“Dios mio,this baby.” She holds her arms out. “MayI?”
Claire pushes off from Isaac before I get a chance toanswer.
“Be careful of her arm,” Isaac warns, situating Claire on Lucia’s left side. She gives him a brief reproachful look before returning her attention to Claire. “He thinks I don’t know how to handle your special arm.” Her voice is soft, admonishing. “He forgets how many bones he broke as achild.”
“Daddy broke a bone too?” Claire’s eyes arewide.
Lucia turns back to the house. Isaac steps aside, ushering me in beforehim.
“Oh yes,” I hear her say. “An arm, a wrist, one in his foot, I don’t know how many toes, his collarbone.” She glances back at Isaac and winks. “That’s why he became an orthopedic surgeon. He was inspired by all that time he spent in a cast as achild.”
I step inside and follow Lucia to the living room, where she sets Claire’s feet down on the carpetedfloor.
“Lauren. Paul.” Lucia directs her yell off to her right. “They’re here.” She smiles at me, eyes dancing, and claps her hands togetherquietly.
I feel Isaac’s breath on my ear, his chest against my upper back. “I should’ve warned you before, but my dad canbe—”
“I have a joke for her,” a man yells. “Do you think she likes jokes? Wait, is four too young for jokes?” The owner of the voice isn’t visible yet, but his voice thunders down the hall. I can’t make out the muffled response, but there’s definitely a second voice. Claire’s hand grabs my knee from behind, an overgrown nail diggingin.
Isaac’s dad steps from the hallway, and he’s nothing like I thought he would be. Average height, average face, andblond. Talk about brown being dominant. The Punnet Square called this one. Isaac looks just like hismother.
“Aubrey, so good to meet you.” The man comes forward, his hand extended. He introduces himself asPaul.
The younger woman two steps behind him looks like an even split between the two parents. She has her father’s blond hair, but her mother’s big, brown eyes and highcheekbones.
“Hi, I’m Lauren, and I’m just going to hug you,” she laughs as she wraps her arms aroundme.
“Hello,” I say when Lauren steps back. Glancing down, I say “This isClaire.”
Claire’s hiding in my legs, her face pressed to the back of my knees. Gently I use a hand to coax her out, sending an apologetic glance at Isaac’sfamily.
“She’s probably a bit overwhelmed.” Iexplain.
Lucia nods knowingly. “Hmm… I wonder if Claire likes cupcakes? I have some that need frosting, but I’m not sure who can help me withthat.”
Claire’s hair brushes my skin as her head peeks out from the side of my leg. Her eyes blink up at Lucia. “I do likecupcakes.”
Lucia feigns surprise. “Well, then, I think you should be my helper.” She holds out a hand. Claire takes it and looks at me. I nod, and they leavetogether.
Lauren bites her lip and glances my way. “Do you mind if I go with them? I want to talk to you more,but…”
“It’s OK.” I reassure her. “We can chat after you spend some time withClaire.”
She hurries after them, sending a smile and an excited wave back atme.
Isaac rolls his eyes, but there’s too much affection in them for the gesture to be negative. “She babysat all the time. And now she’s a kindergartenteacher.”
Even if Lauren didn’t love little kids, I would get it. Claire is a person others want to be around. It’s impossible not to love herimmediately.
After watching her leave, Paul turns to me. “Aubrey, let’s sit outside in the sunshine while you tell me more about yourself. Isaac, can you grab us some drinks? Your mother has something she’s put together in the kitchen.” Paul cups my shoulder and squeezes lightly. “This way.” He walks past the couches and toward the back of thehouse.
As I follow him, I throw a glance back at Isaac, who hasn’t moved. His gaze is fixed on me. I take a step, bump into something, and catch myself on the couch. Isaac’s lips twitch, but he’s not laughing. I get the feeling he’s thinking really hard about something. Or maybe he’sremembering.
I go after Paul, hurrying now that I’ve paused for so long. From the big windows, I see he’s already outside, standing just beyond the patiodoor.
“Sorry,” I mumble, when I arrive in thedoorway.
“No problem. My son distract you?” Helaughs.
