Page 67 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“I like her too,” Eric chimed, raising his fork. “Anyone who can make Dad smile like that deserves an automatic seat at this table.”
“As long as she can handle the volume,” Asher added, gesturing around. “We’re not exactly quiet.”
Sandy smiled, unfazed. “I grew up with three brothers. Trust me, this is familiar territory.”
“Perfect,” Becket said with mock solemnity. “You’ll survive.”
Pierre cleared his throat, trying to shift the spotlight. “That’s enough.” But I caught the way his hand covered Sandy’s under the table, thumb brushing over her knuckles.
Across the chatter, Pierre’s voice cut in again, softer this time. “Isabelle and Luc called earlier. They send their love. They wish they could be here tonight, and they wished Braden a big happy birthday.”
A little pang hit me at the mention of them. I missed Isabelle’s easy smile, and Luc’s calm presence too, but the United States had a different day to celebrate Thanksgiving so they weren’t off school and had commitments for the holiday.
“They’ll be back for winter break,” Angela reassured. “We’ll make it up to them.”
“Save them pie,” Eric said.
“And noise,” Asher added.
“And questions,” Becket deadpanned, which made Phoenix laugh for the first time that evening, low and rich.
Braden stirred against my shoulder, and I pressed a kiss to his soft hair. For a moment, I just let myself absorb it all in: the warmth, the laughter, the stories, the way even newcomers likeSandy and I were folded in as if there had always been a place waiting.
It was messy. It was loud. It was alive.
And it was the first time in years I’d felt like I was sitting in the middle of a family.
Eric passed rolls around like he was auditioning for sainthood, insisting everyone take two because “They’re better than Asher’s jokes.”
“Anything is better,” Becket deadpanned, which set the whole table laughing.
Asher clutched his chest. “Why am I always the punching bag?”
“Because you set yourself up for it,” Phoenix muttered, sipping his wine.
I laughed, and the sound startled me. It had been so long since laughter came this easy. Phoenix brushed his knee against mine under the table, and Braden was busy banging his spoon, Eric pretended to duck for cover while making silly faces at my son, who was eating up the attention. Sandy leaned in to tell me about her flower shop and how the whole town of Val-Du-Lys went crazy for her harvest bouquets, and just for a moment, I let myself believe I belonged too with this amazing family. I had grown up with them, but I always kept my distance. Where Luc practically lived here, I was older and withdrawn. I was about to start a self-loathing rant in my head about how it was another way I screwed up, when I decided to change the dialogue. To give myself grace. After all, it was Thanksgiving, and I had so much to be thankful for.
“Elyna,” Angela said suddenly, her tone bright, “Do you like to cook?”
The table went quiet for half a beat before everyone broke into laughter again.
“I can manage,” I said, cheeks warm. “But no one cooks like this.”
“She makes a mean pasta,” Phoenix said, his voice quiet but sure, like he wanted them all to know.
Asher groaned loudly, “Pasta? That’s the hill you’re dying on. Come on, brother, at least lie for her.”
“It’s good pasta,” Phoenix shot back, unruffled.
And that made everyone laugh harder.
Dessert was Eric’s pumpkin pie, so rich and spiced that I nearly groaned at the first bite. He also surprised us by preparing a three-layer chocolate cake for Braden and another single cake that was made of hard chocolate. The whole table sang “Happy Birthday” to Braden and my boy was smitten. Eric gave Braden a wooden hammer and Braden smashed the hard chocolate to pieces as everyone cheered. Phoenix took pictures with his phone, and then Eric grabbed the phone and told Phoenix to get into the pictures with Braden and me. Then we all enjoyed the three-layer chocolate cake. Braden was covered in chocolate and I swept him off to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
“This was the best birthday ever and it’s just your first. I hope they just keep getting better for you,” I whispered as I wiped down his hands and face and changed him into pajamas and a new diaper. When I brought him back to the table, he put his head on my shoulder and he was out like a light since he wasn’t used to being up this late. I placed him flat in the stroller with a blanket covering him.
Pierre lifted his glass. “To family,” he said. “And to finding joy, even when the world outside feels heavy.” Something in his words hit me in the center of my chest. The world was a scary place. I knew that better than anyone, but in this moment I felt true happiness.
Everyone lifted their glasses. Phoenix’s hand found mine under the table, his grip firm, grounding.
