“Damian, you made it,” Leon bellows, his face lined with a wide smile. “And Brielle, I’m so glad you were able to come, too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vitale. You have a beautiful place,” Damian says.
“It’s small but cozy.” He grins. “This is my daughter, Courtney, her husband, Stephen, and their little girl, Maggie,” he says, gesturing to the family sitting on the couch.
Stephen gets up to shake Damian’s and my hands, but Courtney is busy wrestling Maggie onto her lap, half a pigtail done while she struggles to gather the other half.
“Hi. I’m Maggie, ouch,” she says as Courtney pulls on her hair to get her to sit.
I say hello to Courtney and wave at her daughter. “Hi, Maggie,” I say, a smile pulling at my cheeks.
“Everyone, this is Damian Edgerton and his girlfriend, Brielle,” Leon announces to the room in his usual booming voice.
It’s the first time someone has labeled us that way. Damian and I have joked about it, mentioned it during our evenings together—but this introduction feels different. I can tell I’m not the only one who feels that way. Damian freezes beside me like he’s just now realizing that we’re really doing this whole charade.
Nerves are starting to pick up in my belly. I was fine on the way up here, but now that we’re standing here, in their family room, with their actual family, I feel like a complete fraud.
“Maggie, sit still. Sorry, I’d get up to greet you, but my hands are a little full,” Courtney says.
“Not a problem.”
“Damian, if you want to put the bags down, I’ll show you where you and Brielle are sleeping,” Leon offers.
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
The two of them go off down a corridor, and I take a seat on the couch next to Pam.
“I like your hair,” Maggie says.
“Oh, thank you. I like your hair.” I smile. “You know, I think our hair is almost the same color.”
“Mommy, look, we have the same hair.” Maggie beams at her mom. “Will you do her hair in pigtails, too?”
“I can’t even get your hair in pigtails with all the moving around you’re doing.”
“I’ll sit still, and then you can do her hair. What’s your name again?”
“She doesn’t want her hair in pigtails, baby,” Stephen answers, sending me an apologetic look.
“Brielle,” I say, answering her question. “And I would love pigtails.” I smile at her.
“I can do them. Can I do them? Please?”
“Sure thing,” I agree.
After Courtney finishes Maggie’s hair, she hops down from her mom’s lap and runs to me. I get her settled on the couch and take a seat on the floor in front of her so she has better reach. Her sticky little hands pull at my hair, but I try not to make a face.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Courtney tells me.
“I want to. I love pigtails.”
I look up and meet Damian’s eyes. He and Leon come back into the family room, Leon chatting away, but I have no idea about what. Not when Damian’s eyes are on me like that. He’s wearing an expression I haven’t seen before. I can’t quite place it, but then his lip tugs up in a smirk.
“I wish I could put Damian’s hair in pigtails, too,” I tell Maggie. Damian’s eyes narrow, his smirk slipping right off his face.
“His hair is too short,” she says.
He shakes his head at me, but his eyes are shining.
