Chapter Thirty-Two
Coveted Lightspeed Family Text Thread
Cheyenne
Eleven days ago, my dad whispered my name for the first time in seven months. It’s only two syllables, the same two syllables he nicknamed me long ago, but it set into motion a notable chain of events.
Dad was spared from permanent brain damage, but being comatose for so long comes with side effects. Namely, loss of muscle strength and memory loss surrounding the accident, and doctors said it could take weeks or months for him to fully recover.
They didn’t, however, consider the Kolter determination.
Dad is coming home. He still has physical therapy three times a week, but if he’s going to heal, he’ll do so at home (his words, not mine). The first thing he wanted to do upon his release back into humanity (again, his words)?
Family supper at the lake house.
Hours from now, my family is coming over for the first time this summer. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I cleaned yesterday until Colton threatened to withhold physical affection if I vacuumed one more time, so I’m channeling my nerves into making everything memorable instead. Pretty plates aren’t enough tonight; I want everything to be enchanting , the epitome of a celebratory summer evening.
Our first stop? Lilah’s Flower Shoppe.
Indi opens the door, but Milo insists on holding it like he’s watched Colton do. I press a palm to the hot glass so he won’t smash any fingers. There’s no mistaking the impact Colton’s attention has made over the last few months; for the first time in Milo’s young life, he’s had a positive male role model, and it shows.
“Well, this is a surprise.” Hazel straightens behind the counter with a flower shear in hand. “A very, very welcome one, of course.” She shifts her attention to Milo. “Do you know what gentlemen get when they come into my shop, young man?”
Milo shakes his head.
Hazel reaches for something, and with a flourish of her hand, she reveals a Tootsie Pop. Milo gasps and holds out his hands, but she shakes her head with a soft laugh.
“There’s one little magic word…” she says, lifting her brows patiently. She winks at Indi and I, elbows resting on the counter, dark curls pushed away from her face with a floral hair scarf. “Any idea what that word might be?”
Milo grins widely and clasps his hands under his chin. “ Please?”
Hazel presses a hand to her chest in mock disbelief. “My, my, my. You are a very smart young man, Milo. What flavor do you want, honey?” She pauses and glances at us. “As long as it’s okay with the two of you.”
“Of course,” I say at the same time Indi says, “I heard suckers turn your skin whatever color you eat, but hey, go for it.”
Milo giggles and skips up to the counter. “Blue, please!”
“As you wish,” Hazel says, placing a grape Tootsie Pop in his hand.
Milo unwraps it, presses the wrapper into Hazel’s outstretched palm, and wanders over to look at bouquets in Mason jars on a wooden shelf.
“So,” Indi says to Hazel. “ All the gentlemen get suckers, huh? Let me guess: Jordan’s a chocolate kind of guy? No, wait, that’s so plain. It’s gotta be Graham.”
Hazel drops Milo’s wrapper in a wastebasket full of trimmed flower stems. “Jordan is cherry and Graham is orange. Your father is chocolate.”
Indi nods. “That checks out.”
“What about Colton?” I ask.
Hazel tips her head in Milo’s direction. “Same as the little guy.”
“That,” Indi says, nodding sagely, “ also checks out.”
“It also means I have an overabundance of raspberry,” Hazel teases. She pulls a plastic container from the shelf behind the counter and tips it to us. “I’m happy to give them to the ladies, too.”
Indi reaches for a crimson-wrapped Tootsie-Pop. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“I’m good,” I say. “But thank you.”
“Oh, come on, Chey. Don’t be such a mom .” Indi bumps her shoulder into mine playfully. “Live a little. It is a day of celebration, isn’t it?”
Both women look at me expectantly, brows raised, and I have to relent. “Okay, okay. If you insist.”
“Now.” Tootsie Pop unwrapped, Hazel’s hovers midair while she regards us. “What can I help you ladies with this afternoon? Oh!” She pauses and leans over to look at her calendar. “Your father comes home today, doesn’t he, Cheyenne? Goodness. I knew that, and I completely spaced it off. It’s been a little crazy around here today.”
Hearing the words out of someone else’s mouth is surreal. “Yes, tonight is the night. Which is actually why we’re here. Dad wants supper at the lake house, and I was wondering if you could make a couple arrangements? I know it’s last minute, and if you’re too busy—”
“Honey,” she says warmly, “I am never too busy for family. What do you have in mind?”
Forty-five minutes and two bouquets of periwinkle hydrangeas, white baby’s breath, and amethyst sea lavender later, we walk through the automatic sliding doors of Falls Market. My phone is pressed to my ear to call Colton. Somewhere between Milo helping Hazel arrange the flowers and texting my mom to ask about inviting Hazel and Sam, the entire Del Ray family became invited.
