Page 143 of Then You Happened
“Who’s hungry?” I ask about the fray and get a raucous response in return.
“Alcohol. If we’re going to eat your cooking, dear, we need alcohol first,” Fi says before enveloping me in the biggest hug. “God, it’s good to see you,” she says into my ear. “And just wait till I tell you about the guy who got my number on the flight.”
JACK
CHATTER FILLS THE HOUSE.
Laughter rings out more often than not, dotted with a few shouts of, “That’s not fairs” from Rein over something Tack did to annoy her. They’re so much like Lauren and I were together as kids it’s scary.
Plates are empty or getting close to it. Glasses of wine have been refilled more times than not.
Tate’s at my side, chatting away. Her curves are softer now, her smile wider, and the caution that used to own her eyes has been gone for years.
Everything has changed about her, gotten better with age but one thing hasn’t.
Her wild.
That’s something I never want to change.
She looks my way and offers a soft smile before going back to talking with Evan, our retired ranch manager here in Montana.
I just sit back and watch everyone.
We started with two ranches: one thriving and one dying.
We started out as two individuals: one who couldn’t trust and one who was a little lost.
We started with nothing and ended up creating everything. This life we’ve surrounded ourselves with people we want to live with is worth more than any balance in any account.
Our new college graduate, Will, who moved here to be with us and help run things in Montana.
Our resident flirt and all-around center of attention, Fiona, who may have married and divorced again.
Our newest addition, Ashley, runs the photography retreat we set up last year in the newly renovated Knox Ranch. There are still horses being bred and the Steely contract is still solid, but behind what used to be the main house, we built cabins to facilitate the new retreat.
Nothing like saying fuck you to the town of Lone Star by building the one thing they judged Tate for.
Old man Evan, who is now retired from the Next Time ranch, sits at the other end and remains as quiet as can be with a ghost of a smile on his face.
My eyes meet Tate’s as I slide my hand out to take hers beneath the table. I know this means the world to her too. The family we created and the love that we’ve fostered.
I catch Will getting flustered when Ashley starts talking to him, and the quick smile Tate wears tells me she sees it too.
We were there once. Falling in love and too stubborn to acknowledge it.
But damn it was fun.
So much has changed. So much is different.
And I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
“Who’s ready for the card exchange?” I ask, garnering a high-pitched cheer from the family room where Rein is off pretending she’s a famous YouTuber.
“That’s my job!” she says and runs into the dining room with a stack of cards in her hand.
“You know the rules,” Tate says. “Each card was filled out by a member of the family. Each one says what that person was thankful for. And you have to guess who wrote it.”
Rein is already halfway through placing cards in front of people when she yells, “Is there a prize for guessing?”
