Page 44 of Restored By You

I pinch my lips together, captivated by the moment for a list of reasons.

“A boy after my own heart.” She pats his cheek and turns back to the stove. “Parker, wash your hands, you’re filthy. Tyler, make sure he uses soap, please.”

Tyler nods. “Yeah, okay.” And he trots off after Parker toward the bathroom without a second thought.

I know it’s only been a few weeks, but…knowing how far he’s come, and how much he’s opened up, I have to look at the ceiling for a second to gather myself.

“He’s a sweet boy,” Julie says, squeezing my arm as she passes. “He’s lucky to have you.”

My throat tightens. Is he? Maybe, for once, I got something right.

I catch Rhett’s eye through the window over the sink. He’s mid-laugh at something his father said, but he finds me anyway, the way he always seems to. He winks, and my chest floods with a dangerous feeling.

One I’ve only felt once before…

“All right, everyone,” Clayton calls out. “Food’s on! Get in here before Levi licks all the good steaks.”

“One time!” Levi yells from somewhere.

And I can’t help but smile at the whole, chaotic lot of them.

Fifteen.

Rhett

There’s a specific kind of quiet that falls over this house. Not silence, god knows this family has never managed silence. The frantic passing of dishes slows. Plates go from full to wrecked. Somebody’s always still going back for thirds, and tonight it’s Levi, who’s on his third ribeye and shows no signs of a conscience over it.

I lean back in my chair with a beer and glance around the table. Ma’s at one end, Pop at the other, same as it’s always been. The babies are getting passed around and loved on. Parker’s under the table feeding both Cassidy’s and Callie’s dogs steak scraps—not that Frankie’s fat ass needs anymore food today. Tyler’s wedged between Callie and Lily, on his second plate, arguing with my sister about if Parker should be allowed to see the latest Marvel movie.

And Shea’s beside me. Her hand resting on my thigh under the table, and every so often her thumb moves, like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. She’s laughing at something Duke said, head tipped back, and I have to look away before somebody catches me watching her.

This is what I’ve been missing.

Not the dinner, the dinner’s always been here. Her, at this table. Someone of mine in the chair beside me. Thirty-two years old today and this is the first time I’ve brought a woman to this table. I don’t let myself do the math on how many Sundays are left before she’s gone.

“Haaaappy biiiirthday to youuuu…” Maci starts singing, carefully walking in the room with a three-tier layered chocolate cake Ma made from scratch. Butch hits the lights as everyone begins to sing around me. Shea quickly moves my plate, and the cake is placed in front of me with thirty-two candles flickering.

The whole table sings, off-key and too loud, Levi harmonizing badly on purpose just to make Lily wince, Pop’s booming bass under all of it, Parker screaming the words from under the table.

“Make a wish, birthday boy!” Ma hoots.

Here’s the thing about wishes, after a while you learn to just blow out the candles and let people clap, wish for nothing, want for nothing out loud, and move on like every other day. But tonight, I glance to my right.

Shea’s got her chin propped in her hand, watching me with those big brown eyes soft in the candlelight, a smile playing on her lips. A curl’s come loose against her cheek and she’s got no idea what the sight of her in this chair is doing to me.

Don’t leave. That’s the wish. Two words, so sure it startles me, rising up before I can talk myself out of it. Stay. Don’t leave and take all of this with you.

I lean in and blow out all thirty-two in one breath. The table erupts in cheers, somebody flicks the lights back on, and Shea claps with everyone else. And when she leans over to whisper happy birthday against my ear, I decide I don’t care if it’s foolish.

A man is allowed to want something on his birthday. Even if that something is a someone.

She may even be the one.

The thought follows me as Ma cuts the cake, Maci scoops ice cream, and dessert plates start making their way around the table. Chocolate on chocolate, because my mother has never once in her life believed in restraint when it comes to dessert.

“Uncle Rhett,” Parker says between mouthfuls of cake. “For Halloween I’m gonna be a ninja. A real one. With the sword and everything.”

“Nice, buddy.”