Once we’re finished and place all the food on the table, my mom whistles loudly–her signature dinner call when we were kids–and we all find our chairs. Vivian is in between me and Mom—because girls rule obviously—with my brothers across the table. My dad sits in his usual spot, at the head of the table.
“Lead it off, V,” my dad says.
Vivian bows her little head and places her hands in her lap to pray. “Um…thank you for my daddy, and best friend, Aunt Tessa. Thank you for my uncles, and the best grandma and grandpa. And…thank you for this food…even though none of us really like fish. Amen.”
I snort loudly, my hand flying up to my mouth to cover up a laugh.
My brothers, all except Van, refuse to lift their heads. Van, on the other hand, slowly raises his and sighs with a slight twitch of his lips.
I glance at my dad, his cheeks red from keeping it together.
After a second, he grabs his fork. “Well, she isn’t wrong.”
Laughter ensues around the table, which is the chorus of these dinners.
“Dad, what is that?” Beck points at the window behind my father.
As soon as my dad turns his head, a French fry sails through the air to land on Vivian’s plate. Her eyes light up, and she quickly gobbles it up before my dad notices.
“Knock it off,” Van snaps quietly to Beck.
He’s the youngest of my brothers, though still older than me, and Van can’t help but father him.
Beck rolls his eyes but then turns to Vivian and winks.
I take a bite of my salmon through a smile.
It’s taken some time, but things are finally back to normal. Or…semi-normal.
After Dad had his heart attack during the height of our most competitive season and gave us all the scare of a lifetime, we weren’t sure how things were going to be moving forward. He hasn’t been at the shop for the last several months, but our dynamic isn’t that much different from before—other than the fish, of course.
“Kids.” My dad puts his fork down on the table. “We need to talk.”
I freeze with a piece of asparagus dangling in front of my face.
Did I speak too soon?
Van nods in my father’s direction, and it’s obvious he knows something we don’t.
Graham runs a hand through his unruly dark hair. “What’s going on?”
The asparagus drops from my fork, just like my stomach. “Is it your heart again?”
My mom whispers something in Vivian’s ear. She nods excitedly, and they leave the table.
That means this is about Vanstone.
Shop talk.
“My heart will always be an issue, Tess.” My dad shoots me a half-hearted smile. “But there’s nothing new concerning it.”
A crease forms in between Noah’s eyebrows. “Then what’s going on?”
He was probably the most affected when Dad had his heart attack. One second, he was going over two hundred miles per hour on a street circuit, and the next, Van was urgently telling him to pit through the headset because our dad couldn’t breathe.
Silence settles over the table like some sort of warning. My spine stiffens with unease, and I brace myself for what’s coming next.
Van sits taller in his seat. “Dad is taking a step back to reduce the stress.”
