Chapter Two

Kyle

Inever get sick of the sight of the vineyard, row after row of vines stretching out before me with the mountains in the distance. This time of year the leaves of the once lush green vines are turning shades of orange and brown, the fruit picked and the frantic pace of harvest behind us. I dig the toe of my boot into the rich soil and inhale the scent of damp earth.

"Hey, little brother!" John calls out, his voice booming across the vineyard.

I turn to see him striding towards me, a grin plastered on his face, the farm dogs trailing behind.

"Hey, John," I reply, taking off my Akubra and pushing my hair back off my face. "Did you get finished slashing the back paddock?"

"Sure did," he says, coming to a stop beside me. The sweat glistens on his face, his eyes shielded by the hat pulled low over his brow. He's always been the more robust one, with arms thick and muscled from years of hard work on the family vineyard.

"You get everything done you needed to do out here?"

"Nearly." I lean against one of the wooden posts that separate each row of vines, and gesture to my left. "Only a couple more rows to go. I'll get it done tomorrow."

"So you're ready to call it a day?"

"Absolutely. It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it." He chuckles, ruffling my hair affectionately.

It's a gesture he's done since we were kids, and it makes me smile even as I duck then jam my hat back on my head. "But you know what they say—no rest for the wicked. Thank God it's a labour of love."

He laughs. It was an expression our dad used to say all the time. Working a vineyard isn't for the faint of heart—up at the crack of dawn through all seasons and all weather.

"Truer words have never been spoken," he says, looking around at the vines surrounding us. "But all the hard work pays off. This year's harvest was a good one. You've worked hard and did an awesome job, Kyle. You've really stepped up these past few years."

"Thanks," I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat at the compliment. "But I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course not," he teases, giving me a playful nudge with his elbow. "We're in it together."

We share a laugh as we head back to the homestead. It's moments like these that remind me of how lucky I am to have John by my side—not just as a brother, but as a friend and confidant as well. He's always been my rock—both protective and supportive in everything I do. Our bond is something special, and I couldn't have asked for a better brother.

The sun sinks low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the vineyard as John and I make our way up the long driveway. I've always loved this time of day, when the sun throws long shadows, and everything is bathed in the soft light. It's almost as if the sun is blessing the vineyard and the sunset is like a reward for the hard day's work.

"Kyle, have you ever thought about getting out more?" John asks suddenly, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

"Getting out? What do you mean?"

"You know, doing something different," he continues. "It worries me that you've devoted your life to this vineyard and I don't want to be holding you back."

"I go out."

"I don't mean a casual beer with your mates, or watching the footy. Maybe going to a party or hanging out with some new people?"

"Uh, not really." The familiar knot of anxiety forms in my stomach at the mere mention of social gatherings. Crowds have never been my thing—I much prefer the quiet solitude of the farm, where I can tend to the grapes and lose myself in the rhythm of the seasons. It's what I know, where I'm comfortable.

"Come on, it might be good for you," John presses gently. "There's a whole world out there beyond these vines, you know. You've just got to put yourself out there."

"Easy for you to say," I mutter, kicking at a stray pebble as we walk. "You're married to your high school sweetheart and you and Sarah have a great life together. When was the last time you went anywhere by yourself?"

"True," he says, "but Sarah and I both believe you deserve to experience more of what life has to offer. Besides, who knows? You might meet someone special along the way."

Heat crawls up my neck at the thought of meeting someone, and I quickly look away, focusing on the gravel beneath my feet. The truth is, I've never been very good at connecting with others—especially when it comes to romance. My shyness tends to get the better of me, leaving me tongue-tied and flustered in the presence of anyone I find attractive.

"Okay, fine," I sigh, knowing that John won't let this go as it's been a recurring subject over the last few months. "I'll think about getting out more."

"Great, I'm glad to hear it," he replies. "And remember, you've got Sarah and me here to support you every step of the way."

Sarah and John live in the main homestead, the house where our mum and dad raised us. Mum and Dad have been gone coming up to ten years now. I live in the cottage at the back of the property, but I usually join John and Sarah for dinner.

As we reach the house, the subject changes to the forecast for the coming week and some of the knot in my belly eases as we slip back into easy conversation. At the back door we hang up our hats and toe off our boots then walk in socked feet to the laundry where we wash up in the huge sink.

The scent of roast lamb greets us as we enter the kitchen and my stomach rumbles in response.

"He's here!" Mia, my seven-year-old niece, claps her hands with excitement from where she sits at the large kitchen table. "Uncle Kyle is here."

