Page 109 of We Drank the Dawn

During dinner on Wednesday night, I barely listened to the conversation as I ate the beef stroganoff Hollie made. I sat beside Wren’s highchair and had the pleasure of picking up her fork a dozen times. I made the mistake of handing it back to her the first time she threw it. Now she thought we were playing fetch.

My ears were trained on that fork, gauging how far away it landed every time the metal hit the wooden planks below our feet. Thankfully, it never took me more than a couple seconds to locate it. Sometimes I was able to estimate distance and grab it on the first try. Each time, I tried to do it faster. Honestly, it felt like a game to me, too.

When everyone was mostly finished, someone gently tapped me on the shoulder.

I sat up, fork in hand. Dropping it in front of Wren, I said, “Yep?”

“Hey, Uncle Peter, it’s Cade.”

I smiled at the fact that he gave himself an introduction even though I would’ve known who he was from his voice. He was incredibly soft spoken and reserved, especially in comparison to his father who was a social butterfly. “Oh hey, Cade.”

“Mom and I are having a hard time with this math homework. I can’t figure it out, and I’ve been stuck on it for a few days. Can you help me?”

My brows raised. “Sure. I’d be happy to. Want to sit down after dinner?”

“That’d be great. Thank you.”

When the dish bin arrived and Hollie started clearing the table, she pressed her hands into my shoulders and said, “Thank you, Peter. This math is killing me.”

I chuckled. “Never been your strong suit, huh?”

That made her laugh. “Definitely not. I’m learning right along with him. We’ll go to the porch swing.”

“Yep. Sounds good.”

“Give me ten minutes, and we’ll head that way.”

Hollie and I had a good conversation, similar to the one I had with Bea. She gave me the tightest hug and promised there was no animosity between us and all she wanted was the best for Sarah and me. Reconciling with my sisters made the burden on my shoulders easier to carry.

When the clean up was finished, Cade flopped his math book on the wicker table and Hollie sat down beside me on the porch swing. For reasons I couldn’t pinpoint, my chest had loosened since dinner. Being needed hit my soul like an oasis in the desert. Around the ranch, my presence hindered more than helped and everyone just put up with me. But math was my expertise. And knowing I could help my nephew put a small smile on my face. “So what are you learning?”

“Y = mx + b.” I heard the complaint in his tone—he hated this.

“Ah, slope-intercept. That is tough.”

“I don’t know why I can’t get it.”

“You will eventually. Some concepts just take a little longer to digest.” Cade read the instructions aloud then I said, “Alright, start with the y-intercept then tell me where the next point lands.”

As we did practice problems together, the process started to sink in. When Cade got one correct all by himself, he gave a small whoop of excitement.

“Good job, Cade,” Hollie said.

Footsteps, a mix of light and heavy, approached from the other side of the porch. Jesse’s voice called out. “Does that mean you got it, buddy?”

“I think so!” Cade’s excitement bubbled in his words.

Jesse eased down onto the wicker bench nearby, shushing Nora and Izzy who were nonstop chattering. “Hang on girls. We gotta be quiet until Cade finishes up.”

Nora whispered, “Daddy, can we have ice cream?”

“We’ll see.”

The porch swing bucked under me as Hollie quickly stood and moved to the bench where Jesse sat, giving a soft sigh of contentment. She whispered, “I missed you” as if their normal duties had kept them apart too long, and her words were followed by a very soft, brief kissing sound.

Because I couldn’t see her, it was easy to forget that Hollie was pregnant.

Anytime she hugged me, I remembered.