Page 52 of Silver Lining Love

A single drip of water slid down my neck as I made my way down the stairs. I’d hopped in the shower for a quick rinse-off after Benji went down for his nap and hadn’t taken the time to dry my hair. I’d just pulled it up in a ponytail while it was still wet. Either he hadn’t slept that long, or I’d taken longer in the shower than I’d meant to, because when I went back to the room I’d laid him down in, he was gone.

As I made my way down the steps, I heard music playing, pots and pans clattering, and voices coming from the kitchen in the back of the house so I headed there. On my way down the hall, I couldn’t help but admire all the family pictures hung on the walls. Even though I knew each one was just a snapshot in time, it was clear to see that this was a family filled with love and laughter.

In each photo, one thing or I guess, person, stood out to me. Wyatt. Not just because he was arguably the most attractive of his brothers, of course, I might be biased, but because in a lot of the photos, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. They say a picture paints a thousand words, and Wyatt’s definitely told a story.

It wasn’t that he appeared miserable, but he definitely didn’t look happy. It was a stark contrast to the carefree and wild demeanor of the rest of his siblings. Except for his older brother Sawyer, that is. Even in the photos of Sawyer as a young child, he wasn’t smiling. But the eldest Briggs sibling’s expression seemed more stoic than sad, whereas Wyatt appeared genuinely morose.

That thought followed me like a black cloud as I entered the kitchen. As soon as I did, the cloud was lifted. I found Alice standing on a stool beside Dolly. Benji was in a wooden highchair that I recognized from some of the family pictures dating all the way back to Sawyer sitting in it. Benji had a pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other and was banging them together. From the speaker on the counter, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” was playing.

The scene instantly made me miss my sister. This was the sort of environment that Alice would have grown up in if Addi was still alive. Not all the screaming and crying and breakdowns that she was exposed to under my supervision.

“Auntie Whitney!” Alice exclaimed when she noticed I’d come in. “Miss Dolly is teaching me how to make her famous fried chicken!”

Earlier today, when Dolly announced what would be for dinner tonight, Wyatt had explained that his mom only made the dish on special occasions andnevershared the recipe with anyone. I felt honored that she’d shared it with Alice, even though she was four and wouldn’t remember it. It still felt special.

“Wow! That’s awesome!” I enthused.

“I’m her big helper,” Alice stated proudly as Benji tossed the pans down to the ground and tensed his body so it was straight as he let out a cry indicating he was unhappy being in the high chair.

I started to walk across the kitchen, but I’d only made it two steps before Dolly had him out, on her hip, and she was turned back helping Alice. It was like Wonder Woman in a phone booth changing clothes.

“Do you want me to take him?” I reached out my arms.

“No, we’re good. Aren’t we?” she asked before kissing him on the top of his head.

Benji answered with an unintelligible noise.

I heard a phone buzz and looked down at the counter and saw it was Michael’s. At home, the device never left his hand.

“Is Mikey still out with Wyatt and Walker?” I asked. Mikey had been outside shadowing Walker, Wyatt’s dad, and Wyatt as the men worked on the farm.

Dolly nodded. “Last I saw, they were headed toward the north field.”

“Do you mind if I run out and check on him?”

“Of course!” Dolly enthused.

“Here, I can take Benji.” I stretched my arms out again.

“No, we’re fine here.”

“Are you sure?” I knew how difficult it could be to keep Benji’s hands out of things when I was trying to cook. For example, right now, Benji had a large fist of Dolly’s hair in one hand and his wooden spoon in the other, which he was flailing around.

“If I couldn’t do things with a baby on my hip, I wouldn’t have gotten anything done for a decade,” Dolly explained.

She had a point.

“Now go check on your boys.” Dolly smiled warmly.

My boys.It was sweet that she called them that, even though nothing was official with Wyatt and me. I hadn’t had a clue how his family would be about him showing up with me and three kids, but they had been more welcoming, more accepting, more loving than I ever could have hoped for.

I felt a tear prick in my eyes. All my life, I’d wanted a big family. Growing up, I’d dreamed of having more siblings and a mom and dad who loved me. Not that I didn’t appreciate my grandparents. I did. Without them, I have no clue what would have happened to my sister and me.

But they were all gone now. Now it was just me. I wanted to give Michael, Alice, and Benji the security I’d never felt. But I knew I couldn’t do that in D.C. Even with Wyatt next door, I didn’t have a community, not like this.

The screen door squeaked as I walked onto the back porch. My breath was momentarily stolen as I looked out onto the fields of green for as far as the eye could see. Blue skies with scattered white cotton ball clouds. A red barn was off to the right, and on the left sat a pond beneath a large oak tree. The view was absolutely stunning. The house and the land were so picturesque I felt like I was in a Hallmark movie.

I made my way down the steps, and as I rounded the corner of the barn on my way to the north field, I saw Moose whimpering beside the coop. His nose was pressed up against the chicken wire. Goldie Hen was on the other side, rubbing her neck against his wet nose.

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