~5~
Martin sat at the head of the table, looking upon the spread his wife and daughter had prepared with a proud smile. "I know I say this every year, but you've outdone yourself this year, Pilar."
"I DID help, Papa," Paloma pretended to be offended.
"She didn't even burn the rolls!" Marty exclaimed, setting off laughter around the room, Maria's being especially infectious.
"Marty," Sheridan admonished between bouts of laughter.
"But she always burns the rolls," Marty replied, unperturbed.
"I do," Paloma admitted with a giggle. "Mama made the rolls this year, Papa."
"I knew it," Martin grinned to himself.
"Papa!" Paloma tried to shame her father, to no avail.
"Grandpa," Maria spoke up, raising herself up on her knees, "I want to say grace this year. Can I?"
"May I?" Kay corrected her daughter. "Maria, sit down."
"May I?" Maria asked, clasping her hands in front of herself, and batting her baby blues at her grandfather.
Kay rolled her eyes and nudged Maria again, until she sat back down in her seat, her feet dangling over the chair's edge.
"Yes, Maria," Martin bestowed the honor upon his eldest granddaughter. "You may."
"Yay!" Maria squealed, clapping her hands excitedly.
"Wait," Marty cried, "we can't say grace without Papa."
Sheridan stared at the empty plate in front of her, guilt making it difficult to look into the eyes of the people around her, Luis's family.
"Mi hijo," Pilar began uncomfortably, "I don't think…"
A door opened and shut, and the sensation of cool autumn air whispering against her cheeks had Sheridan raising her head.
"Am I too late?" Luis's dark eyes burned into Sheridan's soul, stealing her breath.
"No, Papa," Marty beamed, patting the vacant seat beside him, "you're just in time."
Thanks for reading!