“Bet,” Sanders fires back. I still don't even know what the response, "bet" is, but it's become one of Sanders's go-tos lately. That and "actually" in response to anything unbelievable.
Their shared language makes me smile. Even with the pallor in Luke’s cheeks, even with the dialysis port peeking from his sleeve, his spark is still there.
"Hot cocoa for everyone?" Woody suggests, catching my eye across the table.
"With extra whipped cream," we both add in unison.
Sanders grins. "You guys sound like you practiced that."
Heat creeps up my neck. We didn't practice. We just remembered. Seven years of separate lives, but some rhythms remain unbroken.
After we order, Carly clears her throat. “I think I already told y’all, but Luke will need dialysis tomorrow after the show. Thanks to Woody, we’ve got an appointment at noon. GMA said we’ll be done by ten-thirty, so that gives us time to get across town. We’ll be tied up until at least three, if all goes smoothly.”
My brain clicks straight into logistics mode. “Right. Iknew y’all were planning that after the show. Why don’t you let Woody take the boys, and you, me, and Leigh can have a girls’ afternoon shopping and doing girls' things? What do you say, Woody?”
Woody glances at me, like he’s not sure where this came from. But he doesn’t push back. Instead, he nods. “Yeah. That’s a great idea. We’ll meet you once we’re done.”
I only feel a little guilty for volunteering him. More than that, my chest swells that he stepped in so easily.
“Then it’s settled.” I glance at the kids, huddled over my phone, laughing at something only they understand. “Shopping and dessert for the girls, YouTube and TikTok for the boys after our morning at Studio C.”
Carly nods, cutting into her sandwich. “That’ll be good. Luke usually feels wrung out after dialysis. Sometimes he just wants to curl up, but other times, if he’s had a decent morning, he perks back up.”
Woody sets down his coffee mug. “We’ll play it by ear. Sanders will keep him entertained either way.” His eyes flick toward me, maybe looking for validation.
“So after the clinic,” I say, “should we plan a couple of contingency things?”
Carly hesitates, then nods. “Maybe something light. The Empire State Building tour, if Luke feels up to it. Or the Lego Store. Or just milkshakes around the corner."
"Yeah," I say. "If he’s wiped, we’ll hole up at the hotel and let him rest, and maybe we can all watch a movie or something.”
“That works,” Woody says. “We’ll see how he feels and decide then.”
“And Friday?” I ask, glancing between them.
“That one we can set in stone,” Carly says. “Hudson Park for the Statue of Liberty views. Bothof my kids are dying to go see her with their own eyes, but we don't need to ferry to Staten Island.”
“And the 9/11 Museum,” Woody adds. "I've heard it's a must-see when you're here."
Carly’s eyes brighten. “Perfect. The kids should see it. Heavy, yes, but important.”
The plates arrive, the clatter cutting through the moment. Conversation shifts, but the plan lingers. Behind Woody, the kids argue over French fries like they aren’t about to be on national television at dawn.
"You know what you need for Christmas?" Woody turns around and tells Sanders, stealing one of his fries. "Ice skates of your own. The way you took to the ice today was impressive."
Sanders beams. "Mom fell three times."
"Thanks for that reminder.” I roll my eyes, but can't stop smiling.
"I caught you every time, didn't I?" Woody's voice is quiet, meant just for me.
Something flutters in my chest. I choke it back, trying to play it cool.
Leigh walks over to our table and sits beside her mom. "Can we see the big tree tomorrow? On our girls' day?"
"If Ms. Beamer is up for going over there again," Carly says, taking a napkin from her lap to wipe ketchup from her chin.
"Absolutely. I wanted to get a coffee from the Caviar & Bannans right there, and the boys wouldn't let me. I'd love to go back over there tomorrow, see the tree, do some shopping, and get some delicious sweet treats."
