Page 67 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I kiss the crown of her head and release her from our hug, instantly hollow without her.

“Serve up,” Reid hollers

We sit around his small farmhouse table and as a blended family—Andersen, Tate, and now Hayes—to enjoy sticky sweet ribs, extra dill pickle macaroni salad, and smoky baked beans.

This is the first in a long time I’ve seen her eat so much, and so casually. She cleans two ribs to the bone, spears every last baked bean with the tines of her fork, has seconds of macaroni salad, and cleans her fingers with her tongue.

I stare at her tongue swirling around her delicate fingers for so long Reid catches me and clears his throat.

You’d think James would be the fifth wheel, with Reid and Izzy paired off, and Delilah and I being whatever we are. But instead, I’m the fifth wheel aside the two brothers and Irish twin sisters.

I know how much pain the Andersens have endured losing Sam, and how badly the Tate twins were treated by their parents. It’s not a competition, and irrational to compare, but I can’t help grieving the relationship I used to have with Quincy and my parents.

As soon as we started losing my dad to Alzheimer’s, we lost our mom along with him, because she devoted herself to his care and we got left behind.

I still had Quincy, even though she was married and living hours away with Sam. After Sam’s death, it’s like my sister died too.

Despite the bone deep sorrow over what I’ve lost, I’m grateful for my found family. All I’ve ever wanted is to build a family with Delilah—to give her everything she dreams of—the house, the kids, the nights rocking on the porch. But I remind myself this is enough.

It has to be.

Her small hand squeezes my thigh, and whispers, “You okay?”

“Yea, doll. I’m right where I want to be.”

“James, oh my god!” Livy scolds playfully.

The idiot’s been tossing tiny balls of smashed bread at her for the past five minutes. He’s acting like a middle school boy with his first crush.

“Pull her pigtails, they really like that,” Izzy says.

“That’s what she said,” Delilah pipes in.

I love her so happy and carefree.

We’ve gathered for this not-a-triple-date at The Flying Pig. It’s such a joke. Anyone with eyes can see something’s going on between James and Olivia—they’re shit at hiding it. And Delilah and I are what we’ve always been—not just friends, but nothing more.

It’s late, so instead of ordering six entrees, we opted to load the table with dishes to share. I’m picking at the last bits of hatch green chili nachos. Delilah and Izzy thumb wrestle over who gets the last soft pretzel bite, and Reid nearly stabs the back of James’s hand with his fork when he reaches for the last jalapeño popper.

I raise my hand and snag Frank’s eye to get a refill of my cola and Delilah’s lemonade.

“Everything sounds perfect, Izzy. The wedding’s going to be out of a storybook.” Livy claps her hands together, bouncing in her seat.

“I hope so, but even if it isn’t, it’ll be perfect to me and Reid. As long as we’re married at the end of the day, that’s all that matters,” Izzy says, mooning at Reid.

I’m a prick for being jealous, but all I’ve ever wanted is for Delilah to see me that way—to want to marry me.

She shines her light on each person at the table, none of them realizing how lucky they are to bask in her glow.

The fact she’s been eating better than ever has added color and fullness to her cheeks. I’ve loved her at every stage of life, every awkward phase, at her best and at her worst—but I love to see her thriving.

This fall has been transformative for her in more ways than one. Her internship has given her purpose and direction. Delilah’s drive is inspiring, and she’s going to help countless people with her equine therapy education.

Being out from under Ivy’s influence has made her self-confidence soar and damnit if that isn’t attractive as hell.

The screech of Delilah’s chair being shoved back startles me; before I can ask what’s wrong, she’s up from the table and rushing off to the restroom.

I was lost in my head and wasn’t paying attention to what was being discussed.