cooking was the best.
Asher and Grace sat across from me, and Fiona and Evan were on my left. Levi and Logan were both off duty tonight, so they were here too. And Gram sat in her usual spot.
If any more of us brought someone home, Gram was going to need a bigger table.
Not that it was likely. Logan didn’t exactly date girls you brought home to meet your family. And Levi didn’t date at all, as far as I knew. Or if he did, he kept quiet about it.
What was Skylar doing tonight?
That was a weird thought to have out of nowhere.
I peeked at my phone just in case she’d texted me. She hadn’t, which was oddly disappointing, since I wasn’t expecting her to. But I hadn’t seen her today and I was kind of bummed about that.
Actually, I was a lot bummed about that.
But her friend was in town, so she was busy.
And okay, I was kind of pouting because I’d been hoping to do something with her today.
“So are we going to talk about it, or just pretend it isn’t today?” Asher asked.
His question got my attention, because like everyone else in this room—with the possible exception of Fiona, unless Evan had told her—I knew exactly what he was talking about.
It was our mom’s birthday.
“Mom’s birthday,” Levi said, echoing my thought.
The table quieted, like it always did when we acknowledged our parents. I kept my eyes on my empty plate, bracing myself for the inevitable. For everyone to start talking about them.
I hated it when they did that.
“How old would she have been this year?” Logan asked.
“Fifty-four,” Gram said.
“Do you guys remember when Dad threw her a big birthday party?” Asher asked.
“Vaguely,” Evan said.
I didn’t. I’d probably been a baby.
“I just remember bits and pieces of it,” Asher said. “I think Dad put trick candles on her cake.”
“He did,” Gram said with a soft smile. “By the time she realized they were going to keep lighting after she blew them out, she was laughing too hard to try.”
“I remember how much they smiled,” Grace said. “They always seemed so happy.”
“They were,” Gram said. “Their love was big. For each other and for their boys.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping they’d change the subject.
“The thing I remember most is her reading to us,” Logan said. “It’s not a clear memory, but it seems like she did that a lot.”
Levi nodded. “I remember that, too. I think she did.”
“On the couch before bed,” Evan said. “And we’d fight over who got to sit next to her. Except Gavin. He sat on her lap.”
“Oh yeah,” Logan said, his mouth twitching with a smile.
I didn’t say anything. Because I didn’t remember any of it.
I didn’t remember them.
When they’d died, Asher had been nine, Evan around eight. The twins had been six. All old enough to form lasting memories of our parents, even if they were only vague ones. Even Grace remembered them. But I’d been four—too young to keep any of those memories.
I knew what they’d looked like, but only because I’d seen pictures. I knew stories about them, but only the things I’d been told. None of it lived in my head. I couldn’t conjure a single image of my mother or my father. Not even one.
And I hated that I was the only one who couldn’t.
Still, I didn’t want to be an asshole about it. So whenever this happened, and everyone seemed to need to talk about them, I just kept my mouth shut until it was over.
Tonight, though, the subject made me fidget. My leg itched inside my cast and my ass hurt from the way I’d been sitting. I shifted in my chair again.
Asher kissed the back of Grace’s hand. Fiona leaned against Evan’s shoulder. Logan glanced at Levi and he nodded, as if Logan had said something out loud—but he hadn’t. Silent acknowledgments of shared grief, and shared comfort.
I didn’t have anything to add and my mood was quickly turning shitty. Which meant it was time for me to go.
“We’ll take care of your plate, Otter,” Gram said.
She was such a mind reader.
“Thanks.” I pushed myself to my feet and hopped to where I’d leaned my crutches against the wall. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“You heading home?” Levi asked.
“Yeah. Eventually.”
“You okay, brocamole?” Logan asked.
“Other than my leg itching, yeah.” I went over to Gram and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner. I’m stuffed.”
“Have a good night, Otter,” she said.