We sit and watch CoCo for the fifteenth time, Zoey playing with Victoria’s hair, my arms wrapped tight around them both.

Chapter 22

Captain

Zoey stands beside me, Easter basket dangling from both hands as she stomps her feet excitedly, not so patiently waiting as my dad takes off his suit jacket, giving her something to sit on the grass with.

He lays it out beside the only two picnic tables we could find that weren’t crammed with a dozen others here at the festival.

As quickly as he’s stepping back, she’s falling to her knees and pouring everything from her basket. She stares at all the sealed plastic eggs with a bright smile.

“Is there candy in them?” she asks.

“I don’t know, open and see.”

“Maybe there’re stickers!”

I grin. “Maybe.”

She gasps, looking to me. “Maybe there’s a frog!”

I start laughing, the others following suit.

A frog?

“I don’t know, Zo.” I chuckle. “But we’re about to find out.”

One by one she starts to open them, finding something new each time.

We may have gone a little overboard, but being her first holiday at home, me and my brothers wanted it to be special, so we stayed up half the night decorating the house and hiding eggs from the mansion to the orchard.

We got the biggest, fluffiest bunny we could find, setting it in the center of the room, but when it came to her basket, the big overflowing one we brought home and the mountain of toys to go with, it didn’t feel right, so we tossed it in the back of Royce’s SUV. He drove the stuff over to Mac to make sure someone who might need it would get it in time, while me and Maddoc called Maybell in a panic. She laughed and asked us to come down to the Bray house.

When we got there, she was on the porch, bag in hand.

She knew we’d need a little help in the end, and what she had waiting was perfect for Zoey.

A strong, white wicker basket, one she could hold in her hand that wouldn’t drag along the floor as she carried it around, the perfect little fit for her.

It has a purple ribbon that weaves in and out of the edge, and small pink flowers strategically sewn along it. With white grass, a small pink bunny, a chocolate duck, and four tie-dye plastic eggs, it was perfect, as was the look on her face when she found it this morning.

We never even told her about the eggs we hid outside, she was too happy with the few she got, but after seeing her face hunting eggs out here, I might.

“Place hasn’t changed at all, has it?” Royce looks around.

I glance from the food carts to the bounce houses and game stations. There are booths lining the area, vendors selling homemade signs and jewelry, and other random items you might not find every day.

Every year, as kids, Maybell would bring us here for Easter.

It’s two hours outside of town and held on someone’s farmland, but there are still a shit load of attendees, while remaining a place free of Brayshaw townspeople. Since I haven’t shared I have a daughter, it’s what we need.

“I’m going to grab a soda or something,” Victoria says as she stands and heads toward the food carts.

“Wait up, I’m starvin’, too.” Royce hops up.

That gains Zoey’s attention, but she doesn’t even have to ask. Royce picks her up and off they go.

My dad makes his way around the front of the tables then and drops down beside me.

“How you doin’, son?” he asks, beginning to roll up the cuffs to his button-up.

I nod, dragging my eyes from my brother and focusing on my dad. “I’m good.”

He studies me a long moment and then turns away. “You know, you don’t have to do what others think is right, what the world, what our world, said is right? In the end, Cap. You’re the one that has to choose, to decide, if you want this life or not, the decision is yours. It has to be one you can be proud of, not one you wish you could change.” He looks to Maddoc, who stands beside Raven. “That goes for you and your brother. You shouldn’t have to drive two hours just to have a place to take your children to play,” he says, a shadow of guilt crossing his face.

“So we won’t.” Raven shrugs. “Next time we have something in town, let the kids of Brayshaw come. All of them, not just the ones with a trust fund.”

Maddoc drops his head, kissing her neck, and when he stands, it’s a little taller than before. He looks our dad in the eye, speaking for all of us as he knows he can. “We decided a long time ago who we want to be, and that’s not changing. It’s time the town catches up.”

“That’s what I had hoped to hear.” He nods, a smile on his face as he stands, moving back to the side he was sitting on as the others return.

I raise a brow at Royce, Zoey at his side with a cotton candy twice the size of her on a funnel in her hand.

“She’s the boss, Cap!” he shouts with a grin.

I shake my head, looking to Zoey as she tears off a piece and holds it out for Victoria.

She smiles, taking it right as she steps up, choosing to sit on top of the table, her soda nestled between her legs, feet planted on the bench seat.

“You don’t have to eat that, you know,” Raven teases.

Her glare flies to Raven, but then a low laugh follows. “Shut up.”

Curious, I study her, noticing the creases now framing her eyes as she purses her lips at the candy.

“You don’t like sweets,” I realize.

Her eyes fly my way, but she quickly glances down, preparing to stick a piece in her mouth, but I shoot my hand out, snatch it and toss it behind me.

Victoria’s head tugs back, and Zoey gasps having caught me.

“Daddy, oh no!” She jumps to her feet and tries to hand Vee another chunk. “More for you, Rora. Daddy can’t have some.”

“Zoey, did you ask Victoria if she wants more?”

Zoey frowns, her eyes moving to Victoria who clenches her jaw.

“Do you want to have some?” Zoey asks while pushing it toward her.

Victoria’s shoes slide against the metal bench, and she rubs her lips together while keeping a smile on for Zoey.

She can’t tell her no.

“Zoey, come look at the butterfly.” Our dad pulls her attention away.

She runs off, candy-coated sugar still in her hands.

“We have to tell her no sometimes,” I say.

Victoria slides her tongue along her teeth, frowning.

“Have you?” she challenges.

My glare is instant, and she sighs, looking away with the shake of her head.

“I can’t,” she admits. “I’ve tried and I just... can’t.”

“So you eat cotton candy and cinnamon rolls instead, things you don’t like?”

She shrugs. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Yeah, for her, she means.

My stomach muscles tighten, and I slide over on the bench until I can grab her right foot, lifting it up and over my body, so one is planted on each side of me.

Her wrist curls, tucking her drink into her chest as she pulls the plastic back into her mouth and bites. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever I want.”

She chuckles, leaning forward. “And what is it you want, Cap?”