Even her father—and he was always right about matters of the heart.
“Cormac let us in,” her father said. “I didn’t know that young man was back in town. We know his parents.”
“Good people,” her mom said.
“I’m glad you could join us.” Noah stood, gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek and shook her father’s hand—because Noah was always a gentleman. Taking the box from her father, he set it on the table. “Wine?”
“We’d love some,” her mom said with that cheeky, all-knowing smile. “Thank you.”
Ziggy watched them settle in—the blissful ease of two people who had been moving through the world together long enough that they didn't need to negotiate the small things anymore. They just knew where the other one was going to land, and if they miscalculated, it was never awkward. No, it was as if it had been planned from the beginning.
Ziggy had always admired her parents and what they’d built together. It hadn’t always been easy. They’d been young and often struggled financially in the beginning. But Ziggy and her siblings had never felt unloved, and they certainly had never gone without. Darcie might have struggled the most, but thatwas because she flopped around, not knowing what she really wanted out of life.
But their parents had taught them they could do anything, be anything—as long as they had a good foundation and kept their family close. Not necessarily literally, but somehow, they’d all ended up neighbors.
Noah eased back into his chair and topped off Ziggy’s glass without being asked.
That was one of the things she loved about him. He paid attention. He didn’t do it in a performative way but in the quiet, functional way of someone who'd spent years watching how a room worked and did his best to cater to those around him.
“I babysat this morning for Stephanie and Steve.” Her mother lifted her wine glass toward Noah. “Stephanie asked specifically about you. She wanted to know if Noah—her future husband—was coming to the family gathering this weekend.”
Noah dropped his head back and laughed. Hard. “She’s a sweet little girl, that one.”
“She wanted me to tell you, since I mentioned I’d be seeing you tonight, that she would save you a seat right next to her.”
“She’s barely four.” Noah smiled and shook his head. “Jag and Callie are in trouble with that one.”
“Stephanie is quite the opinionated little girl, and she has some serious goals,” her father said, staring right at Ziggy. “She reminds me of someone else when they were little.” He waved his finger. “You were always so outspoken as a child, and when you wanted something, you went for it.”
“We all did,” Ziggy said. “We got that from our mother.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her mom looked at her wine. “And Steve is quite the little charmer, too, you know. He takes after his grandfather.”
“That little boy is a hoot,” her dad said. “He decided it was his turn to take care of Cooper the other day. Just walked over andstuck his bottle in his mouth. The boy isn’t even two yet, and he's decided he's in charge of everyone younger than him, and a few older people, too.” Her father waved a hand over his head. “The little rascal had the nerve to tell me I was changing diapers all wrong. He went on to explain to me how you need to cover up little boys, so they don’t spray ya.”
“And then Cooper sprayed them both.” Her mother covered her mouth and giggled. “And Steve blamed it all on grandpa. It was hilarious.”
“Until Callie broke out all the cleaning and disinfectant things.” Her dad leaned back.
"To be fair," Ziggy said, "Callie wipes down the counters afterourfingers touch them.”
"She and your brother deserve each other," her father said, with the kind of affection that accompanied a genuine compliment.
This was the kind of family conversation Ziggy lived for. When no one held anything back and just said what they were thinking when it popped into their brain. And there was no judgment.
Noah laughed again, and she realized she hadn’t heard it nearly enough during the last few years. Her dad looked at him, his expression the same as it was when he looked at everyone in his family—as if Noah belonged.
Her father wasn’t a demonstrative man. He didn't often share his feelings. But he always showed up, because that’s what good men did. And he'd been showing up for Noah for as long as she could remember.
She thought about that, sometimes. What it cost Noah to let her family in. How it had to remind him of the father he’d loved. The father who’d showed up for him day in and day out. Then one day, everything flipped in an instant, and Noah’s world had changed in ways only a handful of people could understand.
“Want to hear something really funny?” Her mother didn’t wait for anyone to answer. “Priela told me that this morning that Skye told Troy she didn't like his singing right in the middle of a song.”
“Oh, good lord.” Ziggy rolled her eyes. “Troy can’t carry a tune.”
“You’re absolutely right about that,” her father agreed. “And Priela recorded it."
Ziggy sat up taller. “I need a copy of that recording for the next time my darling little brother decides to play a stupid joke on me. He’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is.”