“No. Do you have extras? I forgot to get groceries last night.” Madigan hugged her and grabbed a cookie from the white plate on the counter, which indicated cookies made with real sugar. Her grandfather was supposed to watch his sugar intake, so her mother baked sugar-free treats for him and always put them on blue plates.

Her father took her hand, tugging her closer as he tapped his cheek. “Lay some sugar on me, sweetheart. Then you can sit down and enjoy your mama’s lemon chicken.”

“Hi, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek. “How are you, Grandpa?”

“I could be better. Get in here.” He opened his arms, and as he hugged her, he whispered, “I’ll give you five bucks for that cookie.”

“I would if I could, but I don’t need to get yelled at tonight.”

“Who raised you to be so weak?”

Her grandfather winked, but she knew he was only half-kidding. He’d always been a bit of a curmudgeon with an authoritative craggy voice that even now, with his aging body, face mapped with wrinkles, gray hair, thin lips, and blue-gray eyes, made him seem bigger than life. Madigan adored him, and she didn’t blame him for his disgruntled attitude. She’d be upset too if her body began failing her and people monitored her every move. She’d had a hard enough time readjusting to her protective family after she’d moved back home.

“Pop, that’s enough,” her father said.

“I could give him half,” Madigan suggested just as her grandfather shot out a hand, stealing the entire cookie from her, and shoved it into his mouth.

“Damn it, old man.” Her father shook his head. “We’re trying to keep you healthy.”

Her grandfather grumbled something indiscernible and waved a hand dismissively as her mother set a full plate of food and silverware in front of Madigan and took a seat between the two men, stifling a laugh.

“You’ve got a death wish, and I’m not ready for you to leave this earth yet,” her father said to her grandfather. “I’m not done giving you hell.”

“Listen here, son. It’s bad enough I’m living these years without the woman I have loved since I was seventeen years old,” her grandfather said. Madigan’s grandmother had passed away several years ago. “You take away my sugar, and what’ve I got left?”

“You’ve got me,” Madigan chimed in, putting her hand on his. “I moved back home so I could see you more.”