father pointed out.
“Has it?” Logan asked. “How so?”
“You’ve got a beautiful home, your own business to take care of, the respect of the community.”
Those were the things that mattered most to his father. Logan knew then he’d never make Al understand. He tried to explain, anyway. “I played it safe. I tried to be responsible. I was a good husband, and the marriage still didn’t work out. I’m a good father, and now my son is moving to Japan. I’ve been a good businessman, and I’m so bored some days I want to hit myself in the head with a hammer.”
“It’s the ebb and flow of life,” said Al, a hint of his Irish heritage coming out.
“Not my life. I’m done playing it safe all the time. I’ve decided to live the way I want to, taking risks, doing something that matters to me, creating something.”
“Creating what?” His father seemed genuinely baffled. “A glorified playground?”
“This is a project I’m passionate about. I have big plans for Saddle Mountain. More mountain-biking in the summer. The zip line. A climbing course. Ice-climbing in winter.”
“You’ll lose your shirt.”
“I’ve lost more than that and survived.”
Al paced the deck, casting dubious glances at the green and gold hills, the grand view of Willow Lake in the valley with the town of Avalon hugging its shore. “I understand that restless feeling,” Al said. “I was young once, too. But it’s a cockamamie scheme. It’s not that I don’t trust you or think you’re a good businessman. I simply can’t give my approval to your financial downfall.”
“The plan is to succeed, not fail,” Logan said, struggling to keep his voice even. A decade of anger and resentment simmered just beneath the surface. “And I don’t need your approval.”
“You haven’t thought this out,” his father said. “You’re panicking because Charlie is going to be moving so far away. You miss him and you’re trying to fill the void.”
Ah, so now Al was the armchair psychologist. “And what if I am?” asked Logan.
“Never make a decision driven by panic. It won’t work.”
“I’m not panicking, and it’s going to work.”
“You’ll be taking on a terrible burden of debt,” his father blustered. “It could be really bad.”
“Only if I default.” For some reason, Darcy Fitzgerald’s words came back to him. When it comes to leaps of faith, I’m a frequent flyer.
Part 4
T here’s nothing like starting the holidays with a spirited breakfast...
Eggnog Pancakes with Whiskey Butter
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
2½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup eggnog
2 tablespoons oil
1 egg, beaten
Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, nutmeg and salt. Make a well in the center, and pour in the eggnog, oil and egg. Mix until dry ingredients are evenly moist.
Pour ¼ cup batter onto a medium-hot griddle. When it’s bubbly on top, flip with a spatula, and continue cooking until lightly browned on bottom.
Recommended: Spray a metal cookie cutter with cooking spray and pour the batter into it to create shaped pancakes. This will elevate you in the eyes of friends and family.
Serve hot off the griddle with whiskey butter and real maple syrup.
Whiskey Butter:
½ cup butter, softened
2 tablespoons bourbon
1 tablespoon maple syrup
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
Blend everything together. Chill until ready to serve.
[Source: Original; inspired by true events]
Chapter Five
“S orry, I’m afraid I heard you wrong,” Darcy said to her sister Lydia. “Because I think I heard you say Huntley was planning to come to Thanksgiving dinner.” Darcy and Lydia had met at a lunch counter on Madison Avenue. She was juggling a big work project, but she’d made time to meet with her sister to talk about the upcoming holidays. She was already regretting the decision.
“No, you heard correctly,” Lydia assured her. “You know our families always
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