Page 110 of The Rules We Broke
I held my breath.
She blinked, clearly taken aback. But slowly, she placed her manicured hand in his.
It was a miracle in and of itself. I wished I could’ve taken a picture—just for documentation.
Once we were all seated—Brady on one side of me, Aunt Lu on the other—we looked around the table, quietly acknowledging the moment.
We were making history in Kaysville. And we all knew it.
Aunt Lu asked me to bless the food. I tried, but I got choked up as I thanked God for the people around me.
Funny enough, both Brady and Aunt Lu reached out and touched me gently as I stumbled through the prayer.
I had a habit of crying when I was happy. And I couldn’t have been happier than I was right then.
After the blessing, Caroline looked up at me, confused.
“Why are you crying?”
“I cry when I’m happy, sugar.”
She tilted her head. “That’s funny.”
Her momma tapped her nose. “Someday, you’ll understand.”
Caroline shrugged.
Once the food was passed and plates were filled, Brady turned to Aunt Lu.
“How are you feeling this evening, Luanne?”
“I’m happy to be home,” Aunt Lu said stiffly.
But it was a response. And in my book, that counted as progress.
I kept catching Benjamin throwing covert glances Brady’s way—he knew this was uphill territory. Still, tonight’s dinner was far and away better than the hellscape of the night before. This was how I imagined big family dinners—laughter overlapping, hands held beneath the table, stories traded like heirlooms.
And one of the best parts? Benjamin had rescued my cake from his parents’ house, giving me the chance to serve dessert—ahomemadedessert, no less, and one that tasted like heaven.
My aunt couldn’t believe I’d made it. She knew how deeply the kitchen-averse gene ran in our family.
Once everyone was delightfully stuffed, we moved to the music room. Brady had suggested I play. Everyone agreed—especially Aunt Lu. So, I went with it.
Benjamin, ever gallant, escorted my aunt again. I think Brady was a little jealous that his brother had such an easy rapport with her.
“Your time will come,” I whispered in his ear as we walked down the hall, feeling that after tonight, anything was possible.
“I hope so,” he whispered back.
Once we were all settled, I asked Caroline to pick her favorite Christmas song. She plopped down beside me on the piano bench. Brady sat near Aunt Lu. I could tell they were both a little stiff—but they were trying. And that meant everything.
Caroline chose “Jingle Bells.”
“Want to help me play it?” I asked.
“Yep!” she shouted.
I scooped her onto my lap and guided her tiny hand along the keys as we played the melody. We sang together, just the top line, hearts light and voices full.
