“Take a seat,” she said. Dad was already seated at the table.
“You look like you’re training hard,” he said. It was more of an observation.
“I’m feeling strong,” I confirmed.
He hesitated. “Phoenix mentioned this guy you’re fighting.”
There it was. I sat down slowly. “I’m ready.”
“He’s dangerous,” Dad said matter-of-factly.
“So am I,” I grinned.
Dad sighed. “You don’t need to do this anymore. You have the orchard. You enjoy working with the kids at the community center.”
I leaned back in my chair. “This isn’t about proving something.”
“Then what’s it about?” he asked.
Money. Stability. Building something real. Claire.
I shrugged. “I’ve been watching tape. Training smart. I know what I’m walking into.”
He watched me in that quiet way of his. “I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said finally.
Something in his voice softened me. “I’ll be careful.”
It wasn’t a promise I could guarantee. But it was the truth.
“Okay, enough shop talk,” Sandy said. “Let’s dig in.”
So that’s what we did. We ate garden salad and shepherd’s pie. For dessert, Sandy offered me a strawberry rhubarb pie, but I was staying away from sugar until after the fight. I thanked Dad and Sandy and went on my way. Since I was full from dinner, I left my truck parked at the main house, and walked toward my cabin. The night air was cool. I spotted Claire near the path.
“Hey,” I said.
She smiled softly. “I was at Harmony’s. She fed me lemon tarts.”
I laughed. “That tracks.”
She stepped closer, but her expression shifted.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She hesitated, fingers twisting together. “I… wanted to tell you something.”
My stomach tightened. “I’m late,” she said quietly.
Everything went still. I looked at her face. She was nervous, searching mine for something. Fear? Hope? Uncertainty filled her. That much I could tell.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Scared,” she admitted.
I nodded slowly. “We don’t know anything yet.”
“I know.”
I stepped closer, brushing my thumb along her hand. “Whatever happens,” I said, voice low, steady, “we figure it out together.”