"I have a truck too," Mark insisted.
"He has a red truck."
Eli and I laughed at that, knowing his truck was not, in fact, red, and that hopefully Little Eli didn't have his heart set on that.
"I owe you," a deep, smooth male voice said as he moved to stand beside me, watching Eli zoom zoom with Little Eli's truck, plowing right through the kid's slice of cheesecake, an action that the little guy found hilarious.
Charlie Mallick.
There was something intimidating in him, something that spoke of his past, something in the way he carried himself. But I had seen him throw a little girl up in the air until his arms must have felt like Jell-O. Being a grandparent had obviously softened him.
"No, you don't," I objected, shaking my head. "Believe me, I wanted this too. He needed this so badly."
Oh, crap.
I was getting all misty-eyed again.
What was wrong with me?
"There isn't a doubt in my mind, hon, that we never would have seen him at our table again if not for you. He told his brother that he was dead just a couple weeks ago. You brought him back to life. I owe you. From what I hear, you have your life on track. You don't have need for anything I could usually offer. But I can offer you this," he said, waving his hand out toward the room as a whole.
Oh, Jesus, with the waterworks.
Peyton was never going to let me live all this crying down.
But, the fact of the matter was, family was nice.
I had always had Peyton, and she meant the world to me, but I never really had a chance to experience a fun, loving, supportive family. Just getting a couple hours in one made me want more.
And Charlie was offering it to me.
It was one thing when it was just acceptance, just the fact that you had to have a place at your table for your child's spouse. It was a complete other to welcome them with open arms.
Sensing my tears even though my head was ducked, Charlie's arm went around my lower back, pulling me close enough to kiss my temple. "Welcome to the family, Autumn."
Eli chose that exact moment to look over.
And his eyes went heavy with feeling, seeming to understand exactly what was happening.
"Bitch, get it together," Peyton declared as she moved into the spot Charlie vacated. "Or drown it in chocolate cake. You're embarrassing the family," she declared in a dead-on mobster impression, hand motions and all.
But I was still being a sap.
"I think this is our new family, Peyton."
She thought on that, looking around, then gave me a nod.
"Fine, then you're just being a sap. Ovary-up, woman! Oh, is that an apple danish?" she asked, making a bee-line for the pile.
"I think she was serious about the crane thing," Eli told me, walking right up, and pulling me to him.
"She doesn't do much by half," I agreed.
"Pops just welcomed you to the family, didn't he?"
I felt like this was shaky ground.
What if Eli wasn't at that place yet, and his father was overstepping?
"Ah, kinda," I admitted, because it was true.
His arms folded around my back, pulling my hips to his.
"Honey, wait till you see Christmas."
And, well, I maybe sorta kinda totally lit the heck up.
I was part of the family.
Maybe, possibly, someday, I might actually be a Mallick myself.FIFTEENEliWe left it there.
It wasn't something we discussed or planned on, but something that had just happened.
After Helen stuffed a plate for Peyton to take home, and she spent the five-minute car ride back to their place complaining about how we could let her eat so much, we took Coop for a short walk which wasn't even necessary since the kids had run him ragged, and we both got ready for bed.
And we didn't talk about it.
Autumn had needed to go back on our plans to get kinky at my place, to pass out almost immediately because, apparently, sex toys were a hot commodity when put on Black Friday sales, and she was even soliciting Peyton to help her out. I had offered, but she had a kind and roundabout way of - essentially - telling me I would be in the way. Because Peyton had worked for her here and there, she knew how to use the system and where all the items were while I would likely just keep asking questions which would only slow them down.
I understood that.
So when I got up, them so long gone that the coffee machine had already bleeped off, I took Coop with me back to my place so I could put the finishing touches on the pieces for the show.
One day.
Before, it had seemed like a monumental thing, like a life-or-death situation, like it was my only chance in life.
That day, as I put a splash of color here or a small detail there, it suddenly didn't seem quite as life-altering.