Page 101 of Dallas Rivals

We all wait as she thinks hard, tiny hands wrapped around her plastic cup.

“I’m thankful for my toys,” she declares proudly, raising her cup like the rest of us.

The table melts into laughter and soft smiles.

“Uncle,” Julian pipes up, his small voice curious and sweet, “was the turkey from the farm?”

“No, buddy,” I say. “Cala got it from a neighbor who raises them.”

Julian turns toward Cala, studying her like he’s trying to figure out who this woman sitting beside me really is.

Lauren steps in, smiling. “Julian’s been learning where food comes from. Though sometimes, he doesn’t exactly approve.”

“That’s because you turned him into a vegetarian,” Silas mutters, stuffing another bite of turkey into his mouth.

Lauren shoots him a mock glare, then looks at me with a helpless smile and a shrug.

“If you want,” Cala says gently, turning to Julian, “we can go see the cows later.”

“Yes!” Julian cheers, his whole face lighting up. “And the horses too!”

“Deal.”

“Wipe the drool off your mouth,” Killian calls out from the other end of the table, wearing that devilish grin of his.

“Shut up, Kill,” I shoot back.

Throughout the rest of dinner, everyone’s talking—including Eliza, who’s happily sharing my most embarrassing stories. Like the time a cow shoved me into a mud puddle. Or when I ended up in the ER getting two stitches after fixing the horse fence.

Every now and then, I glance sideways at Cala. She’s laughing—loudly—at one of Emma’s jokes, or deep in conversation about her lapis lazuli necklace.

Watching her blend in so easily with my family does something to my chest. It makes me think about what I want for my future—especially the part that might include her.

By the time dessert comes around, we’re all stuffed. The kids are half-asleep in the living room, glued to the TV, and the adults are too full to move.

“Eli, we’re officially adopting you as our mother,” Killian says, rubbing his stomach dramatically, pretending he has a belly when everyone knows he spends hours in the gym.

His comment hits deeper than he realizes.

Our parents were never really there for us, and even now that there are grandkids in the picture, they only show up when it’s convenient.

The fact that we’re celebrating this day without them says it all.

Eliza laughs, dabbing her mouth with a white linen napkin. “Delighted to have you all,” she says warmly.

Eliza’s story has always been a lonely one. She lost her husband young and never had children.

Years went by, and no one ever filled that empty space. She has an older sister in Austin who visits once in a while, but besides that—no family.

So seeing her smile like this, surrounded by mine, feels right.

“Dad, dad, dad, dad…”

Julian’s little voice comes from the couch in the living room, limbs sprawled everywhere.

Silas pauses mid-sentence, staring at his son.

“Julian, can’t you see I’m talking?”