She turned back to the women and the task at hand and let the sweet goodness of life wash over her in continuing waves. Mysterious Coleman histories would be chatted about with her guys when they got home.
Keeping a secret in this family, where everyone knew everyone else’s business? The fact it had held for this long was a miracle. No chance the truth wasn’t going to come out eventually.
6
Blake pushed back from the table, stomach protesting with how stuffed he was. Even though the holidays were over and they’d headed into the new year, there was no such thing as a small meal ever offered at his mother’s. “Ma, you and Jaxi outdid yourself tonight.”
“Still haven’t figured out how to cook for just two,” his mom said with a laugh as she eyed the mostly full bowls lining the table. “Your kids need to hurry up and get bigger so they eat more.”
“Dear Lord, there’s a reason why the garden keeps getting bigger every year,” Jaxi said with a wink. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Marion’s cheek. “My thanks as well. It was delicious.”
“It was really yummy, Gramma,” Lana agreed.
“We like your meatloaf better than Mommy’s…”
“… because she sneaks carrots into hers.”
A snort escaped before Blake could stop it. He schooled himself and turned a stern expression on the twins. “You seem to eat an awful lot of that meatloaf, even with the carrots.”
“Mommy’s is good,” Becca agreed.
“…only, Gramma’s is even better. No carrots,” Rae said slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.
“I think you’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, Blake.” Jaxi clapped her hands. “Okay, dishes time. We’ll have conversations about the why of meatloaf ingredients when you get a little older.”
Blake helped clear, but then his mom and Jaxi both shooed him from the kitchen area. “I can take the boys—”
“We got it this time,” his mom insisted, gesturing to the mass of kids milling around in organized chaos. They even had little Justin perched on a tall stool at the counter, smacking his hands into the soapy dishwater as bubbles flew upward. “Go play crib or relax or whatever.”
“And show your Dad that picture I found,” Jaxi reminded him before vanishing behind the kitchen door.
Right. Blake reached into the breast pocket of his shirt before rejoining his dad at the now-empty table. “Jaxi and the girls were going through some boxes and found this. I’ve never seen it before.”
He handed it to Mike, who clicked his tongue in amazement. A gentle shake of his head followed as he gazed at the slightly yellowed four-by-five photo.
It was a collection of four Coleman men, all at different stages of their lives. They were seated on hay bales, a small baby settled in the lap of one. Canadian flags and red and white streamers hung in the background.
“Well, I’ll be. That was taken on Canada Day the year you were born.” Mike pointed. “Grandpa Stan, I mean, your Great-Grandpa. My dad, Royce. Me and you. You would’ve been not even two months old.”
“Four generations of Colemans.” Blake stared over his dad’s shoulder. “That’s pretty neat.”
Mike nodded slowly. “Great-Grandpa Stan passed away later that summer, so this is probably one of the only pictures with all of us together.”
Blake racked his memory, but he was coming up blank. “I’ve been thinking ever since Jaxi showed it to me, and I figured it was you and me, but I don’t have any memories of when Grandpa Royce was around, either.”
“Makes sense. You were still young when he died.”
Mike stared at the photo for a little while as womanly laughter and the sound of childish shrieking echoed from the kitchen.
His dad tilted his head then gestured for Blake to join him outside. “Let’s go for a walk.”
It was brisk outside, the January air cool against their skin. Their breath formed fog clouds around their heads as they strolled the path between the trailer his parents had moved into and a small barn/workshop. They’d built it last summer so Mike had somewhere to work on projects without going to the main barn across the road at the Six Pack land.
Something was obviously on his father’s mind, but Blake paced silently beside him and let the older man take the time he needed.
They were inside the barn, the golden lights overhead reflecting off the wooden walls. Mike stoked the coals in the airtight stove and placed another log on them before