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𝐓𝐇𝐄 sun filtered softly through the gauzy curtains of the kitchen windows. Missie sat at the table in her robe, a fresh mug of coffee cradled between her hands. The silence was different now—less hollow. The ache hadn't gone, but it had softened, like a bruise that no longer throbbed at the slightest touch.

Missie stared at the steam rising from her mug, her thoughts drifting. Jack's face was still vivid in her mind, his voice echoing through her soul. Let your heart open again.

The sound of footsteps broke the quiet. Brooke appeared first, eyes still heavy with sleep, followed by Whitney, Kaitlin, Farrah, and Mason "Hey, Mom," she murmured, padding toward the fridge. "You're up early."

"I could say the same for all of you," Missie replied, her voice hoarse but laced with warmth.

"I smelled coffee," Whitney said with a small smile as she moved to the cupboard to grab mugs. "And maybe I didn't sleep great."

"Yeah, well, someone was snoring like a freight train," Kaitlin said, nudging Mason with her elbow as she sat down at the table. "We heard him from Brooke's room."

Mason rolled his eyes. "That was not me."

Farrah took a seat next to Kaitlin. "If it wasn't you genius, then who was it? Casper the Ghost?"

Whitney took a seat next to Brooke, "You okay this morning, Aunt Missie? After last night?"

Missie nodded slowly. "Better, I think. Talking to you all helped."

Farrah tilted her head. "Do you think maybe uncle Jack visiting you was his way of giving you permission?"

"To do what?" Missie asked softly.

"To live," Farrah replied. "To feel again."

Missie looked down into her mug, her voice growing distant, threaded with memory. "You know, after Jack died... every time I turned on the radio, I'd hear this one song. Over and over again. Keith Whitley's Homecoming '63."

Brooke's brow lifted. "I don't think I know that one."

Missie smiled wistfully. "It was the first song we ever listened to together. After our first date, he took me to the Riverwalk, then drove through the backroads of Canaryville. We came up to the scenic overlook, when that song came on. He reached over and turned it up. Said it was his favorite, and he admired Keith Whitley. I wasn't a country fan, but there was something about Keith. We agreed it would be our song.'"

Whitney's eyes shimmered. "That's so romantic."

"He used to hum it when he was driving," Missie continued. "At night, he would hold me close and sing it to me. And then... after he was gone, I couldn't escape it. It was everywhere. In the car, the grocery store, waiting rooms. I'd hear the first few notes and just break down."

"Like he was sending it to you," Kaitlin whispered.

Missie nodded. "I hated it at first. It felt cruel. Like someone pressing on a bruise I wasn't ready to acknowledge. But now?" She looked up, eyes shimmering. "Now it's a message. Every time I hear it, I remember him—young, grinning, tapping the steering wheel, singing to me like I was the only girl in the world."

Farrah reached over and took her hand. "I hope someone looks at me like that one day."

"They will." Missie said softly. "But that kind of love—it doesn't come with fireworks or drama. It shows up slow, steady. Like a song you don't realize you've memorized until the moment it starts playing again."

Just then, the kitchen phone rang—cutting through the emotion like a gentle breeze through curtains.

Missie turned in surprise and stood slowly to answer. "Hello?"

"Hey... Missie?" Johnny's voice came through the other line.

"Johnny?" Missie's voice caught

"Sorry to call this early." Johnny said. 

Missie's eyes flicked to the kids at the table. All five were trying very hard to look uninterested while blatantly eavesdropping.

"That's okay. I was just having coffee with the kids." Missie said, her voice soft.

"Oh. I don't wanna interrupt." Johnny said

"You're not," Missie said, smiling just a little. "What's on your mind?"

"If you're free later, you want to grab dinner with me? Nothing fancy. We can go to Sal's." Johnny said. "Just like old times."

Missie's hand tightened around the receiver. Her heart beat fast—frightening and exciting all at once. She remembered Jack's words in the dream. Let your heart open again.

"You asking me on a date?" Missie said

"Yeah, maybe I am." Johnny said

"Sure, I'd like that." Missie smiled

"Yeah?" Johnny's voice lit up just a little.

"Yeah," Missie whispered. "Dinner sounds nice."