It's to be determined how Colton will feel about grilling an additional four racks of ribs.
“Hi, beautiful,” Colton says after the third ring.
I shrug my tote bag into the cart and nudge Milo through the second set of doors. “Hi. I, um, have a quick question for you.”
“Uh-oh.” His amusement carries flawlessly over the phone line. “Hold on—let me guess. You invited my entire family for supper?”
“Uh…yes?” My brow furrows. I try to steer the cart in a straight line, but it’s easier said than done with only one hand and a four-year-old who walks zigzagged. “How did you know? We literally just left Hazel’s to get the flowers.”
“Fini, I know you’re not familiar with the new and mostly improved Del Ray family, but if news travels fast in a small town, it travels at lightspeed through family group chats. Ember just asked if she should bring anything to supper, and Jordan said Sydney would make a pasta salad.”
“Sydney’s not in the chat?” I pause. “Also, I feel like that should be put on a t-shirt.”
“That Ember asked about bringing something?”
My Birkenstock clogs thump against the polished stone floor. “No. How news travels at lightspeed in family group chats.”
“Ah. And no, Sydney hasn’t been added. Jordan hasn’t married her yet.”
“I see.” I cup my hand around the speaker and tell Milo not to grab the bananas. Indi takes him by the hand to look at the dips, and I return my attention to the call. “Anyway, the reason I’m calling is—”
“Because I have an incredibly sexy phone voice and you were positively dying to hear it?”
I set a carton of plump blueberries in the cart and roll my eyes. “Not quite.”
“Okay, well, thanks. That was rude.” He pauses. I imagine he’s leaning back in his desk chair, dress shirt cuffed at the elbows, smile dimpling his cheeks. “But for the record, you have a sexy phone voice.”
“Colton,” I say, laughing. “We’re getting off topic.”
“Ah, right. You want to know how you can gain access to the coveted lightspeed text thread, don’t you?” Teasing laces his words, and he lowers his voice. “It’s fairly easy; simple, even. I make you my wife, and poof! Instant access.”
I barely resist using my grocery list to fan my flushed cheeks. “That’s all it takes, huh?”
“That’s all it takes,” he confirms.
“I’ll have to consider that,” I say with outward nonchalance. Inwardly, my stomach barrel rolls at the thought of becoming Colton’s wife. “Right now, though, I need to know if you’re willing to grill double the amount of ribs for tonight.”
“Let me guess—make my special sauce for them, too?”
“Since you mentioned it…” Just the thought of his piquant BBQ sauce has me drooling.
His laugh rumbles against my ear. “Of course, I’m willing. I’ll text you what I need. Feel free to get anything else you want.”
“Mr. Del Ray, you shouldn’t talk so dirty,” I tease. “Giving a woman free rein in a grocery store can be very dangerous.”
“Good thing I’ve always been up for a little danger, then,” he says in a low voice. “Oh, and, Cheyenne?”
“Yes?”
“I fully intend to get you on the coveted lightspeed family text thread.”
With that, he hangs up. Two texts come through seconds later.
I love you almost as much as I love your sexy phone voic e , and a selfie of him holding a landline phone to his ear.
Giddiness swoops in my abdomen. I grab a stray banana from the free child’s fruit basket and hold it up. I take a selfie and send it with I’m bananas for you.
Awe shuck s , he types back with a GIF of freshly shucked oysters. You’re making me blush.
I laugh outright.
Is it cheesy? Absolutely.
But is it perfect? Unquestionably so.
If you asked me to describe my ideal summer night, this would be it.
The men are gathered around two grills, Solo cups of blueberry lemonade in hand, shooting the breeze while smoke tinges the air tantalizingly. The grandmothers adjust table settings and fawn over the floral arrangements I transferred to vases. Sam sits on the dock with my Uncle Ty to monitor the kids while they swim. Mom and the other women buzz around the kitchen, putting salads in bowls and washing pre-dinner dishes.
Dad clears his throat after everyone settles in their chairs. The long table is decked out in blue floral ceramic plates, white cloth napkins, Hazel’s flowers, and enough food to go around thrice. Beau scoots back and helps our dad to his feet; one steady hand supports his arm and the other hovers near Dad’s back.
“I’ll keep this short because I know I’m not the only one looking forward to this meal,” Dad says, eliciting soft laughter. “But I need to express my gratitude to everyone at this table. I’m still coming to terms with how much I’ve missed, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to fully accept it. But tonight, we’re together. I want to celebrate the night for what it is—a new beginning.” Slowly, he leans down to clasp his glass. He waves Beau off when he tries to assist him. “To life’s greatest blessings—family, food, and fresh lake air.”
