Chapter Text
The classroom still smelled like chalk and sunlight when Dolly wiped the board clean, the eraser leaving pale streaks across the worn green surface. The old rec room—now hers—had once been a place for bingo nights and birthdays parties, but she’d transformed it into something softer, warmer. A quiet hum of color lived here now, from hand-drawn posters lining the walls to the corner where children’s books overflowed from mismatched shelves. A painted wooden sign above the door read "Hands Speak Louder," and beside it hung a mobile made of carved horses and twine that Joel had made with the twins.
It was Friday afternoon, the end of her office hours, and the room had finally emptied. She tucked a few stray worksheets into a drawer and leaned against the desk with a sigh. The sun poured through the western windows, catching the edge of her engagement ring. The diamond was small, but it sparkled like it knew its worth, salvaged from a ring Joel had found on patrol two years ago, reset by hand into a twisted silver band he'd made himself. It was imperfect, beautiful. Just like them.
She turned her hand, watching the light flicker across the stone. Joel hadn’t asked with a big speech. He didn’t have to. He’d just slipped it onto her finger one quiet night while they were rocking the twins back to sleep, his eyes soft and tired. She smiled at the memory, thumb brushing the band.
It had been too much trying to keep the bar job after the twins started walking, talking, escaping their crib. She gave it up without regret. Teaching had slipped into her life like something she'd been waiting for all along. Mondays and Wednesdays were for new patrol teams , sign language essential to survival out there. Tuesdays and Thursdays, the schoolhouse kids walked over two by two, noisy and bright. When they weren’t learning sign, she read to them or sang, her voice laced in Southern drawl they adored. Fridays were slower, reserved for one-on-one sessions or anyone needing a little extra help. And now, with Sunday dinners moved to Friday nights, it gave her weekends back. Saturdays were hers and Joel’s. Sundays for rest and family time.
Every Saturday, they went on patrol together. Just the two of them. It wasn’t about duty anymore, it was time. Time away from the noise, the routines, the parenting. Time to be partners in the quiet way they knew best. Riding together, moving in sync, wordless and whole.
A thud at the door broke her thoughts.
“Mommy!” Dillion’s voice rang out, followed quickly by Daisy’s.
“Shit!”
Dolly turned, wide-eyed.
Joel stepped in behind them, his shirt dark with sweat, hands streaked with sawdust. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Ellie’s been teaching vocabulary again.”
Ellie appeared in the doorway, grinning and shameless. “It was contextually correct,” she said. “She dropped her juice cup.”
Dolly gave her a look, trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh.”
Joel crossed the room and kissed her forehead, then her mouth, slow and familiar. “Hey, darlin’.”
“Hey, yourself.” She looked him over, noting the grime. “You smell like cedar and sunburn.”
“New house out on the south border,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “They’re expanding faster than we can build.”
Jackson had grown more in the past year than anyone expected. New families. New homes. New problems. Joel and Tommy worked almost every day now, rebuilding, shaping the edges of the town into something steady. Reid and Jesse had taken over patrol duty officially about six months ago. Maria and Tommy still oversaw everything, of course, but the hands-on leadership had shifted.
The twins circled their legs like little satellites while Ellie chased Daisy with a crumpled paper crown. Dolly picked up her bag, and together they locked up the classroom. Joel carried Dillion on his hip, and the group walked across the square to Tommy and Maria’s.
Dinner smelled like rosemary and garlic before they even reached the porch. June and Mark were already inside, Mark play-wrestling Benji while June stirred something on the stove. Cora stood in the kitchen doorway, smiling as Elena dashed through her legs to hug Daisy. The two girls tumbled onto the rug, giggling in shrieks.
Cora had arrived nearly two years ago, quiet but self-assured. She was born Deaf, fluent and bright, and everyone naturally started signing around her. She fit into their family like she’d always been there.
Dolly scooped a piece of bread from the counter and joined June.
“Smells good.”
June winked. “Mark didn’t burn anything, so we’re calling it gourmet.”
The table was already crowded with mismatched plates and easy laughter. Joel set down Dillion and pulled out chairs while Maria washed up, cheeks flushed from the stove. Tommy handed out drinks like a bartender, and Benji passed out forks with an air of solemn responsibility.
Ellie slid into a seat beside Dolly. “How’s my patrol going?” she asked Joel casually, picking at the label on her bottle.
He glanced at her. “You’re doin’ good with me. Maybe a few more runs, we’ll move you over to Jesse’s team. But not ‘til I say so.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Sure. Gotta earn my stripes, right?”
Joel didn’t rise to the bait. Dolly caught the flash of tension between them, the way Ellie slouched deeper in her chair, something unreadable crossing her face.
Dolly smiled gently. “You’re doing great, Bug.”
Ellie shrugged. “Guess so.”
Later, as dinner wound down and the fireflies buzzed against the screen door, June lifted her glass. “So when’s the wedding?”
Dolly nearly choked on her sip.
Joel raised a brow, grinning.
“Oh my God, y’all,” Dolly said, laughing. “It’s only been a year.”
“A year since he moved in, or a year since he made it official?” Maria teased.
“Both,” Dolly said. “We’ve been busy.” She looked over at Joel and softened. “But we’ll get there.”
They shared a small kiss, one of those quiet, steady things that felt more real than any ceremony. The kind of love that had weathered everything and come out gentler.
Things hadn’t been perfect these past three years. They’d fought. They’d lost sleep. They’d stumbled. But they were better now. Stronger.
The cottage had become their home. Dolly’s little sanctuary had stretched to fit a whole family. Ellie had the downstairs room with the shelves she loved. The twins had shared their bed until last month when Daisy insisted she needed a reading nook and moved to the corner with the bookshelf.
Ellie was seventeen now, her bite scar long hidden beneath a burn mark and a tattoo that curled along her forearm, a moth and a fern, in deep black ink. Dolly had helped her design it. Kat had done the work just before she left Jackson. Ellie never talked about her, not anymore.
Dillion and Daisy had grown fast, both with wild brown hair and hazel eyes like melted gold. They talked nonstop now, Daisy louder, Dillion more careful. They were fire and stone. Ellie adored them both, though she’d never admit it out loud.
As the sun dipped below the rooftops and the porch lights blinked on, Dolly leaned into Joel’s side, his arm resting across her shoulders.
“Tell me we get to do this again next week,” she whispered.
“Every week,” he promised.
She believed him.
Even if something about Ellie’s silence lingered at the edge of her thoughts. Even if she sometimes caught Joel staring off a little too long.
For now, Jackson felt full. And for now, it was enough.