"All right then, I'll pick you up at 7." Johnny smiled 

"I'll be here." Missie smiled, hanging up the phone, then turned to her children and nieces, who were grinning, brows raised. "Johnny asked me out."

Whitney leaned forward, eyes wide. "Wait—tonight?"

Missie nodded, a little dazed. "Yes. Tonight."

Farrah let out a soft squeal and bounced in her seat. "This is huge, Aunt Missie. Like, major milestone huge."

Missie gave a nervous laugh, clutching her mug with both hands. "I feel like I'm seventeen again. Except seventeen-year-old me didn't have laugh lines and two kids."

Brooke scooted closer on the couch and laid a hand on her mom's arm. "You're going to be okay. Better than okay."

"Seriously," Kaitlin said. "You're not doing anything wrong by letting yourself be happy again."

Whitney nodded, her tone gentler now. "Uncle Jack would want this for you. He really would."

"I don't know," Missie murmured. "It's been so long. I don't even know who I am outside of being... someone's widow. Or someone's mom."

Farrah reached over and took her hand. "You're still you, Aunt Missie. Just... discovering a new part."

Brooke gave her a quiet smile. "You're allowed to live, Mom. To laugh. To have butterflies."

Missie blinked fast, swallowing hard. Her smile returned, small and shaky—but real. "I'm scared."

"That's okay," Whitney said. "We'll hold the net. You just take the leap."

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Missie stood in front of her bedroom mirror, the late afternoon light slanting in golden through the curtains. White capri pants hugged her legs, paired with a soft baby pink blouse that brought out the warmth in her complexion. A pair of silver Manolo flats graced her feet. Her hair was pinned loosely, a few curls escaping to frame her face. She reached for the bottle of J'Adore perfume and spritzed it lightly on her pulse points.

The door creaked open behind her.

Brooke stepped in first, barefoot on the carpet, her voice gentle. "Mom... you look beautiful."

Missie paused, her fingers hovering near her earring tray. She met her daughter's eyes in the mirror. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Whitney, Kaitlin, and Farrah followed behind, their expressions lit with admiration.

"That pink totally matches your skin tone, Aunt Missie," Whitney said with a bright smile. "You're radiant."

"Glowing," Farrah agreed, stepping closer. "Like... full-on romance novel cover, but classy."

"Thank you, girls." Missie smiled warmly.

Brooke picked up a brush and gently tucked a curl behind Missie's ear. "You're welcome, Ma."

Whitney sifted through Missie's jewelry box and held up a pair of delicate earrings. "These. Simple, elegant—just enough sparkle to catch the light."

Farrah adjusted the blouse slightly at the shoulders. "There. Now it looks effortlessly perfect."

Kaitlin handed over a soft pink lip gloss. "This is the best Chanel one. Trust me."

Missie looked back at her reflection. Her smile faltered. "I don't know if I'm ready."

Brooke wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her cheek on her mother's shoulder. "You don't have to be. You just have to show up."

"And maybe let yourself have fun," Whitney added, gently tilting Missie's bracelet.

"Or at least have dessert," Farrah said with a grin. "No one should be emotionally vulnerable and skip the cake—or the cherry pie."

"You've always been brave, Aunt Missie," Kaitlin said softly, taking her hand. "Tonight, you just get to be a little bold, too."

Missie blinked fast, emotion rising in her chest. Then, with a quiet laugh, she murmured, "I haven't been this nervous since I went out with Johnny for the first time... back in '84."

The girls smiled, the air turning tender.

"You've got this," Brooke whispered.

The doorbell rang downstairs, cutting through the moment. All five turned toward the sound.

Missie stepped into the hallway and made her way down the stairs, the quiet click of her flats the only sound in the foyer. She paused at the door, took a breath, and opened it.

Johnny stood there, dressed in dark jeans and a crisp navy button-up, the sleeves rolled casually to his forearms. His hair was neatly combed, though still slightly tousled at the front.

"Wow," Johnny said, his gaze lingering. "You look beautiful, Missie."

Missie smiled, her heart thudding in a way that both terrified and thrilled her. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself."

Before another word could pass, Brooke and the others appeared in the foyer behind her.

"Hi, Johnny!" Brooke greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hey, Johnny," Whitney added, stepping up beside her cousin.

