Page 123 of Bailey

Someone—probably Georgia, as she threw plenty of parties at her bookshop—had blown up dozens of balloons and tied them to the backs of the stools at the chest-high tables a layer up from the bowling alley.

“Howdy, Jerry,” Wade said, and Jerry grinned at the man. His youngest son, Wyatt, had been born in October, and the boy already wore one of the traditional crowns that Cecily brought for all the birthday boys and girls, no matter their age.

“Are you going to get a strike?” Jerry asked the boy, and Wyatt grinned at him.

“I hope so,” he said, as he already carried a lime-green ball toward the ball return shelf on lane one. Wade moved around pretty well since getting his new prosthetics about a year ago, and Jerry sure did like the man.

He and his wife had been so good to Tex and Abby—and everyone else in the Young family—and Jerry loved anyone who could handle his loud, boisterous boys and genuinely call them friends.

He wasn’t surprised to see Melissa coming toward him with a dark red ball. “Gramps,” she said. “Did you want me to get you a ball?”

“No, little miss,” he said, his back starting to hurt. “I’m not going to bowl today. I’m just here for the cake.”

Her face lit up, and she hurried to put her bowling ball next to Wyatt’s. “I can get you one of those.”

“Mel,” Tex said at Jerry’s shoulder. “Gramps is sitting on lane seven. If you want to bring him a treat, it’ll need to go there.” He nodded further into the alley. “See where Joey and Momma are?”

Mel turned and looked, and Jerry figured he could keep shuffling along. “Okay,” she said, and Jerry noticed she wore a hint of light brown blitz on her eyelids today. Jerry could only imagine what that situation looked like with her and Abby—and probably Tex too—and he thanked the Good Lord Above that he’d only had boys.

Blaze and his family had taken lane two, as evidenced by Faith carrying Harmony on her hip and trying to get Ty into a chair by lifting him with one arm.

“Tex,” Jerry said, and his son hurried forward to help.

“Thanks,” Faith said, and then she crouched down in front of her five-year-old. “You will not leave this chair, or there will be no grilled cheese sandwich for you, no cupcakes, and Daddy will not help you roll the ball down the lane.” She bent her head closer. “Do you hear me, Ty?”

“Yes, Momma.” The boy sniffled, and he looked at Jerry, a clear plea for help in the alligator tears clinging to his eyelids. “Grampy.” He reached toward him, and Jerry decided on the spot that he needed a break.

“I’ll sit with him,” he said. “I need to catch my breath.”

Faith looked at him, her displeasure with her son changing to concern instantly. “Are you okay?”

Jerry tried to tell her he was fine with only his eyes, and she seemed to get the hint. She stood and wiped her fingers through Ty’s hair. “Boys who scream at their cousins don’t get cupcakes.”

That was Faith-speak for, Fine, be nice to him, but he deserves to be punished a little bit.

“Daddy, I’m gonna go make sure Bailey and Reeves get to their lane.”

Jerry lifted his hand in a wave of acquiescence for Tex, and his son left him there with a still-sniffling Ty. He heard his son’s voices, their wives, the children laughing and moving back and forth as they looked for their bowling balls.

The scent of hot oil met his nose, and Jerry would love some French fries. Maybe Cecily would be distracted enough by the ninety-plus people here, and he could get Trace to sneak him some fries with a lot of bacon and a lot of cheese.

Yes, he’d been battling health problems for a couple of years, but the doctors had never told him he couldn’t have bacon cheese fries. That was just his wife.

“I sit with you, Grampy.” Ty looked at him with the biggest, widest, most mournful eyes.

“Sure thing, little buddy.” Jerry reached for the boy and lifted him into his lap—something else Cecily would get after him about. “Tell Grampy why you’re screamin’ at your cousins.”

“I just so essited about the cupcakes, and Avy tooked mine.”

Avery—Trace and Ev’s youngest. And yes, Ty loved cupcakes. Jerry smiled down at the giant pins painted on the wall at the end of the lane, seeing the piping that would come to life when the lights turned out and the neon got lit.

“There’s so many cupcakes, my friend,” Jerry said. “I’m sure your momma would’ve gotten you another one.”

Ty wiped his face and cuddled into Jerry’s chest. “I sorry, Grampy.”

Jerry cradled the boy tightly in his arms, his heart soft and full of love for this child. He saw so much of Blaze in him, as Blaze had lived life on the edge from the day he’d been born. He’d had to learn to apologize early and often, and Ty sure seemed to be the same way.

“I know you are, bud.” Jerry pressed a kiss to his grandson’s head. “You tell your momma when she comes back, and then you’ll have to tell Avery too.”