so hard that I wheeze out a breath.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she whispers against my ear. “We’re here for you. Whatever you may need, all you have to do is let us know.”
“Thank you, Laura,” I whisper back.
We pull back, and after she brushes her fingers against my cheeks like a mother would a child, she turns to Lincoln. He gets the same hug and some whispered words before she switches her attention to the kids. Thankfully, the somber look vanishes from her face first, and she replaces it with a bright smile.
“Come here, you two.”
As one, both kids walk to their grandmother. I’m only mildly surprised when Gray doesn’t put up a fuss. He’s been more affectionate the last couple of weeks.
Inside the house, the kids immediately go to one of the spare rooms where they keep Pumpkin, Lincoln’s parents’ guinea pig. She was a rescue someone brought into the clinic a couple of years ago when they found him wandering around their yard. Laura happened to be in the office that day dropping something off. She immediately fell in love with the orange guinea pig and adopted her. She has her own room to roam around in, but anytime the kids are over, she’s brought out with the rest of the family.
Moments later, Pumpkin comes waddling around the corner with the kids trailing behind. I squat down and run my fingers over her coarse hair.
“Hey, Pumpkin.”
There’s a creak on the stairs, and we all look up as Mike descends them.
“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”
Mike and Lincoln hug, thumping each other on the back. “Can’t complain.” He ruffles Gray’s hair and tweaks Gemma in the cheek. “How are my two favorite grandchildren?”
“They’re your only grandchildren,” Laura snorts.
“You shush.”
Gemma hugs her grandfather’s waist, her cheek smashed against his stomach. “I’m good. How are you, Grandpa?”
“Just peachy, bug.”
Instead of hugging Mike, Gray lifts his hand for a shake, trying his best to act like a man. “Hey, Grandpa.”
Mike chuckles, grips Gray’s outstretched hand, and yanks him forward. “You know we hug in this family, boy. None of this handshake business.”
Gray grins as he wraps his arms around Mike’s waist.
“Much better,” Mike grunts.
The smile falls from Mike’s face when he faces me. I don’t wait for the invitation before I’m hugging him too. His embrace is tight and lasts for a bit longer than usual.
Thirty minutes later, we settle around the table, the delightful smells wafting around the room making my stomach grumble.
“Sounds like someone came with an empty stomach,” Mike remarks with a chuckle at hearing the sound.
“I did. Laura’s dishes are always delicious. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of room.” I pat my stomach.
“It’s a good thing too.” Laura lifts the lid to a big pot. “Because I made enough to feed an army. I’m sending the leftovers home with you since I know it’s your favorite.”
The instant we all see the deliciousness of Laura’s chili, my stomach isn’t the only one grumbling.
We all laugh when Gemma’s makes a noise resembling the one mine made a moment ago. Chili isn’t only my favorite, but also Gemma’s. She’s the first to hold her bowl out. The girl is greedy when it comes to Grandma’s chili.
“Looks like we know what we’re having for lunch and dinner tomorrow,” I tell Gemma as I fill her bowl.
“And breakfast too.”
Chuckling, Lincoln ruffles her hair. “I highly doubt your stomach could handle having chili for four meals in a row.”
“I bet it could,” Gemma argues, already scooping up a bite. “My stomach loves chili.”
“But I bet your butt doesn’t.”
“Lincoln Graham Bradshaw,” I admonish, choking on the bite I just took. Everyone else laughs.
Gray shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth. “What? It’s true. Remember the last time we brought home leftover chili?”
As if his words conjured up an unpleasant memory, Gemma’s brows pucker. “Maybe I’ll only have chili for lunch tomorrow.”
The words are mumbled with remorse, but it doesn’t stop her from scooping up another bite and shoving the spoon in her mouth.
“So, Molly. Mike and I were talking earlier today. We were thinking about taking a trip out to Ponduke Lake next week. Mike’s been itching to fish lately. You mind if the kids tag along with us?”
I glance at Lincoln to see how he feels, and he shrugs. I don’t want to give up a minute of time with the kids, but I know I can’t keep them all to myself. Besides, after seeing the hopeful look on both of their