"Don't you look fancy," Kaitlin teased lightly, arms crossed and one brow raised in mock judgment.

Farrah stepped forward, nodding with approval. "Nice shirt. Bold move going with navy. Respect."

Johnny chuckled. "Hi girls. Good to see you."

"We have to get things ready for fashion week, but you two have an amazing time." Brooke smiled

Missie turned and gave them a look. "Be good."

"Be bold!" Kaitlin called.

"Be kissed!" Whitney added without missing a beat.

"Whitney Grace!" Missie yelped, laughing despite herself.

As the door shut behind her, the girls rushed toward the sidelight window, pressing their faces to the glass.

Johnny gave them a sideways glance. "They're worse than black belts."

Missie slipped her arm through his, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You have no idea."

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

El Coyote was buzzing with the scent of sizzling fajitas, citrusy margaritas, and salsa music humming in the background. Missie and Johnny walked in, and waited patiently in line before being escorted to a cozy table near the center of the restaurant.

Johnny pulled out her chair like a gentleman, and Missie gave him a grateful smile as they sat down. The hostess handed them menus.

"What can I get you two started with to drink?" she asked cheerfully.

"I'll have a margarita, please," Missie said with a warm smile.

"I'll have a Coors Banquet," Johnny added without hesitation.

"Okay, I'll have those right out for you," the hostess said.

"I've been craving Mexican food for a while now," Missie said, looking at the menu.

"You sure this is okay?" Johnny asked. "We can go somewhere else if you want."

"This is fine, don't worry." Missie smiled.

Johnny leaned back a little in his seat. "How's the museum going?"

"It's going great, actually," Missie said, setting her menu down. "We just opened a new exhibit on contemporary West Coast painters—it's drawing a good crowd. Lots of students and collectors. It's been busy, but a good kind of busy. There's always something new coming in, some artist I'd never heard of surprising me."

Johnny nodded with a half-smile. "Sounds like it fits you. You were always good at bringing color to things."

Missie laughed quietly. "Thanks. What about the dojo?"

"It's going good," Johnny said. "They're good kids. A few of 'em really have something."

"I'm glad," Missie smiled

Johnny looked at her with a touch of warmth. "Your kids and your nieces—they're good kids. You can see it in how they carry themselves."

Missie smiled, genuinely touched. "Thank you. That means a lot." She took a sip of her margarita. "Mason just sold a house in Beverly Hills, huge place."

"Damn," Johnny said, eyebrows raised. "That's impressive."

"And the girls—Brooke, Whitney, Kaitlin, and Farrah—they're flying to New York next week for Fashion Week. Some of their designs will be on the runway. The girls and I are going."

"They inherited the creative gene from you." Johnny said

Missie chuckled. "Maybe. They've definitely got their own style. It's wild seeing them chase their dreams like that."

Johnny smiled, but his smile soon disappeared as he saw Daniel and Amanda walk into the restaurant. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"What is it?" Missie questioned, as she turned her head to the side. "John, please don't start."

The hostess showed Daniel and Amanda to their table, which happened to be the table next to where Missie and Johnny were sitting. Daniel scoffed as he looked at the blonde. In order to try and break the tension, Missie smiled and greeted the couple.

"Hey you two!" Missie smiled. "Love the earrings Amanda."

"Oh, thank you!" Amanda smiled as she embraced the brunette. "How are the girls and Mason?"

"They're fine." Missie smiled

"Hey Missie." Daniel smiled, then turned to the waitress. "Do you have any other tables?"

"Sorry, we're completely booked." the hostess said. "We might have some standing room at the bar."

Amanda leaned in and whispered, "No more."

"Is this table going to be okay?" the hostess asked

Daniel sighed as he then turned to look at Johnny. "I don't know, will it?"

Missie looked at Johnny, giving him a look. Johnny turned and looked at Missie before finally giving in with a nod. "It'll be fine." he sighed.

"Do you two know each other?" the hostess said.

"They have warring karate dojos, and that's our best friend with him." Amanda said. "I'll take a cadillac margarita, big glass."

As the drinks arrived, the table sat in a delicate silence.

"For this table, we've got a margarita and a Coors Banquet," the waitress said.

Daniel glanced at Johnny's beer. "What, got something to say?"

"No, nothing, Johnny. Enjoy your Coors," Daniel said with a smirk.

