The beach!

Malibu!

Shannon knew it in an instant. This was going to change her life.

It was true! It really was true! Shannon's face lit up, her shrill squeal of joy almost breaking her father's eardrums. She jumped up and down with unbridled excitement. Her own place! Her very own place! The idea made her feel impossibly giddy.

And Phil Masters, Shannon's dad, couldn't be more pleased. A quiet, conservative, pleasant looking man in his mid-forties with glasses, crew cut and spreading middle, he grinned at his exuberant daughter. She's so pretty, he thought. So lovely. So much like her mother. He was overjoyed with her reaction. He'd been worried about her, and he'd also been a little skeptical about this- hadn't known what she would think of what he'd done. But now he knew his instincts had steered him right.

How he wished she could be like this all of the time. She could be vivacious and light-hearted, like right now, which was really her natural temperament, but she could also show an attitude that was almost gloomy. There was good reason for it though. Life had been very hard on her. Twenty-one was much too young for a girl to have to bear all that she had. She'd lost her mother three years ago to cancer. Shannon had had to grow up fast. Her father had done all he could think of to help her, but there was no way he could bring back his wife, Shannon's mother. That was the most brutal, heart wrenching part of it. Shannon and her mother had been very close.

She hadn't been herself since the loss of her mother. Not truly. She didn't seem to enjoy things to the same degree anymore. As far as he knew, she had hardly dated at all since her mother's death, and once upon a time she had been boy crazy.

Shannon had been living in a dreary little apartment that she could barely afford. She worked hard, yet could hardly make the rental payment with her meager pay, working as a supermarket checker. She'd been miserable, although tried not to let on to her father. At all costs, she didn't want him worrying. Phil had offered her money often, but she was stubborn, and usually wouldn't accept it. He took her to lunch or dinner sometimes, but those were such little things. He'd wracked his brains for something he could do for her, until he finally realized how simple it had been all along—he'd buy her a home. He knew she loved the country, or at the very least, open spaces. She also loved the ocean. So he'd been out scouting real estate near the ocean. He figured he'd buy her a mobile home to put on some land. Only weeks later, he'd found an ideal one acre parcel of land not far from the Malibu beach shoreline for a ridiculously low price, so he'd acted out of character and snatched it up before he changed his mind, or someone else grabbed it. Normally overly prudent, for once in his life, he'd thrown caution to the wind and acted on impulse. He was sticking his neck out in not telling Shannon about it. But he wanted it to be a surprise. He had no idea what she'd say when he told her, but heck, he could always turn around and sell it, so no one would lose out.

He really couldn't go wrong, his analytical mind told him; she'd have her space, and privacy too, as she seemed to prize that. Since her mother had died, she'd not shown much interest in anyone or anything. Phil realized it was probably because the loss had caused her to be deeply afraid of another loss. The real world just hurt too much, and she was withdrawing. He knew all about it—he still missed his wife terribly. She and his daughter had been the brightest spots in his life. Now that his wife was gone, he wanted to ease his daughter's pain wherever he could, not to mention make things easier on her financially. This might be the answer. It wouldn't bring her mother back, but she'd at least have a place to call her own. With any luck, it might at least lift her spirits.

Shannon hadn't even seen the land yet. "Honey, don't get too excited. There's really not much to see. Just land. There's no fence put up yet, and really nothing but some trees and weeds there right now."

"I don't care! If you picked it out, I know I'll love it!" Shannon wrapped her arms around her dad and jumped up and down some more. He laughed. He was the one person in the world she adored, and he was proud of that.

If only her mother could see her… she seemed to get prettier all the time. The medium blond hair with red highlights. Not quite red enough to be classified as strawberry blond, but bordering on it. It came almost to the middle of her back, the fine strands always causing her frustration when it was windy. Uncommonly shiny though, and soft. Her eyes were somewhere between blue and green, bright and inquisitive, and her figure was slim yet shapely enough to leave no doubt she was a female. She was unmistakably feminine, yet almost fearless, an engaging combination. She could be shy at times, but could also be fierce when something roused her ire.

They drove out that very day to see the property; it was Saturday and they both had the day off. Phil knew she would have gone by herself whether he went or not. But he wanted to go with her—wanted to see her reaction. That was why he had waited until the weekend to tell her.

Shannon was awestruck the moment she laid eyes on it. It was true there were a lot of weeds, but she'd get that taken care of on the weekends in no time. In fact, she actually looked forward to it. She'd forgotten just how big an acre was! And it was hers! There were several nice trees on the property. The tree that was by far the most impressive though, was the majestic California live oak that her dad pointed out—although no one needed to call your attention to it. It was nearly fifty feet tall and at least thirty feet wide, and everything about it was magnificent. You couldn't help but be drawn to it. It stood right in the center of the property like a show piece. It was unique, with many branches that twisted elegantly every which way. Southern California had many wonderful coastal oak trees, but this one was exceptional.

