“And this is Kit.”
The older girl with a serious face and glasses gave me a tight smile. “We’re excited to see Vincent. We’ve got extensive baby experience. Don’t worry, we know what to do,” she assured me.
“And I’m Greta,” the smaller one said with a big wave.
Warmth bloomed inside me in response to this family dynamic, and I let my shoulders drop. This wouldn’t be too bad. I could do this.
“They belong to Jess,” Suzie explained.
“We’re from New York,” Greta said proudly. “But our summer house is right over there.” She pointed at what looked like a small barn in the distance. “I have my own goats now.”
Breathing in the fresh air, I took in the scene in front of me. Extended family, kids playing in the grass, the comfortable house. It was nice.
And it tracked. Of course Jasper had grown up surrounded by people who were genuinely kind.
My family members would run screaming from this place. And a slight discomfort rolled through me with each hug. But it was nice. It was normal. Unlike my own childhood.
We ate dinner on the deck, and while the kids regaled us with stories from summer camp, jobs, and sports teams, the adults fussed over Vincent. He loved the attention, giving gummy smiles to anyone and everyone.
“Your home is gorgeous,” I said to Josh. “I can’t believe you did this work yourself.”
“I had help,” he said, his tone low. “And it keeps me busy.”
“The kitchen is incredible.” I sighed, peering through the doors into the house. “I’m not much of a cook, but even I’m jealous.”
Jenn nodded. “That giant farmhouse sink is epic.”
“The copper pots were my idea,” Mel chimed in.
Josh hovered over his plate, shoulders rounded like he was uncomfortable with the attention. “Trust me. The kitchen needed a lot of work. I had to take out walls just to get the burnt maple syrup smell out.”
The table erupted in laughter, but I was confused.
“When Jas was ten, he tried to make breakfast in bed for Mom on Mother’s Day,” Josh explained, his lips twitching. “Jenn and Jess were off at college, and I was out working with my dad.”
His sisters giggled.
“Jasper made pancakes. Then he decided to heat up the syrup on the stove.”
“I wanted to be classy,” Jasper added, his tone a little defensive. “But it started to burn, so I took the pot off the stove?—”
“And put it on top of the newspaper.” Josh took over. “It caught fire and melted part of the Formica countertop. The drywall smelled like burnt maple syrup for years after that.”
Everyone was laughing now, including me.
“Jasper’s first fire,” Jess said, ruffling his hair.
“I put it out,” he said. “Even back then, I had good reflexes.”
Jenn picked up her glass of water. “Mom was so mad.”
“Not that mad,” Josh argued. “She never got mad at Jas. He was her favorite.”
A flash of sadness passed over Jasper’s face. He made no secret of how much he missed his mom.
While I hadn’t spoken to mine in a year.
Heart aching, I looked down at Vincent, who was now snoozing in my arms, and vowed I’d always be there for him. That he would be number one in my life forever.
