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“Uh…sure.”
As she grins with excitement, I feel my mouth pulling into a smirk.
For the rest of the meal, we don’t bother with stressful, tense topics of conversation. Instead, Abby talks about how excited she is for school to start back up—to which Briar replies how excited she is as well.
It’s all so comfortable and pleasant andnormal. It reminds me of being a kid and sitting on the couch with my dad while eating dinner together. Sometimes, we’d go on the patio if the weather was nice and talk about nothing and everything all at once.
It’s family, and nothing in the world can compare to that.
By the time we’re cleaning up the table, I don’t feel like an interloper or an outsider. I feel like I belong here.
I do belong here.
“You know what?” Briar says while drying a plate. “I don’t know why, but I feel like we need a cake.”
“A cake?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Yeah. We’ve had a rough few days and I just think we need to celebrate all being here together. It’s a beautiful day. Why not have dessert?”
Caleb wraps his arm around Briar’s shoulders. “I think that’s a perfect idea. I’ll run to the store.”
“I’ll come with you,” she adds. “If Dean doesn’t mind staying here with Abby.”
Making a puzzled expression, I stare down at Abby as she hangs on my arm with glee. “I guess.”
“Yay!” she squeals.
After the kitchen is clean, Briar and Caleb leave and I turn toward the bouncy six-year-old dancing around the kitchen.
“All right. Show me this bike of yours.”
Abby hops excitedly as she takes my hand and drags me to the garage. When I hit the button to open it and see the pink-and-white bicycle in the corner with a little white basket and pink tassels on the handlebars, I glance down at her with concern.
“What is that?”
“That’s my bike,” she replies with a giggle as she drags it out of the garage.
“It has training wheels!” I say, pointing to the two extra wheels attached to the back.
Looking down, she hides her embarrassment. “I’m not good at riding without them yet.”
I let out a breath as a feeling of shame washes over me. I can’t be such a jerk to her all the time.
Kneeling down beside her, I lift her chin so she looks into my eyes. “I can help you ride without them if you want. I bet you’re better than you think.”
Her tiny lips purse together as she frowns at me. “But I don’t like falling down.”
“I’ll catch you. You won’t fall down.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I reply. “Go get your helmet on, and I’ll take these off.”
A minute later, I have Abby on her bike out front. She’s scared at first. I can tell by the way she shakes and timidly hits the brakes every time the bike starts wobbling.
“Don’t stop,” I say, looking her in the eye. “You’ve got this, Abby. Just keep going.”
“Okay,” she replies with a quiver in her voice.
