Ross turned sharply toward the studio window.
She continued.
“I’d like to dedicate a song to my dad.”
I looked toward Ross.
His eyes had filled.
“Any particular song?”
Jillian thought for a moment.
“Something happy.”
I smiled.
“What’s the occasion?”
She hesitated.
Then said, “He’s at work.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then she added, “On time.”
Ross covered his face with one hand.
Abby looked toward the ceiling, blinking rapidly.
I took a breath.
“That’s a good reason.”
Jillian laughed softly.
Then said, “Tell him we’re proud he’s trying.”
I looked toward my brother.
His shoulders were shaking slightly.
I smiled.
“I think he heard you.”
She laughed again.
Then we ended the call.
I played the next song.
While the music filled the studio, Ross sat quietly with his hands resting on the call log.
For a moment, he looked like the older brother who had once taught me how to ride a bicycle.
The boy who used to make up games in our backyard.
The teenager who could make everybody laugh.
I remembered that brother.
And I hoped there was still enough of him left to rebuild something honest.
Several months later, Tasha and I got married.
The ceremony was small and warm.
Calvin stood beside me in a suit he’d insisted on choosing himself.
Molly walked down the aisle carrying flowers.
She looked so proud that I had to look away for a moment to keep from crying.
Mom and Dad were there.
So were Allison and the children.
Ross attended quietly.
He didn’t make speeches.
He didn’t try to turn the occasion into a joke.
After the ceremony, he approached me while Tasha was speaking with her mother.
“Dwayne?”
I turned.
“Yeah?”
He looked toward Calvin and Molly.
Then back at me.
“I owe them an apology.”
I took a breath.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I’ve talked to Calvin a little. Molly still seems nervous around me.”
I looked toward my daughter.
She was laughing with Jillian near the cake table.
I took a moment before answering.
“Then don’t ask her to make you feel better about what happened.”
Ross looked down.
I continued.
“Just keep showing her she matters.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, “I’m sorry, Dwayne.”
I looked at him.
I believed he meant it.
But I also knew that apologies were only the beginning.
“Thank you.”
He reached for my hand.
I took it.
Then pulled him into a hug.
It felt strange.
We hadn’t hugged in months.
For several seconds, we simply stood there.
Then Ross stepped back.
“Congratulations, little brother.”
I smiled.
“Thanks.”
He looked toward Tasha.
“She’s good for you.”
I laughed softly.
“She’s better than good.”
Ross smiled.
Then walked toward the reception tables.
I watched him go.
I didn’t know whether our relationship would ever return to what it had been before New Year’s Eve.
In some ways, I hoped it wouldn’t.
The old relationship had depended on me trusting him without asking questions and him treating my generosity as something he could spend freely.
I wanted something better.
A relationship where we could disagree honestly.
Where money was handled carefully.
Where our children knew they belonged.
And where being family meant more than sharing a last name.
That summer, we invited everyone to our house for a cookout.
Nothing extravagant.
Burgers.
Corn.
Watermelon.
A folding table in the backyard.
Calvin helped me set up the grill.
Molly arranged little paper decorations along the table.
Tasha made lemonade.
Jillian came with her brother.
Allison arrived shortly afterward.
Ross brought a large bowl of potato salad.
When he stepped into the backyard, Molly looked toward him.
For a moment, she seemed uncertain.
Then Jillian took her hand.
“Come on. We’re going to play cards.”
Molly smiled.
They hurried toward the patio.
Ross watched them.
His expression softened.
Then he looked at me.
“She’s doing better.”
I nodded.
“She is.”
He looked down.
“I’m glad.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked where he should put the potato salad.
I pointed toward the table.
“Anywhere.”
He smiled.
“Anywhere?”
I laughed.
“Yeah, Ross. Anywhere.”
That afternoon, people moved between the kitchen and backyard.
Dad helped Calvin with the grill.
Mom sat beside Tasha discussing flowers.
The children played games.
And for a while, the gathering felt like the kind of family celebration I’d hoped the New Year’s party would be.
At one point, Lamar arrived with his wife.
I’d invited them personally.
He carried a little container of homemade cookies.
Molly hurried toward him.
“Mr. Lamar!”
He smiled.
“Hello, young lady.”
She hugged him.
His wife handed her the cookies.
“For you and Calvin.”
Molly looked delighted.
I stood beside them watching.
For a moment, I remembered the voicemail.
The elderly man’s careful voice.
The unknown number I’d ignored during the broadcast.
The words that told me my children were safe.
I reached for Lamar’s hand.
“Thank you again.”
He smiled.
“Dwayne, you already thanked me.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
He looked toward the children.
Then said quietly, “They were good kids. Just needed somewhere warm to wait.”