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“I’m serious.”

I look at her for a moment.

“You’d spend a week in Nantucket babysitting my children?”

“Babysitting makes it sound charitable. I’m volunteering for a free coastal vacation with two kids I already love.”

I laugh despite myself.

“You’d need your own room.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’d need somewhere large enough for all of us.”

“Rent a house.”

I pause. That is actually possible.

Through the firm, through the collector network, through any number of people attending the gathering, I could probably find something more practical than multiple hotel rooms.

Erica sees the thought taking shape.

“There,” she says. “You’re already planning it.”

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re planning.”

I look toward Wells and Miles again. They are back on the floor, arguing about the same construction project as before. This time, the idea of leaving them behind feels unnecessary.

“I could make it work,” I say.

“You absolutely could.”

“And you’re really willing to come?”

“Yes,” Erica replies. “Make the arrangements.”

I smile.

“Okay.”

Her expression brightens.

“Good.”

I look back toward the boys and the tension in my chest eases a little. At least this trip doesn’t have to mean leaving them behind.

***

Two weeks later, I'm sitting at a small desk overlooking a strip of silver-blue water while Wells and Miles chase each other across the lawn behind the house. The rental is exactly what I needed. Three bedrooms, enough space for Erica and the boys, a compact office off the main living area, and a weathered cedar exterior that makes the place feel unmistakably Nantucket without being ostentatious. One of my contacts connected me with the owner, and the arrangement came together quickly enough that I never had to reconsider bringing everyone.

From the window, I can see Miles sprint toward the edge of the patio while Wells follows at a more measured pace, already trying to explain why whatever game they're playing needs rules. Erica is outside with them, stretched out in one of the chairs with sunglasses pushed into her hair. I smile despite myself. Bringing them was the right decision.

The boys have spent most of the morning moving between the beach, the yard, and whatever new obsession they discover every twenty minutes. They're loud, restless, happy, and completely unconcerned with the collection notes spread across my desk. I turn back to my laptop and finish reviewing the schedule for the Pembroke gathering.

The next few days are full without being overwhelming. Private collection visits, advisory meetings, small dinners, and a handful of conversations I've been looking forward to since Mercer & Vale accepted the invitation.