Sitting around that table, with those people—my people—made my heart swell.
After dinner I offered to help Gloria clean up, but as usual, she smiled and told me to go away.
Andy, the kids, and I all huddled in the family room, curled up on the couch together.
“How was your first meal at home?” Andy relaxed back into the couch as he twirled Becca’s hair in his fingers. She’d been attached to him ever since we walked through the door.
I let my head fall back against the couch. “So good! I’m stuffed!”
“Okay, who’s ready to open some of these cards?” Gloria chuckled as she came into the room. “You guys are going to be at this for hours!”
“How do we do this? Does it matter which flowers they come off of? Do I send a thank-you card for flowers?” The questions fell from my mouth one after the other.
Andy stared at me with raised eyebrows. “I’m thinking given the circumstances, people are going to understand if they don’t get a thank-you card from you.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I shrugged.
“Can I get the cards?” Logan asked, hopping up from the chair and scampering into the kitchen.
Becca was right on his heels. “Me too!”
“Be careful!” Andy hollered after them. “I really don’t want any flowers or water spilled or vases broken.”
“Okay!” they called back in unison.
Andy turned his attention my way. “I meant to ask you . . . when is your dad going to be here full-time?”
I took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “Soon! He’s aiming for next week, actually.”
“Does he need a place to stay?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Since I’m not using it, I told him to stay at my house until he decides where he wants to live and whether he wants to buy or rent.”
“Good,” he said firmly.
I furrowed my brows at him. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, his eyes piercing into mine. “The longer he stays there, the longer I get to keep you here.”
I rolled my eyes and started to give him a smart-ass response, but Becca and Logan came running back into the room, each carrying a handful of tiny envelopes and cards.
“We got as many as we could.” Logan grinned, dropping them into a little pile on the coffee table.
“I’m pretty sore and tired from all the excitement today.” I struggled to keep my eyes open through a big yawn. “You guys want to read some of them out loud to me?”
As the kids knelt at the coffee table, huddled around their individual piles of cards, Andy scooted in close and tucked me in the crook of his arm. Gloria reached down and grabbed the crossword puzzle book she’d been working on for weeks and busied herself with that. Logan tore open the first card.
He squinted, reading it silently at first.
I leaned into Andy and whispered, “We should get his eyes checked. Has he had that done recently?”
A smile as big as I’d ever seen formed on Andy’s sexy mouth. “Look at you.”
“What?”
“That was a very mom thing to say.”
“Oh.” My stomach flipped. “Sorry, I just meant that—”
“Dani.” He reached up and rested his fingers on my lips gently. “What I said was a good thing. Quit apologizing.”
“It says . . . Get well soon and heal quickly, Dani. We love you!” Logan read slowly.
“Who’s it from?” Andy asked.
His mouth fell open, and his blue eyes grew huge as he stared down at the card. He’d never looked more like his father than at that moment. “The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders!” he squealed.
“I love those girls,” I said.
“Me too. Hubba, hubba!” Logan wiggled his eyebrows upside down.
“Logan!” I exclaimed as Andy’s shoulders shook from laughing.
They spent the next twenty minutes or so taking turns tearing the cards open and reading them. Logan had to help Becca with a few of hers because of the big words.
“This one says . . . Hang in there, boss. Love, Kyle Keegan,” Becca read slowly.
“Aww, that was sweet. Bet his mom sent it,” I joked. Andy let out a loud belly laugh.
“Whoa!” Logan’s eyes bulged again. “This one has a swear word.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is it from someone named Sadie?”
“Or Viper?” Andy added.
He shook his head. “It says . . . I’m not done yet, b-word.” His eyes lifted to his dad’s, and my whole body froze. Gloria gasped and dropped her crossword book. Andy stood so fast I nearly fell over in his spot. As he marched over and took the card from Logan, reading it again silently, I prayed that Logan had somehow misread something. The second Andy’s eyes shifted to me, I knew. He didn’t have to say a single word, and I already knew. But how? He was in prison. Detective Larson was very skeptical that he’d be able to bond out, and even if he did, Larson promised to call us immediately.