Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Elle gave me a one-armed hug. “Hey, you. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I studied her pretty face. While Luke was a younger version of Dad, down to his Roman nose and cleft chin, and I was a younger version of Mum (except for the color of my eyes), Elle was more of a mix of our parents. She had long dark hair and Mum’s gray eyes and a slightly more subtle cleft chin than my brother and dad. “How’s school?”
Elle shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s there.”
I turned to Mum who’d slipped back onto a stool next to Aunt Ellie. Smiling at Ellie’s conspiratorial wink, I reluctantly turned my attention to Mum. “I see our kid is as interested in school as ever.”
“Our kid?” Mum gestured between her and Dad. “You had no hand in making her.”
“I helped raise her.”
Mum quirked an imperious eyebrow. “Do we really think so?”
“She is here.” Elle shoved me playfully. “And I’m doing fine in school. Just because I’m not type A like you doesn’t mean I’m not getting through.”
“Getting through,” I muttered under my breath. Envy scored through me at her blasé attitude. Sauntering across the kitchen, I smiled to my aunts and approached Grandma Elodie. She stopped stirring the frying pan where all the amazing smells were coming from and turned to greet me.
“Beth.” Grandma Elodie drew me into a hug. Like Aunt Ellie, she was tall, and we were almost equally matched as we embraced. She smelled of wildflowers and the spices from the fajitas she was making with Dad. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”
Guilt flashed through me. “Sorry I’ve missed the last few Sundays. It’s been hectic.”
“You do too much,” Grandpa Clark said from the island.
“Hi, Grandpa. How’s retirement treating you?”
“Retirement?” He quirked an eyebrow as he turned to Grandma Elodie. “I don’t think your grandmother knows I’m retired. I get a list of tasks to complete every morning.”
“Pfft.” She waved a wooden spoon at him. “It keeps you busy.”
Chuckling, I then greeted my uncles Adam and Marco, and then slid my arm around Mum’s shoulders before stealing a sip of her wine.
“You want a glass?” Dad asked as he chopped peppers.
“I’ll get it.” Hannah popped up off her stool to pour me one.
“Thanks.”
Mum slid an arm around my waist, pulling me into her side. I glanced down at her and tensed at the worry that hadn’t unwrinkled from her brow. “You really do need to start taking better care of yourself.”
“I’m too busy taking care of you and a million other clients,” I joked.
“Beth—”
“Jocelyn.”
She jerked at my dad’s voice. In my entire life, I had never heard my dad call my mum Joss, like everyone else did. She was always Jocelyn or babe. Dad gave her a meaningful look. “Let her be.”
Mum bristled. “I’ll tell my daughter I’m worried about her if I want to.”
“She just got here. At least let her have a glass of wine first.” He gave her a teasing smirk, and I felt her relax a wee bit.
“Fine.”
Aunt Hannah crossed the room to hand me the glass. Tall, blond, and curvy, she was a knockout who seemed to age backward. She was also one of the kindest people I’d ever met. Although I was good at hiding it, I’d hero-worshipped her as a child. Her husband Marco was, like Mum, an American transplant. He’d moved from the US as a teen to live here with his grandparents. He and Hannah were friends who went their separate ways and then reunited in their twenties. Marco was reserved but laid-back and movie-star gorgeous. In fact, Elodie had begged us to get a family photo a few years ago that included everyone currently in the room, plus Dylan, Will, and Bray, and the photographer couldn’t stop talking about what a ridiculously good-looking family we were.
That might be true, but these people were more than their shells.
I had a beautiful family because they were good and loyal and true. And I wanted nothing more in life than to live up to them, to make them proud.
“Thanks.” I gave Aunt Hannah a warm look as I took the glass of wine and considered Mum. I knew her pestering came from a place of love and concern. I shrugged off my stressy impatience and kissed her temple. “I’m fine, Mum. Promise.”
The truth was while I felt safe telling my parents almost anything, I’d never been comfortable with the idea of admitting to them when I couldn’t handle something. Mum had literally lost her entire family at fourteen and yet she’d braved an ocean to start over in Edinburgh. She’d forged a marriage that blew me away to this day. My parents might disagree and were both passionate people, but never once had I been concerned that their marriage was in trouble. They were solid as a rock, and I’d known that growing up.