Hear, hear , is murmured around the table. Dad lowers back into his seat, Grandpa blesses the food, and everyone digs in. More than a half dozen conversations float around the table; Labor Day plans what the best barbeque joint within a fifty-mile radius is, who will win the World Series.
The adrenaline of the day is fading after everything is cleaned up. I lean back on the cushioned outdoor swing near the house and yawn, stretching my arms overhead. Colton and Graham are tossing a blowup beach ball with Milo and Jolene in the backyard, and everyone else is scattered. Some are playing cards at the kitchen table, others are sitting on the dock, and a few are getting everything ready for s’mores.
“This seat doesn’t happen to be taken, does it?”
Shading my eyes, I smile up at my father. “Nope.”
Dad gingerly lowers down next to me and rests his cane against the wooden frame of the swing. His skin is starting to regain its color, and his body is filling out again. I wonder if he’ll grow back the mustache Mom said she didn’t like but secretly loved.
Daddy likes to say he walked out of the bathroom with a mustache one night, and nine months later a healthy baby Justin was born.
“I thought about this moment a lot,” I say quietly, hands clasped in my lap. “Having you back. Seeing you here. At the lake house.”
He lowers his chin to his chest and exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, Annie. If I’d been driving slower, or if I’d have seen the ice—” He shakes his head. “You have to know that I didn’t do it on purpose. I don’t remember the accident well, but I didn’t. I know that much. And I also know I can’t change it, but I wish I could.”
Tears fill my eyes. “I missed you, Daddy.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders, tucking me safely into his side. “I’ve never missed anything more in my life than this right here, darlin’. I can’t translate what it was like into words; knowing I was still alive but not being alive, but I do know that I missed you. More than I’ll ever be able to say.”
I look up at him quizzically. “Why do I feel like there’s a but in there?”
He chuckles and squeezes my shoulder. “Not a but. Just a decision made. I’m going to need you to keep an open mind about it.”
My stomach knots. “A decision about what?”
“We’re selling the ranch, Annie.” The words are a blow, but he holds up a hand when I open my mouth. “It’s not because we need money, so don’t you go worrying. It’s just time for things to change, time for a fresh start. Ty’s kids live out of state, Beau is running his clinic, Justin has his law office, and—”
“I have absolutely no career,” I say hollowly. I shift out of his arms to sit up fully. “Dad, I will help at the ranch. You—”
“No.” He gives me a gently chiding look and tucks me into his embrace again. “I know you would—any of you kids would. But look around, Annie. You might not have a career in Chicago anymore, but you have this.” He gestures to our surroundings; to the children laughing, the brothers pretending to be lumberjacks as they haul firewood around the house, the serenity lining my mother’s face. “ This right here is worth more than any promotion you could’ve chased or the prestige of any job. You can make a difference in the world without life being grand, Annie. It’s made out to be that the normal days are insignificant, but without them, there would be very little left to live for.
“Some of my fondest memories, sweetheart, are far from grand,” he continues, tapping his thumb against my shoulder. “I remember your mother and I’s wedding day, but our marriage outshines it spectacularly. I remember what it was like to hold you and your brothers for the first time, but I also remember getting up with you in the middle of the night. Don’t downplay the importance of moments the world wouldn’t recognize, Annie. Those are often the best moments of your life.”
We sit in stillness when he finishes. I curl into his side and his feet set the swing gently into motion. Colton looks over at us and smiles, and Dad’s words begin to make sense when Colton calls Milo over to blow a kiss at me.
It’s a three-second moment that I will remember for the rest of my life. I’ll remember folding towels with Colton on the living room sofa after Milo and Indi are in bed, thunder rumbling the earth and both of us trying not to laugh because we fold them differently. I’ll remember jumping in the lake on a random Wednesday in July with Indi just because it’s unbearably hot. I’ll remember flipping through the same 168 pages of Sailing: The Basics while tucked under Milo’s nautical comforter, and I will always remember being held by my father after nearly losing him.
“Promise me something, Annie,” Dad says.
I look up at him.
“Never, and I mean never , take something or someone you love for granted.” His steady eyes fill with tears, but fierceness clings to his words. “You’ll have moments where it’s hard to see the other side of a rough time, where the world feels a little less happy and a lot more sad. But remember that it won’t be like that forever. When the storm passes, the sunshine will feel more brilliant than your mind could’ve conjured in its wildest dreams.”
“But in the meantime,” I say, borrowing his words from years ago, “learn to dance in the rain?”
“In the meantime,” he repeats, nostalgia lacing his voice, “learn to dance in the rain.”