Page 64 of A Reckless Memory

I missed my niece and nephew and made a mental note to check in with Cody between the holidays. Our relationship had shifted. He’d still have his strong opinions about what I should do with my life and business, and he’d always be the oldest brother, but it was time he had someone butting into his life.

We were on our third snowman and the little girl was going full steam ahead while my body reminded me that it’d been years since I’d spent the day in the snow.

“What’s your favorite book?” Emmaline asked as we packed snow around the seams of the largest snowman.

“I’m supposed to say Murder on the Orient Express since I was named after the author, but I loved Where the Crawdads Sing.”

“Never heard of them. Do you know Peppa Pig?”

“No?” I struggled to recall the books I’d read to Cody’s kids over the years. With Meg, I was surprised she hadn’t started them on War and Peace right away.

“Uncle Ansen?”

He grinned. “No Peppa Pig for me.”

“Fancy Nancy?” she asked earnestly.

“If it’s a little girl’s book, I can guarantee I haven’t heard of it. I probably haven’t heard of any kids’ books.”

She put her hands on her hips in a move that must have come straight from her mother. “I’ll have to read you mine.”

“You can read?” I asked. My niece, Ivy, was only a little older, and she could read some books, but Emmaline spoke with the authority of someone who could recite Pride and Prejudice.

She nodded, beaming.

Laney poked her head out of the front door of their little farmhouse. “Ready for some hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate!” Emmaline sprinted away, leaving me and Ansen facing a sideways-tilting snowman.

“It’s not the worst I’ve ever made,” I said.

He chuckled and straightened. His cheeks were red and his gaze was lighter than I’d ever seen, including when we were younger. “I suspect Laney’s saving us from making three more.”

“Emmaline is quite the taskmaster. She’s almost as bossy as Daddy. He used to make us redo a snowman if we half-assed it.”

“Probably because he wanted you to quit playing and go back to work.”

My brothers, maybe. “Once, he came out to help me build one. He and Mama had a fight, and I think he wanted to prove he wasn’t the bad guy she thought he was.” I waved off the memory. It brought more humor with it than it used to, but the bitterness was still there. “Never mind. I don’t want to rain on our snowman parade.”

“He might’ve just wanted to have fun with his kids.” We started for the house. “Everything your brothers do around the ranch, he used to do himself.”

“Daddy wasn’t a deputy like Wilder—or in the army,” I joked, but I knew what he meant. Wilder and Austen still helped around the ranch—during horse sales and for calving season and working cattle, but Daddy used to run the oil business and Cody was now. Daddy had been the ranch manager until his lungs forced him inside, and even then, he’d clung to his role with white knuckles. Had Daddy known what it was like to have fun, or had work always been a priority? Had taking care of us been the reason behind his drive?

Mama hadn’t helped with anything. She’d go horseback riding and make meals and then curl up in her chair and read. We hadn’t done much as an entire family before Mama left. I didn’t think work needed to be a family affair, but play should be.

As we took our winter gear off in the entryway off the garage, I saw Archer buckling Vaden into a booster seat, Laney lining the table with various mugs of hot chocolate, and Emmaline carefully doling out mini marshmallows by each spot. It struck me that I didn’t have these types of family memories. I’d grown up in a big family, and size made it feel like we were closer than we were.

This was a close family. Parents who were still a couple. Kids who thrived and wanted to be included and were. A familiar ache ignited in my chest. Grief for what my brothers and I had missed out on, and maybe some residual longing for what could’ve been.

I shook it off and grinned at Ansen’s niece. Her hair was in a ponytail that was now crooked and hanging low, but she positioned herself in a chair like she was royalty. “Please, y’all have a seat.”

I slid into the spot she beckoned me to. “Thank you for inviting me.”

She pointed to the chair next to her. She was in the middle of me and Ansen. Laney and Archer flanked Vaden on the other side of the table. The house was smaller and had been added on to, but it was cozy and warm. The living room spilled over with dolls and books and large, plastic musical instruments.

Emmaline wiggled in her seat and dumped her mini marshmallows in her cup. “You’re welcome, Aunt Aggie,” she said primly.

Startled, I looked around the table. I was used to being called Aunt Aggie, but that was Cody’s kids. Laney just lifted a shoulder like she didn’t care if I didn’t care. Archer bit back a smile, and Ansen slid his gaze toward me as if asking me if I minded. I didn’t, but it also struck me that I would’ve been her and Vaden’s aunt, and maybe if Ansen and I had gotten married all those years ago, we would’ve been around since they’d been born. Eventually, I would’ve realized there was a rift in his immediate family that was more than distance and work obligations. I would’ve noticed his relationship with his brother and father was little more than what he had with his extended family. Would I have encouraged Ansen to close the distance?

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