Page 3 of Dust Storm

The burns on my fingers were proof of that.

By the time she finished her plate, I was tugging the neat fishtail braids so they were loose and puffy.

Apparently, tight braids weren’t cool anymore.

“My turn!” Gracie said as she elbowed her way to the tackle box. “I want?—”

“Notfishtail braids,” Bree clipped.

I stifled an eye roll.

All I wanted was one morning where they weren’t at each other’s throats about who got what. Was that too much to ask?

I should have already been at work.

“I want a halo braid.”

That seemed to appease Bree.

Gracie made a taco out of her pancake, filling it with eggs and a crumble of bacon before meeting me on the couch. She laid on her side and rested her head on my leg while I braided her hair into a crown.

As I was pinning the tail under the braid with a bobby pin, Bree called out, “Grandma’s here!”

Gracie shot off the couch like a rocket.

“Lunches are in the fridge,” I said as I cleared the couch of hair paraphernalia.

They shouldered their backpacks and stomped their shoes on. The fridge door slammed as they grabbed their respective lunchboxes.

No matter how much they begged to buy lunch at school, a homemade lunch meant I cared. It meant I put in the time and effort.Right?

Maybe I should just let them get lunch at school.

I ran a hand down the side of my beard as I watched them load up like pack mules.

My mom sat in her idling minivan as the girls bolted into the back and buckled up.

“Thanks,” I said to Mom as I craned through the passenger window.

I tried to be all things for all people. Especiallymypeople. And my daughters were my people.

After Gretchen passed, I grieved. I took a minimal amount of time to be selfish. And then I picked myself up and had to be dadandmom for my girls.

Unfortunately, there weren’t enough hours in the day. So, I finally broke down and accepted help for things like school drop off and pick up.

“Anytime,” she said over a sip of coffee from her thermos. “Don’t forget about that consultant coming in today.”

I scoffed over the symphony of buckling seatbelts. “Pretty sure I said that was ayouproblem. I’m not the one who hired her.”

Mom snickered. “I’m not either. Becks is the one who recommended her, and you know better than to act ugly to your sister-in-law.”

I chuckled, thinking about the sharp-tongued war correspondent my older brother fell in love with while he was deployed.

Yeah, I knew better than to mess with Becks.

“Your dad thinks it’s a good idea. I think it’s a good idea. Be on your best behavior and I’ll leave you be until dinner.”

I shuffled down to the open side door, leaning in to drop kisses on Bree and Gracie’s foreheads. “Have a good day. Love you.”

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