Page 107 of Truck Hard

“Good news?” Garret asks, though his smirk suggests he already knows the answer.

“She wants to talk.” I can’t keep the hope from my voice. “Tomorrow at Frank’s.”

He nods approvingly. “See? Staying steady pays off.”

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly overwhelmed by the possibilities tomorrow holds. “I just hope—”

“Dad!” Rayne’s voice interrupts from downstairs. “Aunt Char says the cookies are ready! Come try them!”

Garret’s face lights up at her words—not just at the promise of cookies, but at being called ‘Dad.’ Same as me, he missed out on being her Dad for ten years. It’s still new enough to make him beam every time. It’s a filling I know well.

“Coming, sweetheart!” He calls back. “You too, Uncle Liam. Those cookies won’t eat themselves.”

I follow him downstairs, into the warmth of the kitchen. Charlotte stands at the counter, her blonde hair dusted with flour, while Rayne proudly displays a plate of slightly misshapen but enthusiastically decorated cookies.

“Look!” She exclaims. “I made this one specially for you, Uncle Liam. See? It has a wrench on it because you fix cars!”

My throat tightens unexpectedly as I accept the cookie—complete with a wobbly blue frosting wrench. “It’s perfect, kiddo. Thank you.”

Charlotte catches my eye over Rayne’s head, her expression knowing. “Everything okay?” she asks softly.

“Yeah.” I smile, and for the first time in days, it feels genuine. “I think it will be.”

We spend the next hour in the kitchen, sampling cookies and listening to Rayne’s elaborate plans for decorating her new bedroom once it’s finished. The scene is so domestic, so full of easy affection, that it makes my chest ache with longing.

This is what I want—not just with Hannah, but for Cam too. A home filled with laughter and love. A family that’s messy and imperfect but whole.

As the sun starts to set, I help clean up the kitchen. Rayne insists on sending me home with a bag of cookies. “For Cam!” she declares. “And Grams too!”

“Thanks, kiddo.” I ruffle her hair, earning a giggle. “I’m sure they’ll love them.”

Garret walks me out, the evening air cool against my skin. “You’ve got this,” he says simply. “Just remember. Steady.”

I nod, understanding what he means. No pushing, no rushing. Just being there, showing up, proving through actions that I’m not going anywhere.

“Thanks.” I clap him on the shoulder. “For everything.”

The walk home gives me time to think, to plan what I’ll say tomorrow. But as I get closer to the homestead, I realize that maybe planning isn’t what I need. Maybe what Hannah and I both need is just honesty—raw and real and sometimes messy, but true.

The house is quiet when I enter, most of my brothers are either out or in their rooms. But Grams sits in her usual spot on the porch swing, knitting needles clicking softly in the gathering dusk.

“Brought you cookies,” I say, settling beside her. “Rayne and Charlotte’s latest creation.”

She sets aside her knitting to peer into the bag. “Ah, that girl has talent. Though her frosting technique needs work.” Her sharp eyes find mine. “You seem different tonight. Less broody.”

I can’t help but laugh. Trust Grams to cut right to the heart of things. “Hannah wants to talk. Tomorrow.”

“Good.” She picks up her knitting again, needles resuming their steady rhythm. “About time you two sorted things out.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Isn’t it?” She doesn’t look up from her work, but I can hear the wisdom in her voice. “Love isn’t complicated. People make it complicated. With their fears and their pride and their inability to just say what they mean.”

I think about that as I watch the stars emerge, twinkling against the darkening sky. About all the things left unsaid between Hannah and me. About how sometimes the simplest truths are the hardest to voice.

“I just want her to be happy.” I admit quietly. “Her and Cam both.”

“Then tell her that.” Grams reaches over to pat my knee. “Sometimes that’s all we need to hear—that someone wants our happiness more than they want anything else.”

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