Johnny leaned toward Missie. "So did I tell you I had to double the classes at Cobra Kai? So many kids wanna join my dojo."

"Wow, that's wonderful," Missie beamed. "I'm so proud of you, Johnny."

"I love how passionate my students are. Sure, there may not be as many, but they've got heart," Daniel interjected.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Ah. Okay. So this is happening."

"I'm just saying—it's not quantity, it's quality," Daniel added.

"No, bigger is better," Johnny shot back. Missie sighed and rested her forehead in her hand.

"Are you two done comparing class sizes?" Amanda asked, exasperated.

"So, how are the kids?" Missie asked. "Sam told the girls about her breakup with Miguel. I hate that they had to go through that."

"Same," Daniel said, more gently.

"I remember all the dating drama in high school," Amanda said with a laugh. "I was boy crazy—felt like I was with a different guy every week."

"You know," Missie said, "why don't we push the tables together?"

"No, no, that's not a good idea," Johnny said quickly.

"That is a great idea," Amanda countered, already flagging down the waitress. "Would you mind if we combined our tables?"

"Not at all," the waitress smiled.

As Johnny and Daniel resumed glaring at each other over menus, Amanda and Missie struck up an easy conversation.

"So, Brooke told me she was getting ready for fashion week with Whit, Kait, and Fairy." Amanda smiled. "And Mason told me about his sale on a house in Beverly Hills."

Missie smiled as she swirled her straw in her drink. "Yes. I tell you, I'm so proud of them. How's the dealership? Still kicking the competition?"

Amanda laughed. "Yes."

"You made a lot of money off that illegal kick," Johnny muttered.

"Johnny." Missie said

"You're just jealous I can get my leg that high," Daniel smirked.

"Oh yeah? Want to step into the parking lot and see whose leg goes higher?" Johnny challenged.

"Seriously?" Daniel scoffed.

The waitress returned. "Have you all decided?"

Missie smiled. "I'll have one enchilada and one tamale, rice and beans—no red sauce, please. Cheese sauce on the enchilada."

Amanda ordered next, but Johnny leaned in. "You sure you don't wanna write that down?"

"I got it," the waitress assured him.

Daniel raised a brow. "You sure?" the waitress nodded. "I'll have the exact same thing—except with corn," Daniel added.

Johnny closed the order. "Pollo tacos. Hard shell. No green stuff."

Missie chuckled at that.

"Ten-to-one they mess it up," Daniel muttered.

"Excuse me, I'm gonna use the powder room," Missie said, standing with a smile.

"I'll join you," Amanda said quickly.

"Don't leave me alone," Johnny whispered.

"No, you should stay. No—honey," Daniel tried to protest, but the women were already gone.

When they returned a few minutes later, the tension at the table had shifted.

"Did we miss anything?" Missie asked as she sat down.

"No," Johnny and Daniel said in unison.

"Johnny, I was going to tell you—Robby's going to West Valley," Amanda said, dipping a chip into salsa.

"He is?" Johnny asked. "How?"

"We enrolled him. That's the rule. You stay with us, you go to school," Daniel said firmly.

"Good. He never should've dropped out."

"Finally, something we agree on," Daniel replied. "Robby's too smart for that."

Their food arrived shortly after, but as Missie inspected her plate, her smile faded.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Missie said gently. "I asked for no red sauce."

"Oh—sorry. Let me fix that," the waitress said sheepishly.

"Told you," Daniel said. "Why not write it down? Rookie mistake."

"White belt," Johnny teased, and Daniel laughed. Amanda and Missie shared a look, amused.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

"He smeared blueberry pie on my shirt!" Johnny laughed, a few drinks later.

"That's because you put it on my chair! You're leaving out details!" Daniel fired back.

"No, I saw the whole thing John." Missie giggled. "You put the blueberry pie in his seat. Should we get another round?"

"I don't know," Johnny smirked. "Last time I went four rounds with LaRusso, I caught a foot to the face."

Salsa music began to play. Amanda lit up. "I love salsa night!"

"May I have this dance?" Daniel asked, rising to his feet.

"You may," Amanda said with a grin as they walked toward the dance floor.

At the table, Missie set down her drink. She turned to Johnny with a playful smile. "Let's go dance."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not a dancer."

