could surprise her, her dad came around the corner of the house with Martin Stephens, each carrying a hefty crystal lowball of what was most likely a single malt from the Harris family collection.

  “Look who I found,” Duncan said.

  For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating. “Oh my gosh, Martin, how on earth did you…I mean, you’re of course very welcome. But how…I thought you were in Hawaii.”

  “It wasn’t hard to find a Duncan Harris in Green Creek, Alberta. And they make these machines called airplanes.” He laughed, wrapping his arm around Duncan as if the two were fraternity brothers. “I got on one last night after you and I spoke, and now I’m here. You are a sight for sore old eyes, Sid. I’ve never seen you looking more lovely.”

  Duncan laughed along. “Marty’s here for my birthday.”

  “Dad, I’m sure Martin doesn’t—”

  “Relax, Sid…your father and I know each other. We go back at least an hour ago, wouldn’t you say? It was at least a single ‘single’ ago.” He straightened and held his scotch toward Sid, who lifted her glass in response. “To Thomson,” he said solemnly.

  Once Duncan excused himself to tend to hosting duties, Sid and Martin stood slightly out of sight of the crowd to ensure—at least for another few moments—some privacy for the celebrity and a chance for the two to catch up.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Sid said. “It’s so nice to see you, and I’m sure your being here made this a party my dad will never forget.”

  “He’s a good man. I genuinely like him. And he clearly loves you. As you may have guessed, I didn’t solely come to celebrate his birthday…correction, marriage. I’m actually following the example of a business associate whom I greatly respect, a woman who took a trip to New York recently to make a deal, knowing that sometimes a personal touch is needed. Consider this my personal touch. It’s important to me that you know I stand firmly behind my offer.” Martin’s tone was serious, and his eyes were fixed on Sid’s until he glanced over her shoulder. She turned to see Mia approaching from the dance floor.

  “Now, who is this lovely vision?” Martin asked.

  Sid took Mia’s extended hand. “Martin Stephens, this is Mia Jarvis, my fiancée.” She shot Mia an expectant look, and when she smiled, continued. “Mia, this is Martin Stephens.”

  “Please call me Marty. Can I assume, lovely Ms. Mia, that I should be asking for your help in persuading Sid to leave the gallery and help some of my good friends patronize the arts?”

  Mia smiled. Sid hadn’t filled Martin in on the complete business plan she was developing, but if her vision was financially viable, it would involve Martin as more than simply a conduit to purchasers. She had no desire to use her friend that way. Sid trusted Mia to keep those details under wraps until all the pieces were in place. She trusted Mia, period.

  “Yes, you should.” Mia winked at Sid and took Martin’s arm “But I must warn you, the stunning Sid Harris has a mind of her own.”

  “Well, I am ever the optimist. So when we are successful,” he said as she turned to lead him toward the dance floor, “how shall I repay you?”

  Sid almost laughed out loud when Mia, who did not miss a single beat, replied, “Have you or your friends ever given thought to investing in dog food?”

  * * *

  The embers beneath where the cauldron had been glowed like falling dominos as the warm night wind blew across the courtyard. It was so quiet that Mia could hear the almost ripe wheat spikes in the distant fields dance against each other as if the band was still playing.

  “Stand right there. Don’t move. I’m turning off the lights.”

  Mia stood in the middle of the courtyard. The last group of guests had pulled out of the driveway a half hour ago, and Duncan and Isabel had retired shortly after, vowing to be up early for cleanup. The twinkle lights went dark but had been replaced by a sky full of stars.

  “We don’t need music, do we?” Sid’s voice fell softly, wrapping around Mia like a blanket. She reached around Mia’s lower back, pulling her into her arms, and they began to sway. “Is this how it feels?”

  “How what feels, my love?”

  “The ease? The way in which we fit.”

  “If you let it.”

  It seemed clear that Sid was expecting a more elaborate response. “Is it hard for you to be in love again? To let yourself?”

  Mia knew what she was asking. “I don’t want you to love me like Riley loved me because I don’t love you the way I loved her. I love you the way I love you. And I want you to love me the way you love me.” She looked at Sid’s downcast eyes and lifted her chin. “A thousand painters can look at the same landscape, and what ends up on the canvas is unique. I think you told me that once.”

  Sid nodded and smiled.

  “And any one unique rendering is perceived equally uniquely.”

  She could see the wheels turning as Sid considered her answer. “True.”

  “I think that’s true with love. You are seeing me, loving me, as only you can.”

  “So just let myself?”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “And you’ll do the same?”

  Mia felt a profound sense of wonder at how much love had come her way simply by keeping her heart open, and there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that she would find a lifetime of ways to love Sid.

  “Always.”

  Epilogue

  The winds were strong but warm. Unseasonably warm for northern Alberta in early April. The lakeside house had been framed and the exteriors completed before snowfall the previous year. Between the two-by-fours of what would
be the front entrance, Sid and Mia sat enjoying the rising sun.

  “You’d think we were back at Martin’s,” Mia said. They’d just returned from a month in the British Virgin Islands, a vacation arranged by Sid’s new business partner. It was a much-needed respite.

  During the first seven months since the party, Sid had been working hard with Ella to lay the groundwork for the new brokerage, Harris and Friends. She had also started fundraising to create a Fine Arts Management program at the university with Martin as a lead course designer and sponsor.

  Sid was glad Mia was equally occupied. Since the day Milo graduated, she’d been buried in research, testing recipes, and consulting with the province’s veterinary college to develop a series of specialized feeds while Jesse McCann put the marketing and distribution pieces into place.

  “If only the Chinooks blew all winter long.” Sid tipped her head back, imagining her long hair blowing back as if she were in a Mariah Carey video. As a young girl, she’d taken full advantage of the strange and unpredictable phenomenon akin to California’s Santa Ana winds by stripping off her winter gear and skating on the still-frozen lake in her shorts and T-shirt. The thought of reliving those treasured times was interrupted when Flynn, who’d been sniffing through the shell of the house, let out a warning bark.

  Sid caught the sound of a truck pulling in behind the house. “Who’s that?” She wasn’t alarmed. The rustling issue had been put to rest, the culprits apprehended shortly after the drone videos were handed to the RCMP. But she was curious about who knew they were here.

  “Aaron,” Mia said. “I have one other thing I’d like to add to the house.”

  “Incorrigible! I thought I had trained you better.”

  Mia flashed her a look and smiled. Sid reflected on the many custom design touches they’d made since construction started, and how Aaron and Greg—new partners in the construction business and in life—had been the most patient and flexible contractors imaginable.