My mom laughs. "Fig, people don't hire bands for their graduation party."
"Yeah," Bartlett says, "we could just put on a playlist."
Fig frowns. "Everyone else in the family has gotten to have awesome parties lately. Why can't I have one?"
Prairie, Rye's wife, laughs. "I think you're going to have a big party when you get married, Fig."
"Well, that's never happening," she tosses back as she adds a heaping pile of parmesan cheese to her pasta.
"I'm not getting married either," Mac agrees.
I laugh at that. "Yeah, right. You'll come here to family dinner one night completely caught, hook, line, and sinker. I can see it now."
Mac smacks the table, laughing, "Like you should talk. What about you?"
I swallow, looking over at my little girl, worried.
Plum, though, smiles brightly. "I told Daddy he should fall in love with a princess and live happily ever after."
Everyone at the table laughs quietly. "Oh, yeah? And what did your dad think about that?" my sister Lemon asks.
Plum says, "Daddy said he thought that was a good idea and that everyone probably wants a princess, like Uncle Mac, Uncle Graham, and Auntie Fig. I guess you could all have a prince or a princess. I don't know. All I'm thinking is Daddy should live happily ever after too."
"I think your father's living pretty happily ever after with you, sweetie," my mom says, softening the mood.
Plum just shrugs though, dipping her breadstick in marinara. "Maybe," she says, "but it is springtime. Isn't that when love is in the air?"
My dad chuckles at that. "Plum, where do you get these ideas?"
She giggles. "I don't know. I think it's because I'm the only grandchild," she says, looking at her aunts and uncles. Everybody at the table erupts in laughter. And I wonder how my little girl got such a big personality.
Later, though, when everyone's hanging out in the living room, I find myself in the kitchen with my mom. She's putting on a kettle for a cup of tea. "You want one?" she asks.
I nod. "Sounds good." I open the pantry door and pull out a few tea bags and add them to mugs.
"So, Reuben," Mom says, "what was that about, what Plum was saying in there? That you need a princess."
"I don't know, Mom. She's a five-year-old girl. Her whole world is Disney movies and princesses and fairy tales."
"Do you want that?" Mom asks. She pours the hot water into the mugs and hands one to me.
"Mom, it's been four years."
"Yeah, exactly," Mom says, "four years. That's a long time, Reuben. You haven't gone on a single date."
"I've gone on a date," I say, cutting her off.
Mom laughs. "Going to a preschool auction with a neighbor you used to be friends with in childhood is not a date."
I chuckle. "And she was married. Her husband was just on deployment with the military."
"Exactly," Mom says, "that's not a date."
"Do I need a date?" I ask. "I'm happy with Plum. I have the best family in the world."
"I know," Mom says, "but your older brothers and sister, everybody's getting married. I don't want you to feel..."
"Mom," I say gently. “I feel content. I feel at peace. I feel..." My voice cracks, betraying the truth. "I don't know," I say. "I know everybody in this town. I'm not exactly going to uproot Plum. How would I meet someone anyways? I'm 23 years old and a widower. I've got a daughter; that's a lot."
"I know, baby," she says, "but maybe the right person will drive into town one day and sweep you off your feet."
Strangely my mind goes to that Rapunzel, her head out of the RV, her blonde hair waving in the air. "Maybe," I tell her. "In the meantime, I got a lot of good girls already: you, Lemon, Fig, my new sisters-in-law, and Plum."
Mom pats me on the back. "Okay. Okay. Enough of the talk from your mom. I'm not trying to lecture you."
"I know," I tell her. "It’s just your job to love me."
2
MEADOW
The best part of being in a traveling family band is that I constantly get to see new places, but the moment this caravan pulls into Home, Washington, I feel like, well, like I've come home.
It sounds a little cheesy, but it's true. This place is not real life. It's magical in the sweetest sort of way. It's like a little fairy tale. The sidewalks are clean. There's flowers everywhere. There's a tiny little diner, a hardware store. Everything is picturesque and perfect.
My sister, Lulu, who loves arriving in a new town, finds the place charming. "Ooh," she says, "look, there's even a tarot store. I'm definitely going there before we leave town."
I smile. "Well, we're here for a week," I tell her, "and we don't have to play a single concert."
She laughs. "I thought you loved playing and singing?"