Always (Spiral of Bliss #5) - Nina Lane Page 0,121

the possibilities stretch in front of us like uncharted territory. I never imagined a day would come when I’d look forward to Nicholas’s groans of “Mom, I’m bored” on a sweltering August afternoon.

A wet nose nudges at my leg. I look down at the dog Patch, who has been enjoying happy freedom throughout the Butterfly House during the “end of the school year” party Dean and Archer organized.

“Sorry.” Kelsey sits next to me on the sofa, tugging Patch away from me by the collar.

“No, it’s fine. I like dogs.” I reach out to scratch Patch behind the ears. “I guess he won you over, huh?”

“Well, he’s an okay dog,” she admits gruffly. “I’ve gotten used to having him around, but I wouldn’t say he won me over.”

Patch rests his head on her thigh and gazes at her adoringly. I smile, thinking that the “winning over” is right around the corner if Patch is now worshipping Kelsey. She does take well to being worshipped.

The screen door opens and Archer stomps into the house, trailed like the Pied Piper by a crowd of children.

“We’re hungry,” he announces. “Is the food ready?”

“Help yourself,” Kelsey replies, gesturing to the table.

The kids—and Archer—descend on the food like a flock of hungry birds, piling their plates before returning to the garden to eat. After everyone is full, Archer picks up a toy trumpet and blows a “dah dah dah dah” fanfare.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” he calls. “Now we begin the procession to the pirate headquarters. Ladies and germs, please fall into order as we make our way through the treacherous woods. Onward, led by Captain West.”

Nicholas salutes him and takes up the lead position. Giggling and laughing, the kids all line up behind him and Archer for the march into the woods. Dean takes up the rear, waving for Kelsey and me to come along.

We go outside to join them for the walk into the woods, following a pathway lit with dozens of battery-powered lanterns that provide a soft, lovely light.

Kelsey gives me a puzzled look, but all I can do is shrug. Dean had told me he and Archer were planning this party “for fun,” so I’ve left all the details up to them.

“Maybe we’re playing hide and seek?” I suggest.

A sudden silence falls over the woods as the group in front of us disappears into an illuminated clearing. Kelsey and I come up behind the children, who have stopped in apparent surprise over something.

Kelsey gasps. Then I see it.

A flood of awe and shock hits me first, before pure, undiluted happiness begins to buoy my heart. Twelve feet above us, embellished by tiny white lights draped over the frame, balcony, and nearby branches, is a big, beautiful, and utterly perfect tree house.

“Welcome, me hearties,” Nicholas shouts, brandishing his pirate sword.

“A house in the tree!” Bella claps her hands with excitement. “Is it ours? Do we keep it?”

A flurry of exclamations rises from the other kids, and they all rush forward to climb the rope ladder descending from the balcony. Dean steps in front of them, reestablishing order and giving them a lecture about safety before they climb up.

Kelsey and I just stare at the tree house that looks like something out of a fairy tale with its gabled roof and rounded balcony that mirrors the curves of the tree.

Windows perforate the house on all sides, and the roof extends over the balcony that has a trapdoor for the rope ladder and another entrance for a bridge that spans across the clearing to a separate, round deck perched on posts.

A star-shaped window faces the balcony. The front door has been re-created to resemble an old piece of crate siding with the words Mr. Moo’s Chocolate Milk stenciled on the front.

And a carved wooden sign above the front door reads The Castle Two.

“I can’t believe it,” Kelsey says.

I can, I think.

I look across the clearing at Dean, who is holding the rope ladder steady while Archer helps the kids clamber up the rungs one by one.

In that moment, I realize what I’ve missed—or at least, what this fight for my health has blocked from my sight. After the diagnosis, I’d thought, knowing Dean as I do and knowing how he has dealt with difficulties in the past, that his scholarly work would be the place where he found solace.

But when I’d discovered that intensive medical research had stifled even his dedication to medieval history, I hadn’t known how to figure out what else he needed. I