Page 89 of Truck Hard

“I’m not tiny!” Cam protests. “I’m almost as tall as Mom!”

“That’s not saying much.” Warren teases, earning a dinner roll to the head from Hannah.

“Not at the dinner table.” Grams clicks her tongue. “Perhaps you need a reminder of proper etiquette.”

Hannah blushes. “Sorry, Grams.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you, dear.” Grams fixes Warren with a stern look. “A gentleman never comments on a lady’s height. Or lack thereof.”

The table erupts in laughter at Warren’s chagrined expression. Even my father cracks a smile.

“Speaking of cars,” Christian says once the laughter dies down, “how’s that Chevelle coming along, Liam? Still fighting with the transmission?”

I launch into a description of the latest problem, gesturing with my fork as I explain the technical details. Most of the table’s eyes glaze over, but Cam listens with rapt attention.

“Can I see it sometime?” he asks eagerly. “Maybe help you work on it?”

My heart swells. “Of course. Anytime you want.”

“Really?” He bounces in his seat. “Mom, can I come over after school tomorrow? Please?”

Hannah hesitates, and I see the shadow of old fears cross her face. Even now, even here, Charlie’s ghost still lingers.

“I’ll pick him up after school myself.” I offer quietly. “Bring him straight to the shop. You can join us after work if you want.”

She takes a deep breath, visibly pushing back the anxiety. “Okay. But homework first, deal?”

“Deal!” Cam’s smile could power the whole town.

The conversation flows on, but I keep one eye on Hannah. She’s relaxed again, laughing at something Charlotte said, but I caught that moment of tension. The instinctive fear that still grips her when Cam is out of her sight.

I can’t blame her. Not after everything Charlie put them through. But God, I wish I could take that fear away. Wish I could guarantee their safety, their happiness, and their future.

All I can do is be here. Be steady. Show her day by day that love doesn’t have to hurt.

As if sensing my thoughts, she reaches under the table and squeezes my knee. The simple gesture sends warmth spreading through my chest.

The meal winds down slowly, plates being cleared and replaced with Grams’s famous apple pie. She made it in honor of Hannah since it was always her favorite. The conversation grows quieter, more intimate, as the food coma sets in.

Cam leans against my shoulder, eyes heavy despite his attempts to stay alert. It’s been a big day for him—all that running around, all those emotions.

Hannah notices too. “We should probably head home soon, buddy. It’s a school night.”

He starts to protest but is cut off by a massive yawn. The table chuckles.

“I’ll walk you,” I offer immediately.

She doesn’t object. We say our goodbyes, accepting hugs and leftovers from Grams. My brothers extract promises from Cam about future baseball games and car lessons.

The night air is cool when we step outside, crickets chirping in the darkness. Cam trudges ahead of us, barely awake enough to put one foot in front of the other.

I take Hannah’s hand and lace our fingers together. We walk slowly, taking our time to make the short distance to her front door.

“Thank you for today. For everything.” Hannah speaks softly.

“You don’t have to thank me.” I squeeze her hand and tug her a little closer until our arms are pressed together. “It was good having you here.”

She turns to look at me, moonlight silvering her profile. “I missed this. Your family.”

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