“Heck yes.”
“Best. Idea. Ever!” Ronnie wraps me in a tight hug before racing out of the room.
A challenging brow quirks at Byron. “What do you say?”
He motions toward the kitchen. “After you.”
We reclaim our seats at the dining table and divide the gumdrops into piles. Ronnie is practically bouncing in her chair. Her father is sprawled out in all his man-spread glory, announcing that his attempt to win is zero. I’m just glad the mood has shifted to our usual comfort level.
My gaze swivels between them. “Any guesses how many you’ll get?”
“A million!” Ronnie shouts.
“Wow, I can’t beat that.”
Victory already brightens her features. “Ready?”
I nod and snatch a sticky piece between my fingers. “Go!”
Ronnie immediately dives in. Her style is a rapid fire as she shoves the candy into her mouth. Byron’s pace is lazy at best. Mine is fast enough to appear like I’m at least trying, but I never stood a chance.
The little girl squishes in one more and it’s over. “Mer hawim!”
The handful in my mouth shoot out at her adorable declaration. Not to mention her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “You won!”
Ronnie chews quickly, ingesting entirely too much sugar at once. “I did it!”
“Didn’t doubt you for a second, cupcake.” Byron beams at her as if this was a gold medal competition.
“How many fit in there?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. They’re in my tummy.”
“A million plus one,” Byron says.
“That’s soooo many!” Ronnie giggles loudly.
I exhale a laugh. We’re back to fun and happy and light. It’s our safe space. That’s where we belong.
After stomping through the heavy snowfall of what might become a Christmas blizzard, I find Frankie in the barn with Greta. My stride is nearly silent as I approach the horse’s stall where the redhead is hiding. She snuck out of the house after tucking Ronnie into bed. If privacy is what she’s looking for, she’s not going to get that from me.
“Need an escape?”
She shivers regardless of the heated interior. Her haunted green eyes latch onto mine. “Always.”
My nod is slow but steady. “I thought we should talk.”
“That’s not ominous or anything.”
An easy chuckle rumbles free. This version of Frankie is manageable. I was at a total loss while she was crying. Offering a sympathetic shoulder to lean on isn’t our norm.
“You handled that well,” I offer as a peace agreement.
“Are you surprised?”
I dip my chin. “It’s unfamiliar territory. For both of us. Not sure how I would’ve responded.”
“Probably wouldn’t have gotten yourself in that position to begin with.”