"That tree is a real winner. Robust, and I bet you it's a hundred years old if it's a day," remarked her father. Shannon stared up at it in wonder.

"Evergreen too—you'll have that great foliage all year. And they hardly have to be watered. I was thinking maybe right there…" her dad pointed to a spot behind the oak. "That would be a good place to put a trailer for you—you know, a mobile home. Of course, we can put it anywhere you want to, but I thought that tree would give you the most privacy."

"Oh Daddy, I love you!" she started bouncing up and down again, using his shoulders to push off of, as he chuckled. "But…" she stopped suddenly, a sober look crossing over her expression. "I want to pay you rent, and I am going to, so there's to be no argument about it!"

"Okay, okay honey. I knew how you'd feel, so you can pay me a small amount of rent. But remember, I got this property dirt cheap, it's a good investment for me, and the payments won't be much at all. We'll talk about the amount later. Right now, we need to start looking at mobile homes. I want to get you moved in here as soon as possible, and out of that depressing apartment."

This was truly a dream come true for Shannon. Her dad only lived half an hour away from the property, in south Los Angeles, and she'd have her own home, unlike her apartment, where thin walls were all that separated her from other people, and you could hear just about everything they did and said. She couldn't even walk outside without being forced to talk to people who lived in the complex-practically on top of her. She could hardly be solitary the way she longed to be.

She currently lived more inland, an hour from here, but she came to the ocean whenever she got a chance. She loved the ocean with a passion. It didn't escape her quick mind that her father had picked a place with a full acre, and one that was less than half a mile from the ocean. Yes, her Daddy had put lots of thought into this, and she thanked God, as she did daily, that she was so loved by her father. She wanted to cling to him constantly, so grateful was she to have him. She even hated having him out of her sight. She was so terribly afraid of losing him…

When her dad asked her what she was looking for in a home, she really didn't have a ready answer. She hadn't actually ever given it much thought. At this point, she had thought she'd be in an apartment for a very long time to come. In the following weeks, as they mobile home shopped, everything was either in need of too many repairs, or if the homes were new, they lacked imagination, reminding Phil of something made on an assembly line—or even worse, cheaply made. Shannon told Phil she'd be more than happy with anything, but he knew his daughter well enough to deduce that none of the trailers they'd looked at had struck a spark in her. He hadn't seen that enthusiasm in her that she'd demonstrated when he'd showed her the property. It was true that she'd live in just about anything to escape the way she lived now. And they both wanted to get her into her new place as soon as possible. So she wouldn't mind settling on something less than ideal. Apartment life just did not suit her or enhance the inherently free person she really was on the inside. Even though she'd always lived in the city with her parents, she was a born country girl at heart with a healthy dash of a true affinity for the ocean. And this land would give her a taste of both. It had the capability, he believed, to help his daughter come to terms with her grief, to recover what she could of the happiness that had seeped out of her life, to allow her to shine the way she used to. He knew they'd find the right place if they'd only be patient.

However, his frustration was reaching new levels every night when he looked at the classified ads for mobile homes, every weekend when he viewed them with realtors. None of them were right. He usually went alone, as Shannon was almost always busy pulling weeds on her new acre of land, and making tremendous progress with it. Nevertheless, he had a fair idea of what Shannon was looking for. Something unique, something that would bring out her own individual personality. Something winsome. Not the cookie cutters that he kept finding. Shannon was confident her father would someday soon tell her he'd found something she might want to look at. When that didn't happen, she grew edgy, unsettled, anxious. She wanted, for the millionth time, to tell him that what she lived in didn't make that much difference to her. Something basic would do fine. Having the property and the beach so close was more than enough. But she knew her Daddy—he would want her in something nice that she would really enjoy, and he was far too perceptive to be fooled. When she was really excited about something, it just bubbled over without conscious control, and no way would she be able to hide her delight from him.

One evening, when it was almost dusk, Shannon and her dad had pulled up the last of the weeds together. It had been back breaking work, but the land looked so different—so clean and neat. They sat on lawn chairs, drinking iced tea and their eyes, as usually happened, strayed to the spectacular oak tree. It was so imposing that it was nearly impossible not to look at it. It was hard to believe four weeks had elapsed since Phil had shown her where her new home would be.

That evening, sitting there together, her dad said something that changed everything in an instant. The way the land had changed everything, only magnified by many times.

"Remember when you were a little girl and you always wanted a treehouse, but I was working so much that I never did get the time to build you one?" he asked.

"Yeah, I sure do. How could I forget? You were working hard to support me and mom, and she explained it to me, so I understood… I really did. You were also a workaholic."

