ALLEGIANCE

Chapter 14: Two Years Later

One Sunday afternoon, the family gathered beneath the old oak tree in the backyard.

The barbecue sent ribbons of fragrant smoke curling into the warm California sky while Ethan stood proudly beside the grill, tongs in hand. Maria hovered over his shoulder with her arms folded, watching him with exaggerated suspicion.

"You're turning them too soon," she said.

Without looking up, Ethan lifted an eyebrow.

"I've been doing this for ten minutes."

"Exactly."

She nodded toward the chicken.

"And you've already flipped them three times."

He sighed dramatically. "I've had three months at an engineering firm. I know how to follow instructions."

Maria laughed. "Engineering instructions aren't barbecue instructions."

"They're instructions."

"They're completely different."

Margaret's laughter floated across the yard before either of them could continue.

"I've missed this," she said, wiping the corner of one eye. "The arguing."

"It's called intellectual discussion," Maria protested.

"It's called bothering your brother," Deborah corrected as she stepped onto the patio carrying a large wooden tray filled with roasted vegetables, warm bread, and bowls of salad.

Julian looked up immediately. Without a word, he crossed the patio and reached for the tray.

"Careful."

Before Deborah could protest, the weight had shifted from her arms to his. Julian set the tray carefully on the table before looking back at her.

"That's heavier than it looks." She let out a small laugh as they walked toward the table.

"You still do that."

He glanced sideways at her. "Do what?"

She smiled. "Notice."

For a moment, he seemed to think about it. Then a quiet smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"I suppose I always will."

Before Deborah could answer, Ethan's voice carried across the backyard.

"Deb! Tell her she's distracting the only chef we've got."

Maria turned toward him with exaggerated disbelief.

"The only chef?"

She pointed at Ethan with the barbecue fork.

"Last week you nearly burned toast."

"I was multitasking."

"You were watching football."

"I can do both."

"No, you proved you can't."

Another wave of laughter swept around the table. Deborah watched her sister for a moment.

College had changed Maria in ways no one could have predicted. She spoke with an ease that hadn't existed a few years earlier, slipping effortlessly from playful teasing to thoughtful conversations about novels, professors, and ideas she couldn't wait to explore.

The timid girl who once second-guessed every opinion had quietly grown into a young woman unafraid to share them. Across the patio, Ethan's phone buzzed against the table.

He glanced at the screen, read the message, and a smile spread across his face before he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Margaret noticed. "Good news?"

He nodded, trying and failing to hide the pride in his voice.

"They approved the bridge proposal."

"The one you've been working on?" Deborah asked.

"Yeah."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "They're actually going to build it."

Margaret's face softened with quiet pride.

"I knew they would."

Maria smiled at him. "I'll admit that's impressive."

Ethan looked at her suspiciously. "There's a 'but' coming."

"There is."

She grinned. "You still overcook chicken."

"I absolutely do not."

Julian chuckled. "I've learned it's safer not to argue with literature students."

Maria pointed at him triumphantly. "See? Someone understands."

"That's because he's smart," Ethan muttered.

"You're outnumbered," Deborah said, laughing.

The conversation drifted as easily as the afternoon breeze.

Maria spoke about an essay she had stayed awake half the night revising. Ethan complained about impossible deadlines at work before admitting he secretly enjoyed the challenge.

Margaret listened with quiet contentment, asking questions, laughing at the right moments, and occasionally reminding Ethan to stop sneaking pieces of chicken before lunch.

The conversation wandered from Ethan's bridge project to Maria's latest essay, then somehow to Margaret's insistence that Ethan still couldn't season chicken properly.

Laughter interrupted almost every sentence. Somewhere between the teasing and the stories, Deborah realized nearly an hour had passed without anyone mentioning hospitals. The words cancer, surgery, and remission never entered the conversation. They didn't need to.

The backyard filled instead with the scent of grilled vegetables and roasted chicken. Somewhere beyond the fence, a lawn mower hummed lazily through the neighborhood while birds called to one another from the rooftops.

Margaret leaned back in her chair and let her gaze settle on Julian turned her glass slowly between her hands.

"I've been trying to find the right words for two years."

Julian looked at her

"I still haven't found them." Margaret continued

Julian met her eyes. "You already have."

She frowned gently. "When?"

A warm smile touched his face."You invited me back."

Silence settled over the table—not uncomfortable, but full. Margaret looked around at the faces gathered beneath the old oak tree before her eyes returned to him.

"I suppose we did."

Ethan carried another platter toward the table and set it down with a grin.

"No," he said quietly.

"We kept inviting you." Julian looked at him, then at Maria, then at Deborah. Finally, his gaze settled on Margaret. For a brief moment, no one spoke. Words seemed unnecessary.

Above them, the evening breeze stirred the branches of the old oak tree until the wind chimes began to sing once more.

Two years earlier, that sound had echoed through a house filled with fear.

Now it floated above easy laughter, playful arguments, and the smell of dinner drifting across the backyard.

Deborah looked around the table.

Her mother was laughing.

Ethan was pretending not to lose an argument.

Maria was already planning her next one.

Julian sat quietly among them, smiling as though this ordinary afternoon was enough.

Deborah smiled too.

For the first time in years, tomorrow no longer felt like something to fear.