Page 68 of When We Burn

“Hi, guys,” I reply with a wave and take my seat. “I’m crashing Sunday dinner.”

“Well, now I’m extra homesick,” Papa says with a wink.

They moved to Florida a few years ago, ready to retire from ranch life, and Mama loves Disney, so it made sense for them to be down there.

But I know that everyone misses them.

“Grandma, we rode the horses today,” Birdie says, taking over the conversation. “And I got to play with the puppies, but they’re going to find homes soon. And there are baby goats.”

“Well, that sounds like a fun day,” Mama says with a soft smile. “Did you help feed the cows?”

“Yep, and I got eggs from the chickens.”

Bridger’s hand covers mine, but I smile up at him. I’m fine.

I glance back to the phone, and I can plainly see that Mama notices where Bridger’s hand is, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

We make small talk as we finish eating, laughing at some of Blake’s stories from the ER. I might be biased, but I think Blake is one of the best doctors there is.

Suddenly, I notice that Birdie gets a weird look on her face.

“Are you okay, baby girl?” I ask her softly, but Bridger hears me and turns his attention to his daughter.

“I’m just tired,” Birdie says and leans back in her chair.

Bridger crooks his finger at her. “Come sit on my lap, peanut.”

Not needing to be told twice, Birdie walks around the table as Bridger scoots back a little and pulls her into his lap. Birdie leans on his chest, as though they’ve sat just like this since she was a baby, which I’m sure they have, and it makes my chest squeeze.

He kisses Birdie’s head and pats her back rhythmically as she settles in for a snuggle.

“I have news,” Mama says, catching our attention. “Your father and I will be there in a few weeks. It’ll be time for apple picking and going to the pumpkin patch, and you know how I love that. Plus, Birdie’s old enough to really enjoy it, and I want to enjoy it with her.”

“Great,” Bee says, clapping her hands. “And you can see my shop.”

“We can’t wait to see it, honey,” Papa says. “Get some Westerns in for me, yeah?”

“I can do that,” Bee replies.

“Don’t worry, Beck, we won’t take over the farmhouse.”

“This is your home,” Beckett says. “Of course, you’ll stay here.”

“No, it’syourhome,” Mama reminds him. “And we’ll be staying at a place in town. We found the cutest bungalow, and this way we don’t have to do as much driving.”

“If you change your mind, just let me know,” Beck replies.

“Dani, I’d like to have lunch with you and your sisters when I’m there,” Mama says. “With Bee, of course. A day out with all my girls.”

“That sounds fabulous.” Bee and I share a smile. “We’ll absolutely be down for that. You name the time and place and we’ll make it happen.”

“What about the boys?” Brooks asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are we, chopped liver?”

“No, darling boy, we’ll get lunch, too. Oh, I’m so excited to see my kids,” Mama says with tears in her eyes. “You all be good. We love you.”

“Love you,” everyone replies, waving and blowing kisses, and then they’re gone.

The way the Blackwells grew up versus the way my family did, is as different as it gets. Polar opposites. I’m not used to family dinners together. I mean, sure, I get together with Holden and my sisters a few times a year to eat and talk, but we don’t do this every week.

---