"Still am. But now that I'm a little older, I don't push myself quite as hard. If I could relive those days though, when you were little, I would spend more time with you, and… also build that treehouse you always wanted. It's funny, but you know, that tree right there would be perfect for a treehouse. Wish we'd had one like it in our backyard back then. It's healthy, strong and stable, and the way the branches are placed, it has just the right structure for a treehouse."

He was talking idly, but it brought an inner revelation that commanded Shannon's attention within seconds. The irrepressible excitement was back abruptly.

"Daddy…" she picked her words carefully. She tried to govern her sudden eagerness. "We haven't been able to find a trailer that seems to fit me, but, is there a chance… just a tiny, itty bitty chance… that we could make a treehouse in that tree?" She had a catch in her chest, a breathlessness that carried a promise of a hint of a possibility so remote that she was afraid to say anything more.

"Shannon, honey. We need to concentrate on a place for you to live before we could even consider a treehouse," her dad smiled fondly at her. She was still a dreamer, always had been, and probably always would be. Still a little girl at heart.

"No, Daddy. That's not what I meant…" she was trying to harness her enthusiasm, but feeling more breathless with each passing second. She was all but gasping.

"What I was trying to say was, is there any possibility of me living in a treehouse?"

Phil just stared at her. He must have heard her wrong. It took him a moment to compose himself. "What?" he murmured, his voice sounding uncharacteristically robotic, because he was truly in a mild state of shock.

"My dream, Daddy! My dream of the treehouse I never got. I can't believe you just now put the idea in my head, but do you think there might be some way? You said that tree is perfect!" she waited with bated breath for him to reject the idea vehemently, or even worse, laugh at her idea. Not that he would do that, but she could hardly contain the anticipation of his response.

He already knew the tree had no evidence of diseases or parasites. He also knew these oaks usually live two or three hundred years, so the tree was neither too old nor too young. It had a crotch about ten or twelve feet up—ideal for a superior platform, which is where the foundation is formed. It couldn't have been more perfect for the purpose than if he'd picked the tree out himself, he marveled inwardly.

Phil studied the tree some more, walked over to it and ran his hands along the bark, looked at the branches, as if he hadn't done that dozens of times already, in fact every time they came here. What he didn't tell her was that the same idea had crossed his mind, but he'd dismissed it as silly.He had just assumed that childhood fantasy of her wanting a treehouse was long gone. Well, if she'd had the same idea… Right now it seemed to Shannon that he appeared to be taking furious notes in his head. He had a preoccupied look in his grey flecked eyes.

Shannon stayed in her chair, even though she wanted to run to him and demand he say something, anything. Treehouses had always held a special magic for her, even though she'd only been in one once before in her life. Her neighbor's treehouse. She'd been in love with them ever since she'd first seen it, before even climbing the ladder. It had made her feel free in a wonderful way, and she hadn't forgotten it. The idea of actually being able to live in one was something she could hardly conceive of, so thrilling was the idea. But she was also so terribly afraid to hope…

When Phil came back to his chair, he still sported a strange, far-off look. He schooled his expression, however, to appear sober and solemn. He spoke slowly and deliberately.

"So, you want a treehouse as your only dwelling?" he asked, to be sure he'd understood her correctly.

She nodded eagerly, feeling as if she were about ready to burst from the intoxication of this outlandish, yet tantalizing, fantasy-world idea.

"Honey, I've never even heard of that being done! I mean… there are so many things to consider. You don't realize….It would have to be big enough to have a living room, a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. Not to mention the most complicated parts—Electric, gas, water, bathroom facilities." The last two words had brought a measure of embarrassment, and he averted his eyes momentarily.

"But on the other hand," he continued, before she started to protest, as he knew she would. "I have an electrician friend. You know him…Hank... he could help me with that part of it. And I know people who could help with the water part, but I'd have to find out about the gas, although we might be able to use electric only. As for the bathroom part, well… that would be a bit more involved. I'd have to install a septic tank. Then there's the refrigerator, stove, furniture. It would be your house, so it would have to include everything any house built on the ground does."

"But is it possible?" she couldn't help but ask that particular question again. "Daddy, you're an architectural engineer! If anyone could do it, you could!"

She did have a point there. He'd been at his profession for twenty- five years, and was respected in his field. With his knowledge along with Hank and various other friends, he wondered to himself, with their combined talents, if they just might be able to pull it off.

"Shannon, I'm not sure, not sure at all. I'll ask around though, and get ideas from people. I do have friends who would be happy to help me build it, and when all is said and done, it would cost a lot less than any trailer I could buy. But I don't, for one minute, want you to even consider it a strong possibility at this point."

That was all she could ask of him, all she expected right now—that he just consider it. She knew her father well; he loved projects, but they were usually small ones, like building shelves, cabinets, and similar things. So she had no doubt, that he would enjoy this and it would give him great satisfaction. Otherwise she wouldn't dream of asking him. And with friends to help him…now she really had high hopes...Shannon knew she wasn't going to sleep much tonight….