He squished his eyes shut, clamping down on the emotion that surged through him. She wasn’t wrong. “I know. But you can say the same thing about lots of other stuff. Driving even. Life’s full of risks and uncertainties.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t have to like it.” Her chin took on a stubborn tilt that he recognized from the reflection he saw in the mirror every morning. “And I’m not going to apologize for texting Linc.”
“Fair enough.” He hadn’t really expected her to, just as he hadn’t expected a congratulations for getting the call up to the smoke jumper team. But she was his mom, and she loved him, and she was dishing him up a huge portion of her famous stew, and right then it was enough. It had to be.
“You can set her in the playpen, you know.” May came into the dining area that adjoined the open kitchen where his mother was working, trailed by Junior, who had his ever-present bear in one hand. “I didn’t mean you had to hold her. You’re spoiling her.”
“Now, what good is an uncle if he can’t spoil the kids?” Trying to soften her up, he gave her his best smile as he carefully laid the sleeping baby in the nearby playpen so they could all eat, not about to admit that he’d kept a hold of the baby to calm himself down as much as any other reason. He loved all the nieces and nephews, always had, but there was something about baby Willow that put everything into perspective.
“You’re a good uncle.” May gave him a half smile, which was more than he’d earned in a few weeks from her. She got Junior settled at the table before grabbing two of the bowls Jacob’s mom had served up. “And thank you for cooking, Jenna. I feel bad that I didn’t help more—”
“Nonsense. You know I love cooking for my kids. The more the merrier, and I love having you here.”
May and her kids had moved in with his mom back in September, while May was waiting for the life insurance to clear and trying to decide what to do next. The plan for staying for a few weeks had turned into months, and Jacob knew his mom was hoping they continued to stay on with her.
“Speaking of a full house, what do you want for your birthday next Sunday?” he asked his mom as she joined them at the table with her own bowl and a basket of rolls. He wanted to get the conversation away from his first day at training, especially with May there.
“I’m not sure it feels right, having a party...” she demurred.
“You deserve one,” he said firmly. “You said it yourself that you’re happiest with a big gathering. Let us do that for you.”
“Grandma needs a party! We can have cake!” Junior piped up from his spot next to May.
“Well...”
“Wyatt would want it,” May said softly, studying her stew. “You know he loved a party as much as you. Let’s get the other kids here, maybe a few of your friends. Fill the house.”
“Yeah.” His throat tightened at the mention of Wyatt, but May was right. “I’ll help, come over early, help clean, do whatever you need done.”
“I can order the cake,” May offered. “A nice big sheet cake from that place in Sisters you love, Jenna.”
“I can tell when I’m outnumbered.” His mom laughed, a more world-weary sound than usual, but welcome nonetheless. “I guess we’re having a party.”
“Yup. Now what are we cooking?” He kept them on party planning for a while, deciding which of his mom’s favorite party foods to serve, and going over who to invite and what to plan to keep the younger kids busy.
“We need to invite Lincoln,” his mom said as May took notes for a to-do list.
“Of course.” May didn’t stop writing, but his mom looked at him like he was supposed to add something.
“What? Sure. Invite Linc.” It wasn’t like he could protest. The guy had been included in every major family event that they could drag him to for years and years.
“You need to ask him. I feel bad, asking him to talk you out of going today. Especially with things already...strained. He needs to know there are no hard feelings.”
He sighed rather than rattle off a retort that maybe she should have thought of that before she texted. “Just call him. You know he loves you. He’ll come if he’s free.”
It went without saying that Linc had turned down more invitations than he’d accepted in the past year, but pointing that out would bring up all sorts of issues better left unexamined.
“I will, but still you should ask him. Tomorrow at training. He’ll be less likely to come up with an excuse if you ask him in person.” His mom might be one of the nicest people in the area, but she could be downright commanding when she wanted to be.