Page 71 of Firefly Embers

“Unca Wade, bad word,” Charlie scolded from her spot on the floor, her tiny finger waggling in my direction. Everyone chuckled, breaking the tension.

“Give the girl two fucking dollars, Max,” I said through a laugh. “Unca Wade doesn’t have any dollar bills, and you’ve got enough to fund the rent at a stri⁠—”

Ray’s hand slapped across my mouth as her eyes widened, threatening me silently if I continued that sentence. I licked her palm, and she squealed, pulling her hand back and wiping it on her shorts.

“Gross!” she exclaimed, laughing as she feigned disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it when my tongue⁠—”

“And on that note! It’s time for cake,” she said quickly, standing from my lap and scooting over to sit on the floor and pull Charlie into her arms, effectively shutting me up.

Stella retreated to the kitchen, grabbing the small grocery store cake she had haphazardly put three candles in. It wasn’t lost on me that this was the first birthday we had truly been able to experience together, and the weight that the day we all shared would stick around as time went on.

“I’ve got a suggestion,” I said out of the blue. Every pair of eyes was trained on me as Stella stood poised over the candles, a long lighter in her hand. “How about we celebrate the three of us on this day, every year? There’s so much negativity around our actual birthday; how about we create a new holiday? One that’s filled with family and happiness.”

“WadCharMass!” Charlie screeched, squishing all of our names together like a Frankenstein version of Christmas. “Our day. Three a-mee-goo-s.” She said the last word slowly, enunciating each syllable as if she were piecing it together in her mind.

Ray beamed with pride behind her as she butchered her way through the Spanish.

“Amigos, pequeño,” Ray corrected. I watched as Charlie tried to emulate the way Ray pronounced the word with practiced ease, and her brow scrunched in frustration.

“Don’t worry, little one. You’ll get it,” Max encouraged from his spot on the couch. Charlie rolled the word around on her tongue, trying to say it right. She was determined, and that little furrow between her brow was the spitting image of Stella when she was frustrated.

Charlie stood from Ray’s lap, having given up on the mental Spanish lesson, and walked over to where I was sitting. She climbed up onto my lap, settling herself facing me on one of my legs as she looked me directly in the eye, a serious expression marring her features.

“Unca Wade,” she said as if she were about to give me the fiercest lecture I’d ever heard.

“Yes, little one?” I prompted.

“You train horseys, right?”

“Yes…” I said hesitantly, confused as to where her line of questioning was coming from. She placed both of her tiny hands on my cheeks, pulling my attention directly to her.

“I need you train Bubbles Flower Pancake.”

“Um…Okay. What is a Bubbles Flower Pancake?” I asked, confused as I looked around the room. Pops sat in his armchair, chuckling while Max threw himself back on the sofa in exasperation. Stella and Ray both hid their laughter behind their hands.

“Pops got me horsey!” she screeched, and my eyes widened as I looked over to my dad, who just shrugged his shoulders as if he hadn’t just spent a giant hunk of change on a horse for a two-year-old.

“Welcome to the shitshow,” Max groaned from across the room.

“MASS DA. BAD WORD,” Charlie screeched. She held out her hand for another dollar, clearly frustrated at his lack of effort to quell his potty mouth‌.

There wasn’t any place I’d rather be, shitshow or not. This was my family, my life, and my future all sitting here in this living room, and I couldn’t have been happier.

WADE

The awkward moment when you’re sitting across the dining room table from the town sheriff, a man you admire greatly, the man who also saved your life, insinuating you’ve been fucking his daughter, was a situation I would have greatly loved to have avoided.

I had been home for almost two weeks, and acclimating back to everyday living had been a challenge.

Most of my trainees had been fine with Sterling taking over their sessions, but for some reason, Izzy had thrown the world’s biggest hissy fit. Even Ray had mentioned how out of character it was for Izzy to be so defiant, especially when it came to her rodeo prep.

She was slated to race in the NFR in Vegas in a little over a month, so every moment was pivotal in her training.

Two weeks of playing catch-up while battling the stresses of ranch life made things beyond exhausting. I’d fallen into bed each night, wrapped in Ray’s embrace as I drifted off into a nightmare-free slumber.

Neither ‌of us wanted to be apart for long, so she’d all but officially moved into the big house with me until construction on our place was finished.