"Shut up. I know you can dance." Missie laughed, standing and reaching for his hand. "Come on. I'll teach you."

Johnny gave the brunette a soft smile before slipping his hand into hers. She led him to the dance floor, and he chuckled. "Since when do you dance salsa?"

Missie grinned as they took their place. "Beth used to drag Kathy, Lana, and I out for drinks and dancing." 

Johnny looked over at Daniel, who was already spinning Amanda with ease. "Tell anyone, and you're dead," he warned with mock seriousness.

Missie laughed softly, sensing Johnny's nerves. She gently took both his hands, grounding him.
"See? You've already got the rhythm," she said reassuringly.

Johnny smirked. "Of course I can dance."

"Then don't worry about him," Missie said, nodding toward Daniel. "Focus on me, okay?"

Missie laced her fingers with his and began to guide him. "This is the basic salsa step. Forward, together. Back, together—"

"Damn it," Johnny muttered, glancing down at his feet.

"Hey, when you're in a fight, do you look down?" Missie asked

"No." Johnny said

"Exactly. You always look into their eyes." Missie said

With that, Johnny loosened up. He spun Missie, who lit up with a grin. The music swirled around them, and he pulled her in close, their eyes locked. She smiled brightly as he spun her again, their connection undeniable.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Later that night, Johnny walked Missie to her doorstep, both of them still buzzing from the dance. Missie turned to face him. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The quiet hung gently between them.

"Thanks for tonight," she said softly.

"Thanks for saying yes," Johnny replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. "You, uh... you looked really happy out there. On the dance floor."

"I was," Missie said, her eyes warm. "It felt good. Like I could breathe again."

There was a pause before he leaned in, not rushing—just close enough for her to choose. Missie met him halfway, her lips brushing his gently in a kiss that was soft, unhurried, and deeply familiar. When they pulled apart, their foreheads lingered close, breath mingling in the cool night.

"I should go in," Missie said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Johnny said. "I'll see you soon."

Missie smiled and nodded. "I'll see you soon." she smiled as she opened the front door and walked inside.

Missie closed the front door behind her, leaning against it for just a second as a soft smile lingered on her lips. But the moment she turned around, four pairs of eyes were locked on her like lasers.

Brooke sat cross-legged on the couch, her chin resting in her hand. Whitney sprawled out across the loveseat, trying—and failing—not to grin. Kaitlin had a bowl of popcorn in her lap and zero shame about eavesdropping. And Farrah, the youngest of the crew, was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Well, well, well," Brooke said, arching an eyebrow. "Look who's glowing."

Missie blinked. "Don't you all have somewhere else to be?"

"Nope," Brooke replied matter-of-factly, smirking.

"Spill it," Whitney said, scooting up. "Was it actually a date-date, or are you gonna pretend it was 'just a friendly outing' like you always do?"

Kaitlin tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth and pointed. "She's smiling. It was definitely a date."

Missie rolled her eyes but couldn't stop herself from smiling even more. "Okay, fine. Yes—it was a date. Happy?"

"Thrilled," Farrah chirped. "Did you kiss him?"

"Farrah!" Brooke scolded, swatting her cousin with a pillow.

"What? That's what we're all wondering!" Farrah giggled.

Missie laughed as she kicked off her heels and walked toward the kitchen. "I'm not answering that."

"Which means yes," Whitney said, grinning like she'd just won a bet.

"It was sweet," Missie admitted, pouring herself a glass of water. "We danced a little, talked a lot. He's... different. In a good way."

"Aunt Missie's got a boyfriend," Farrah sang under her breath.

"He's not my boyfriend," Missie said quickly, though her cheeks betrayed her.

"Yet," Brooke muttered, shooting her a teasing look. "You really like him, huh?"

Missie paused, her hand still resting on the counter. "Yeah," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I really do."

The girls exchanged excited glances but knew not to push further—for now. Instead, Whitney grabbed the remote, Farrah offered Missie the rest of her popcorn, and the group shifted back into their usual rhythm, cozy and chaotic in the way only close family could be.

Missie curled up on the arm of the couch next to Brooke, stealing a handful of popcorn as she exhaled deeply. For once, the world felt like it was finally tilting in the right direction.