“Hold on,” Fancy raised a silencing finger. “I’m trying to imagine you with a personality.”
Dial smirked. “Oh, is this the part of the night where we air out our grievances?”
“No, that usually comes after dinner,” I corrected her.
“Can’t wait.” Dial turned on her heels and exited the room.
“Oh, she’s big mad,” I whispered to Fancy.
“Maybe this was a mistake.”
“No, forget Dial. In this family dinners are always awkward. Someone is always mad at someone.” I kissed her hand.
“I kind of feel like an outsider.”
“Well, according to Maple we’re kissing cousins.” I tried to lighten the mood, and it worked. Fancy laughed and the death grip she had on my arm loosened.
“Fancy?” my mother called from the kitchen archway.
“Yes, ma’am.” Her back was pin straight.
“Are you okay with eating on the back porch? It’s a pleasant night but I know not everyone enjoys alfresco dining. Especially in Tennessee where the insects are as big as golf balls.”
“I don’t mind. Shoot I’d sit on the lawn if it meant getting to enjoy your home cooking.”
“Alright, well dinner’s ready.”
My parents made some of my favorites, steak, au gratin potatoes, and Brussel sprouts with bacon and a honey drizzle. I would miss their home cooking if and when they actually moved away. If I was being honest, I didn’t really believe it would happen. We’d lived in Hume forever. Our family helped found this town. My parents were members of the Hume City Council. The Birch name and Hume were practically synonymous.
It also didn’t sit right with me them selling our family home. Almost every good memory I owned was connected to this house. Cyrus and Ozzie would have sleepovers as kids and sometimes they’d actually let me hang out with them. I’d listen to them talk and try emulating their style and swagger. We’d play hide and seek all over this property and when my mom wanted us to come home, she’d ring a huge bell that hung from the porch roof. She called it the kid wrangler because no matter where you were, you could hear echoes of the bell.
“I imagine it’s been nice to take a break from work. You and Darla seem to be all over TV performing and collecting awards,” my father said.
“Yes, it was unplanned, but it’s been nice to slow down for a bit.”
“Oh no. I hope everything is good with Whiskey Wild.” Dial feigned concern.
“Uhm. Just going through a bit of a transition and I’m working with my lawyers about the future of the group.”
“Are you two having trouble?” My mother’s question was a mixture of genuine worry and her nosy nature.
“Just a difference of opinion. But nothing our lawyers can’t work through.”
“I remember you and Darla performing at all those fairs. I knew then you were going to be a star. Your mom can attest, I told her years ago you were special.”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
My dad added his thoughts, “It’s hard work. And not everyone is willing to put in the time and energy. Whiskey Wild worked hard, and you’ve created a career for yourself and that’s something to be proud of.”
“I appreciate that.”
My mother loved it when we brought our partners over. It gave her a chance to put on her detective hat and ask probing questions. “I heard you’re going on tour.”
“Yes, ma’am we are.”
“How exciting,” Dial chimed in.
My mother took a sip of her spiked iced tea. “Maybe we’ll grab tickets to the Nashville show.”
