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Cal choked mid-sip. Hot chocolate sprayed across the table like a geyser, startling everyone around him. Michael thumped his back uselessly, yelling something about “dammit Jim I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker,” while Cal coughed and stared at her, wide-eyed and completely wrecked.
Sage looked away with a pleased little smile she didn’t even try to hide, warm satisfaction curling deep in her chest.
Annie looked deliriously happy on the dance floor with her kids.
She was holding Ethan’s hands and spinning him with more enthusiasm than technique, little Lily perched on her hip, all three of them laughing. The kids’ faces were streaked with chocolate and lit up with that pure, wild joy only children up past bedtime can manage.
Annie’s face was open and free in a way Sage had come to cherish, the version of her best friend that appeared when the exhaustion finally fell away and left just the bright, loving woman underneath. Nearby, Tommy swayed happily to the music on his own, not needing a partner, perfectly content just to be in the warmth with the people he loved. Brittany held his hand gently, smiling at him.
Annie caught Sage watching and beamed, waving. Little Lily blew her a kiss while Ethan made an exaggerated gagging sound. Sage laughed, waving back.
She watched them and felt a deep, almost frightening ache bloom in her chest.
This… this is my family. All of them.
At the far end of the pavilion, Bear and Michael had claimed two chairs slightly apart from the crowd. Michael nursed an apple juice while Cal sipped his inevitable hot chocolate. They were talking in that low, comfortable way of men who had been best friends for years.
Sage caught the exact moment Michael said something that made Cal throw his head back and laugh. Her heart did that familiar flip again. She bit her lip.
If I don’t get him alone soon, I’m going to explode.
Bobby Callahan Sr. appeared at her elbow.
“Pardon me, young lady,” he said, his voice carrying the quiet courtesy of an old cowboy who considered manners non-negotiable. “I wonder if you might do an old man the honor.”
He held out his hand.
Sage looked at it, then up at his weathered face and steady, kind eyes.
“I’d love to,” she said, smiling as she took it.
He danced with her slowly and formally — one hand at her waist, the other holding hers at the proper height — the posture of a man who had learned to dance a certain way long ago and saw no reason to change. Sage matched his steps easily.
“Fine party,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah,” she agreed softly.
“Cal does things right when he decides to do them.” Bobby paused. “Took him long enough to do this one.”
Sage smiled. “Did it?”
Bobby looked at her, his expression thoughtful, the kind of man who chose his words like he chose his tools. “Darling… that boy’s been carrying a lot of weight for a long time,” he said quietly. “Seeing him tonight…” He nodded toward where Cal sat. “He looks different.”
“Different how?”
The old man met her eyes. “Like something got put down. Something that needed to be put down for a while now.”
Sage felt her eyes grow warm.
“Don’t you start,” Bobby told her, a hint of gruff affection in his voice. “I’ll never hear the end of it from my Margaret if I made you cry.”
Sage laughed, wet-eyed, and kept dancing with him.
She heard it before she fully understood what it was.
A low, massive, unmistakable sound from just outside the pavilion.
Oh no…
