Page 71 of Headed for Home

“You’ve found yourself a keeper.” Aunt June pats my hand. “Keep it that way.”

My throat clogs, vision blurry. I lower my gaze before more tears fall. “Wow, so… what looks good to eat?”

“Mini tacos!” Charlie exclaims.

Drake cringes. “Those aren’t on the menu, but I’ll get them added.”

My son pouts but his enthusiasm rebounds instantly. “I want mac and cheese.”

Kenzie gasps. “Me too!”

“I’m hearing there are big appetites to feed.” Harper appears, balancing a tray of water glasses. “This is my assistant. She’s still in training.”

Sydney bows before helping her mom distribute the full cups. “I’m gonna work at Roosters when I’m old like Mommy.”

“Jeez, thanks.” Harper huffs, barely looking a day over twenty-five.

“Want some candy?” Syd wedges herself between Kenzie and Charlie.

“Yes!” The twins lift their cupped palms in eager acceptance.

“It’s rainbowed and funny shapes.” Sydney opens a metal box, popping a tiny piece into her mouth. “Tastes yummy.”

“Holy smokes.” Harper is immediately at her daughter’s side, horror painting her face. “Where did you get that?”

Syd blinks. “On the counter.”

The feisty blonde snatches the tin and whirls on her heel, marching to the bar. “Garrett Foster!”

“Uh-oh, that’s her mad voice.” Sydney skips off after her mom, completely unperturbed by the outburst.

“Peens are private,” Harper hisses to the man responsible. “Don’t leave your junk lying out.”

“That’s definitely what she said,” he jokes.

“It’s not funny.” She presses the container into his chest. “Sydney was munching on these and offered them to her friends.”

Garrett shrugs. “Sharing is caring.”

The two begin arguing while we return to our gathering. Kenzie and Charlie slouch in their chairs, sullen after the loss of a sweet treat. I shudder at what they almost put in their mouth. Paisley and Drake are on the verge of laughing their pants off.Nothing like penis candy to spark a controversy. My aunt fidgets, more than likely trying to scrounge up a more appropriate topic.

“Oh!” Her expression shines. “Are you getting excited for T-ball, Charlie? Your first practice is next week, right?”

I wince and subtly shake my head. “No, no, no.”

My little boy’s bottom lip begins to wobble. “It got cancelled.”

“What? Why?” June appears stricken at the thought.

“The coach backed out at the last minute,” I mutter. “I’m looking for a different activity but kindergarten starts soon.”

My optimistic gaze studies Charlie for a shift in mood. The mention of school usually boosts his energy like a plug into a socket. But his posture stays stooped, along with his frown.

“I’ll be the coach.” Drake announces the suggestion casually as if the option is that simple.

“Trouble,” I scold.

But it’s too late. The little baseball hopeful heard him. “You gonna be my coach?”

---