Jaylynn glances over at me, eyes playful. “Growing up at the inn, I bet it was always like that for you. Just being there at Christmas was loud, but fun. I don’t think there was ever a moment of silence.”
I smile, nostalgia curling through my chest. “There’s something to be said for loud chaos. You never feel alone when there’s always someone shouting your name from another room.”
“Or stealing your food,” Penn adds, smirking.
“That too.” I laugh. “Character-building.”
Plates clatter, conversation flows, and for a moment it feels like we’re all suspended in that easy kind of comfort that only comes from good food and better company.
Then Gina turns to Rowyn. “What was it like for you growing up in Snowberry?”
The shift is subtle but instant. I feel Rowyn stiffen beside me. Instinct kicks in. I rest my hand on her thigh under the table, giving a quick reassuring squeeze. Her muscles ease, just a little.
“It was quiet, actually,” she explains, her voice even but softer. “Just Mom and me.”
Penn jumps in, saving her from the spotlight. “Like Aunt Elaine and me,” he says cheerfully, piling an impressive scoop of potatoes on his plate. “One of these days, we’ll fill this house with chaos, right, Jay?”
“Yes, but not right away.” Jaylynn shoots him a mock glare. “I’m so busy with work, and there’s still lots of time.” She turns to Rowyn, her tone easy again. “I’d imagine it’s the same for you. Your career must be pretty demanding.”
Rowyn smiles politely, though I can feel the tension beneath her calm exterior. Her fingers brush mine under the table, just a whisper of contact, but it’s says so much and is enough to make my heart hurt for her.
Deep down, I suspect this woman wants a family, children…the white picket fence, but it’s everything she was taught never to want.
“It is,” she says, her smile soft but thoughtful, like she’s holding back a whole story.
Jaylynn leans forward, curious. “Do you find it rewarding? All those long hours, late nights, chasing the story?”
Rowyn gives a smile that’s genuine, warm, but there’s something under it, something quiet that only I seem to notice. “It’s so rewarding,” she says.
“So… I guess it’ll be a while for kids for you too, huh?” Jaylynn adds, innocently enough.
Rowyn almost pales. I feel my stomach twist. “Um…uh.”
Jaylynn’s face flushes crimson. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jaylynn stammers, waving her hands like she’s trying to erase the words. “I didn’t mean any pressure. Some people don’t ever want kids, and that’s perfectly okay too.”
There’s a pause, and then Gina chimes in, gentle but curious. “Your mom must be proud of you.”
Rowyn’s smile widens, and I can see the quiet pride in her eyes. “She’s very proud. All she ever wanted was for me to succeed.”
“And you did,” I murmur, letting my hand brush hers under the table, a small squeeze that she feels even if no one else does.
Gina’s eyes stay on her. “It can be hard, balancing a busy career and family life. Especially when we have the men away all the time, leaving us to pick up the slack.”
“I can imagine,” Rowyn says, nodding, but then quickly changes the subject. “You’re still pretty busy at work. Have you been able to find help?”
Gina sighs and takes a bite of salad, shaking her head. “Not yet. Unfortunately. I do have some interviews for a temporary afterschool nanny though, so hopefully that goes well…” Then her eyes widen, and she freezes mid-chew. “Wait, this salad! Jaxon, this is amazing.”
“Thanks,” I say, keeping it casual. “Old family recipe.”
“Yeah, but… did you make it? Or did your family send it from Vermont?”
Rowyn laughs beside me, eyes sparkling. “Can I tell them?”
“No,” I blurt, faster than I mean to.
Ash folds his arms, leaning back like he’s about to referee a debate. “Okay, now you have to tell us.”
“Nope,” I counter, folding my arms to match his, smug and playful. The girls all laugh, and Rowyn’s grin makes my chest tighten in a good way.