Page 16 of Sweet Redemption

My family always does this. It doesn’t matter if it’s Thanksgiving or the Fourth of July. They love to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for when we’re all together.

And at the rate my brothers and sisters are adding to the family, we’re going to need a bigger table before next summer. Every seat is full, and high chairs are squeezed in between.

Mom and Dad sit at either end, with Uncle Tommy next to Mom. Good twin and her husband are working on fielding their own hockey team with the way Gracie’s been popping out kids. Bad twin—not that Everly’s husband, Cross, lets us call her that anymore—is beside Gracie. My oldest brother, Nixon, is alone tonight because his wife is home with his sick kid. And the ultimate middle child, Leo, has his arm around Addie, while his girls fight beside him.

Then there’s Bodhi and me.

The perpetual baby of the family with my own baby.

In reality, he’s why I moved home. The main reason at least.

He deserves this. To be surrounded by a loving family. Not just a dad with a job that takes him away as much as hockey does once the season kicks in. And if it’s time to get my life back on track, being back in Kroydon Hills is only step one.

We’re Sinclairs. We fight hard and love harder.

And we drive each other batshit crazy, while we’re at it.

I raise my beer and grin. It’s fake as fuck, but no one realizes that.

For as up my ass as they’ve been this past year, they’ve been willing to accept whatever bullshit I’ve shoveled their way as gospel. Since Brittany died, it’s like no one wants to push for more. They’re happy to accept anything if it means I’m talking.

Fortunately, I’ve gotten good at faking it.

For everyone.

I run my hand over Bodhi’s blond curls and pray I made the right choice coming here. Coming home. He’s lost too much already.

“When I was drafted to Chicago, I thought it would be home . . .” Not a lie. I was disappointed at first. I’d dreamed of playing beside my family. Wearing the same jersey as my brothers and brothers-in-law. Winning the cup. Together. But life had other plans. Plans that kicked my ass more than once. “But it turns out, Chicago is where I worked, and yeah, it’s where we lived.” I look down at my son sucking down his second sippy cup of chocolate milk. Thanks, Mom. “It was where I needed to be, but it was never home. Not like Kroydon Hills⁠—”

Leo snorts. “Maybe he’s taken too many pucks to the head.”

“Shut up,” Everly and Gracie hiss in perfect harmony.

Gotta love protective big sisters.

“My point is . . .” I narrow a weak glare on my middle brother before lifting my bottle higher. “It isn’t Kroydon Hills.”

“Oh shit,” Nix snickers.

“Language,” Gracie warns.

“Let me finish before you disown me,” I warn, and hesitant laughter ripples softly around the table. Like they’re worried they shouldn’t laugh. Worried I’m not ready to laugh again.

“My point is it doesn’t matter if it’s Lincoln Park, Kroydon Hills, or the Jersey shore. It’s this. All of you.” I shrug and look at Mom and the tears filling her eyes. “This is home. It’s the people, not the place. It’s our family. It’s knowing that no matter what happens out there, the people in this room have my back. Even when I say I don’t need it. So yeah . . . I may not have been ready to come home until now, but you were always my home.”

Mom wipes the tears from her cheek as she pulls Bodhi out of his high chair and kisses his head. “We’re so happy you’re home, honey.”

“Aww,” Leo coos, breaking the heavy moment. “Honey.”

Nixon sips his beer, shaking his head. “Fucking idiot.”

Pretty sure that’s directed at Leo, not me.

“Fucking favorite is more like it,” Leo bitches.

He’s not wrong. I am the favorite.

“Suck it, asshole,” I mutter quietly.