The Birthday List(106)

Jimmy just shrugged. “This is my seat.”

“Fine.” I got them each a glass of water before leaving them alone to join the party.

It didn’t surprise me that they were in their stools. Jimmy and Randall, sitting in the same spots as they had nearly every day since I’d opened The Maysen Jar, had become fixtures in the restaurant. They were as much a part of this place as the brick walls or wood floors.

Last year, when I’d won an award for Bozeman’s best restaurant, the newspaper reporter had spent more time interviewing those two than he had me or Molly. They’d practically become famous after that. There wasn’t a day that went by anymore where the counter wasn’t full of their friends from The Rainbow.

But no one ever dared sit in their stools.

There had only been one incident when a poor, unsuspecting fool had tried to take Randall’s seat. He’d chased away the “stool thief” with a tongue-lashing and some wild swinging of his cane. Thankfully, no one had gotten hurt, but ever since, Molly and I had marked those stools as reserved to avoid the risk of assault.

And if they wanted to sit in their seats, far be it from me to insist they move.

I crossed the restaurant with my eyes locked on a little girl bouncing off her seat to race my way.

“Mommy!” MacKenna’s chin and cheeks were covered in blue frosting. Her green eyes, the ones she’d inherited from Cole, were darting back and forth between me and the present table. “Time for pwesents?”

I smiled and stroked her brown curls. “Not quite yet. Let’s give everyone a chance to finish eating their cake.”

Her three-year-old face formed a scowl. “But I eat mine alweady.”

“MacKenna Lou,” Mia called from the table. “Come sit by me and you can have more cake.”

The scowl disappeared from my beautiful daughter’s face as she raced to her grandmother’s side.

Mia was MacKenna’s favorite person on the planet other than her baby brother. Cole came in a close third with me trailing a distant fourth. But I loved that my daughter had such a close relationship with her nana.

Really, she was close with all her grandparents.

Just as he’d planned, Brad had retired as chief of police a few years ago. He and Mia spent some time traveling, but for the most part, they were wholly dedicated to their grandchildren. Evie and Zack’s triplets—three rambunctious boys—had just turned five. MacKenna was three.

And today, Brady James Goodman was one.

Just like his sister, Brady loved his grandparents, but while Mia and MacKenna had a special connection, Brady was more attached to my mom.

I walked around the table and took the free chair between my parents. Brady, who’d been sitting on my mom’s lap and sharing her cake, lunged for me the moment I sat down.

“Hi, baby.” I kissed his cheek. “Did you like the cake?”

His answer was to stick his fingers in his mouth and suck off the frosting.

Like MacKenna’s, Brady’s hair was brown like Cole’s, but while MacKenna had gotten Cole’s green eyes, Brady’s were completely unique. They were blue, like mine, but a brighter shade with small green flecks around the middle.

“How is it?” I asked Mom as I picked up my own fork.

She swallowed her bite of cake. “So. Good. I love the almond flavor you added. You’ve inspired me to do some experimenting.”

“Like what?” I took a bite of my own piece of cake. With a mental pat on the back for one hell of a good cake, I kept eating as Mom and I chatted about new recipe ideas. Something we did a lot these days.

My parents had moved to Bozeman from Alaska last fall. Sadly, all of my grandparents had passed within the last four years, and since my parents no longer had family in Anchorage, they’d retired and moved here to be closer to their grandchildren. Dad had gotten a part-time job at the private airfield—mostly so he had an excuse to leave the house—and Mom came into the restaurant most days to help me cook.

I loved that they were closer. Everyone did. Kali and Max had been overjoyed when they’d moved here, and my kids wouldn’t remember a time when they didn’t have four grandparents at their beck and call.

Like Finn and I when we’d been kids.

“Where did your brother disappear to?” Dad stood to clear his plate.

“He and Cole went to buy more beer. When they get back, we’ll open presents.”

Dad smiled and patted my shoulder. “Everything was delicious. Don’t tell your mother,” he leaned down but didn’t even try to whisper as he grinned at Mom, “but I think you’ve surpassed her.”

Mom just laughed. “I know she has.”

“I ate too much.” Molly slid past Dad and into his empty seat, collapsing and rubbing her stomach. “But it was so good. We need to add that cake to the menu.”

“Or maybe we should make a cake every week, just for the staff to share.”

“Yes!” Molly cheered. “They’ll love that.”

Mom, Molly and I visited for a while until the cake was demolished and the kids were chasing each other around the tables. So while everyone was enjoying the conversation, I left Brady under the watchful eye of his grandparents and snuck away to my office.

I flicked on the light and pulled out my phone, swiping to find the right picture. Then, using the special printer that Cole had gotten me last year for Christmas, I hit print.