by Emily Mayer
We all moved toward the sounds of laughter and conversation coming from the kitchen. Sunday night dinners were my favorite, and not just for the cooking. I loved it when we all got together. These people were a huge reason why I had fallen in love with Pinehaven in the first place. They were also the ones who had known I belonged here even before I did.
When I’d decided to take the Montana bar exam so I could practice law here if I wanted, they were the ones who tolerated my intense level of crazy. It was how I knew Jack was really, truly in love with me. If he could handle me at my bar-exam-studying worst, it had to be love. And they welcomed my family with open arms when they came to visit, which made me love them even more.
“Stay away from that pie!” I yelled at Gabe, who was hovering dangerously close to it. His hands shot up in a defensive pose.
“Have you been telling tales, Letty?” he said, feigning innocence. “You know I would never touch your baked goods, Evie. Who are you going to believe here, me or this rugrat?”
I hmmed, tapping my lips as if I was giving his question some thought. “I choose Letty.”
Letty jumped up and down in celebration. Gabe marched over to me and leaned down until his mouth was inches from my stomach.
“This is your Uncle Gabe speaking, Baby D. Your handsome, funny, and charming Uncle Gabe.”
I laughed. “What are you even doing?”
“I’m getting it right with this one. I’m starting in the womb,” he said, giving me the two-dimple treatment. “How long did you make it on King before the mother hen stopped you?”
“I snuck out of the office after I got the last contract finished up. I knew he wouldn’t be back for another twenty minutes, so I managed to get in a solid fifteen minutes.”
Gabe chuckled. “That’s about ten more minutes than I thought you’d get away with.”
Mary ushered us all to the table. I slid into my usual spot next to Jack, careful not to step on Hank Williams, who was waiting patiently for scraps. Jack’s hand found mine under the table, like it always did. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, leaning over to ask a question, low enough for only me to hear.
“Are you happy, wife?”
It was the same question he asked me every day, like he still couldn’t believe I was here with him in Montana instead of in a high-rise in Chicago. I gave him the same answer I always did.
“Very happy, husband. How could I not be?”
And I was happy. Sometimes it seemed like my heart was so full that my chest couldn’t possibly contain it. The day I walked out of Sterling for the last time was the day I became so much more than I could ever have planned on. I had become the office manager of Pinehaven, an aspiring horse rehabilitator, a rancher, a bull sperm contract expert, a dog owner, the sister I always should have been, the friend I always wanted to be, a wife, and now a mother. I wasn’t just one thing anymore. I was an everything girl.
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