Page 65 of In the Dust

“Well, I’ve got a few racks of ribs I thawed from the freezers. Some chicken leg quarters too.”

“Oh, you’ve been planning!” I open the fridge door, seeing seasoned meats in trays. “This is so perfect, Grandpa.”

He pats my shoulder. “Invite everyone. We had a successful harvest, and I want to treat you kids. And I know of a birthday coming up, but I figured you’d be too busy this weekend to spend time with little old me.”

I scoff, “You know I’m never too busy for you.” I’m excited to be home for my birthday. Normally, me and G celebrate by tucking in for a night of old romance movies in the city, and if I feel up to it, we’ll go out to dance. But nothing compares to a birthday at home, trading the city lights for the twinkling stars. “Will Dad be on shift?”

Grandpa shakes his head. “No, I made sure he was going to be coming today.”

As if on cue, Dad walks through the door, chucking his bag on the floor. “Hey, kiddo.”

It’s like I’m eight years old on Christmas morning, just waiting for him to get home from his shift so we can open up Santa’s presents. But now that I’m older, this is even better. An entire Sunday filled with my favorite people.

I rush over and hug him. “We’re cooking today!”

He rolls his eyes. “You mean I’m grilling all day?” he teases, but he loves it. That’s all they do at the department, anyway, hang out and smoke meats.

I look between them. “Mind if I invite Colton?”

“Invite Harper and Jackson too,” Grandpa adds. “It’s your birthday dinner.”

I rush up the stairs. “Harper’s already up here!” I laugh.

When I open up my bedroom door, Harper’s sprawled out on the bed, snoozing. “Harp.” I shake her, but she only yells at me.

“No, Mama!” She groans.

I cover her up, like her mama would. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you sleep,” I tell her, slowly backing away from the bed so I can decide what to wear for this day that I just know is going to be perfect.

* * *

The day is halfway over,and I’m busy in the kitchen making sides when Colton comes in. “Hey, darlin’.” He kisses my cheek when he passes, dipping his finger into the potato salad.

“Hey!” I playfully swat his hand away, and he recedes into the living room with Grandpa. The family recipe book is strewn out in front of me, and I keep flipping it over to find more things to make.

Harper and Jackson walk in behind him, and she throws on an apron. “Where can I help?” Her eyes roam over the array of sides. Potato salad, cranberry sauce, homemade barbeque sauce, a few pies, and green bean casserole.

“Deviled eggs!” I remember. “With bacon on top!”

“Got it.” She grins, going into cooking mode. Jackson turns to leave.

I quickly say, “And Jackson, can y’all make a punch?”

“Me?” He smirks. “And him?” He points to the living room where Colton is telling Grandpa some elaborate story that requires full use of his muscled arms.

“Yes, now scoot!” I tell him.

It’s a full day of laughter and making food with my family and friends. I swing out to help Dad by the grill, but he’s got it all under control, and it smells so good!

“Anything else?” I ask Grandpa as I roam over the full countertops.

He pats his belly, waddling over to the pies. “One of these is mine, right?”

I smile. “Yours is already tucked away in the back of the fridge.”

“That’s my girl.”

* * *

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