“I’m going to be working on the farm all day,” I tell her. We’ve just entered the busiest month of the year for us, and I know we’ll get a lot of people coming in to cut their own tree. The self-service aspect of the farm is what makes most of its charm, according to clients. “But you can come with me.”

Her jaw shifts.

“If you want, that is,” I add. The last time I brought her to the farm to show her around, she seemed to have fun. It’s always hard to tell with her, but I’m pretty sure I heard her laugh a time or two, so I’d say that counted as a win.

It takes a while for her to give me an answer. She does that often. As if she always needs to think carefully about what she’s going to say. Maybe that’s the lawyer in her that wants to make sure she never says the wrong thing.

In the end though, she gives me the answer I wanted.

“Sure, okay. Thanks.”

I grin. I should be the one thanking her. Working on the land is one thing, but waiting around for people to show up and buy trees is pretty boring. I always love having company.

“Can I come too?” Callie asks from her spot on the floor.

I lift an eyebrow. “Tú nunca me quieres ayudar.” You never want to help me.

With a lift of her chin, she says, “Bueno pues hoy si.” Well, today I want to.

She then turns to Wren and says, “Maybe we can bring Molly too?”

That makes Wren light up, a true, bright smile on her lips. “I think she’d like that.”

“Okay, now time to eat,” Ma says as she brings a pan full of eggs and salchichón. I get up and help her bring the rest of the breakfast to the table.

“Where’s Dad?” I ask.

“Still in the bedroom,” Ma says. “Why don’t you go tell him breakfast’s ready?”

With a stiff bob of my neck, I nod.

“Do you need help?” Wren asks me, already halfway to her feet.

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

It’s embarrassing enough that I’m avoiding him. I don’t need her thinking I need help to go get my own father.

I turn and head to my parents’ room, which we moved to the guest room on the first floor after his accident. When I’m not here, there’s no way for Ma to help him up, and while he can walk with his walker, there’s no way he could climb stairs. Hopefully, all the physical therapy he’s in will allow him to one day, but we’re not there yet.

As soon as I walk into the room, Dad’s head jerks up from his spot in bed, then he tries to help himself up.