Page 41 of Yours, Now and Always
Olivia walks in from the side door as he says this, looking like she’s coming off a legal victory. She had to come later than Callan due to work keeping her back. Her laptop bag is slung over one shoulder, her sunglasses are still pushed up in her hair,and she has that look on her face that says she just finished emailing someone into submission.
“Okay, who did the lunch table outside?” she asks before even getting fully inside. “Because it looks like a magazine shoot out there and I need to know who to book for the next dinner party I host.”
Marin lights up immediately. “Me and Maddie.”
Madeline shakes her head while looking at Marin with awe. “It’s all Marin. I just did what she told me to. Marin made those gorgeous flower bundles all by herself. Like, she literally just found foliage and flowers from the garden and threw them together with some twine. Then she gathered candles and mismatched brass holders and vintage glass bud vases and just, like, scattered everything over the table without even having to think about it. And createdthat.” She grins. “She’s terrifyingly good at decorating.”
Olivia grins too and sets her bag on the table. “Good. I love terrifying women.”
I look around the room.
At Tim, dramatically monologuing about olive oil to Ethan and Colin.
At Liv and Maddie laughing while Marin rewrites the laws of centerpiece physics.
At Kristen teasing Bradford and Callan while Callan reaches for his wife.
At Hayden, quietly checking emails like he always is, saying nothing, just happy to be with us, steady and easy.
At my husband, who is single-handedly managing an entire Sinclair-Black lunch with one hand on a serving platter and the other on my heart.
This kitchen—this family—feels like a living, breathing thing.
Not just held together by blood or marriage, but by choice.
And somehow, I’m a part of it.
Somehow, this is my life now.
“Hey,” Hayden says quietly beside me.
I turn and find him watching me. Gentle and present. Like he’s listening before I’ve even spoken.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. Too quickly. Too automatically.
He doesn’t push. Just watches and waits for me to find my words.
I exhale. “This is a lot. In the very best way.”
And it is.
It’s loud and warm and kind of dizzying.
My chest feels full. Like if I tried to speak too fast, I might cry for no reason other than the fact every person in this room feels like home in a different way.
And maybe that’s what’s making me feel all these big feelings. That everyone here has brought me in fully, lovingly, and without asking anything from me but to be exactly who I am.
This is all real. Chaotic, yes. But it’s mine. And I don’t always know how to hold that without breaking a little on the inside.
He nods once. “Good.” That’s all he says, but it carries more than most people manage in a whole speech. His way of caring is quiet, but loud in all the ways that matter.
“Alright,” Gage says. “Let’s get the food outside before Tim eats all of it.”
People start moving. Plates get lifted. Wine bottles passed down. Tim grabs his espresso brownies he brought. And then, everyone’s heading outside, laughing and talking. The screen door’s swinging shut behind Tim’s dramatic exit. And Gage and I are the only ones left.
I look at him. The calm in my storm. The one thing that’s always holding.