Leo, her ten-year-old brother seated next to her, looks unimpressed as he fiddles with a Lego racing car. Baby Olivia sits in her highchair smearing pureed vegetables around.

"Happy birthday, Kyle," Sarah says, approaching to kiss my cheek. "Now you boys take a seat while I dish up."

"Can I help?" I ask.

"Not today, you can't," she says. "Today, you get to be waited on hand and foot. You too, John. Go sit down. You can help with the washing up later."

I smile and nod, taking my usual seat.

"Happy birthday, Uncle Kyle," Mia says. "We're having birthday cake."

"It's not cake, it's pavlova," Leo replies, and the two of them proceed to have an argument.

"Kids, knock it off," John scolds, placing plates of food in front of everyone.

We all dig in when Sarah joins us, conversation at a minimum as we fill our bellies. As soon as the initial hunger is satiated, the kids start talking a mile a minute, telling us about their school day. Eventually we have cake, or rather pavlova, and the obligatory singing of "Happy Birthday." It may be a simple meal but I'm surrounding by my family, the people who mean the most to me, and I couldn't ask for a better way to celebrate turning twenty-five.

Cake eaten, the kids push back their chairs and escape to the living room, while Sarah takes Olivia from her highchair to get ready for bed. John doesn't allow me to help clear the table, so I watch on while he stacks the plates, then makes coffee, placing the mugs on the table.

Sarah comes back to the kitchen and both she and John sit down opposite me. They share a conspiratorial glance and straight away I'm on alert.

"Kyle, we have something for you," Sarah says. She slides a large envelope across the table towards me.

I put down my coffee and instinctively reach for it.

"Go on, open it," John urges. He leans back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me with interest.

"I thought I said no presents," I say glancing between the two of them.

"I know, but it means a lot to us to give this to you," Sarah says and takes John's hand.

"Thank you." There's a flutter of nerves in my stomach as I slowly tear open the envelope, revealing a card. I slide it from the envelope. Folded alongside the card is a glossy brochure. The words Pride Cruise catch my eye, the rainbow lettering standing out.

"Surprise!" John and Sarah exclaim in unison. They grin at each other before turning their attention back to me.

"A brochure for a Pride Cruise?"

John chuckles and gestures to the envelope with his mug. "Open the card."

I do as he says and a folded piece of paper drops onto the tabletop. I unfold it then raise my eyes. "A ticket on a Pride Cruise?"

"Yep!" Sarah says. "We thought this would be the perfect holiday for you. I mean, who doesn't like the idea of cocktails and tropical islands?"

"Aahh… me?"

She rolls her eyes. "That was a rhetorical question. But listen, Kyle, it'll be a great opportunity for you to experience something new and I'm sure you'll meet some amazing people."

"That's what I'm worried about." As I stare down at the ticket in my hand, a whirlwind of emotions swirls inside me—mainly fear and apprehension.

"Don't worry, it's not just about partying and crowds. There are workshops, seminars, and plenty of quiet spaces on board," John tries to reassure me.

He knows me well. The idea of going on a cruise and being around a ton of people is so outside my comfort zone that I can't even process it. I take a long drink of my coffee as I digest what he said, but even knowing it's not just about partying doesn't put me at ease.

Sarah reaches across the table to give my hand a comforting squeeze. "We know it's a big step, but we truly believe this will be an incredible experience for you, Kyle."

I know their hearts are in the right place but the thought of stepping into an entirely new world filled with people is terrifying. I take in the hopeful look on their faces, look down at the ticket, and back to them again.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," John urges. "Say you're ready to go on this adventure and see where it takes you."

With a deep breath, and I nod my head in agreement, the words catching in my throat. "Okay," I finally manage to say. "I'll go."

John grins. "I'm so proud of you, little brother."

"Thanks," I reply, although to be honest I'm already regretting agreeing. "I don't know what to expect. What if I hate it?"

"It's only ten days. Just remember to have fun, be yourself, and keep an open mind. The rest will fall into place."

We fall silent and drink our coffees, until eventually John pushes up from the table, gathers the empty mugs, and follows Sarah to the dishwasher.

I tuck the brochure and ticket safely back into the envelope, and wander out onto the front verandah, the envelope clutched in my hand. The sky is dark as ink, the stars bright, the moon casting faint shadows. The temperature has dropped since the sun set and I wrap my arms around myself against the chill.

As I look out at the familiar landscape, I feel a tug of longing deep within me. I've spent my entire life here, tending to these vines and keeping the family legacy alive. But there's so much more to life than just this farm, isn't there? It's a world that both terrifies and excites me. I can't believe that soon I'll be out there exploring it.