Way to go, Carolina. Your conversational skills are on par with Dr. Baumann in these settings!
“Hi,” he scowls at me like I murdered a puppy.
Flint ambles over and slaps Rand on the back. “I see the gang’s all here.”
For the briefest of moments, I would swear Flint’s eyes lit up as he looked between Rand and me. But a second later, the look was gone, replaced by thatFlintinessthat he pulls off so well.
“Dinner’s ready,” Luke announces, and there’s a mad scramble toward the dining room, during which Celia drags me along with her.
The dining room table was extended to accommodate everyone. Luke is sitting at the head of the table with Wil next to him in a high chair. Wysdom is at the foot, next to Carmine in his high chair. Mama sits to Wysdom’s right, followed by Papa, Celia, Flint, Ruston, Sienna, Denise, and Deuce. Faith and Sol plop down to Luke’s right, followed by Kate and Dixon.
“Carolina,” Wysdom pats the chair on her left. “Sit by me.”
I shrug and sit down, pulling my napkin into my lap.
I frown at the two empty chairs between Dixon and me.
“Who else are we expecting?” I turn to Wysdom.
She grins, and it’s at that moment I know something is afoot.
“Rand!” Wysdom points to the empty chair beside me. “We saved you both a seat.”
My heart picks up the pace.Both? Rand brought a date tomyfamily dinner?
Fuck.This guy.
One minute he’s looking at me like I hung the moon. The next minute, he shows up likeMr. Hottie Frowny Face, bringing a date.
W-T-F!
“Do you mind if I sit by you?”
I blink at a beautiful teenager nearly eye-level with me. Her black hair is short with bright purple bangs. The purple contrasts nicely with the green of her eyes. She’s skinny, but in that student-athlete sort of way, and her eyebrows are better groomed than mine have ever been.
“Ah, sure?”
Her smile nearly splits her face in half. She shimmies into the chair to my left. Rand follows suit on her other side.
“My name is Faylor,” the teenager holds out her hand toward me.
“Carolina,” I shake her slender hand. I can’t remember being this poised as a teenager. I’m certainly not winning any contests for poise as an adult. “How do you know all of these people?”
“Rand is my dad,” Faylor grabs her napkin and tucks it into her lap.
I blink a few times. Dad? Rand Kestrel is a dad? My mouth opens and closes a few times. I know I look ridiculous, but I cannot help myself. The Rambling Man is a dad?
“He’s also my uncle,” Faylor reaches for a roll on the table.
This teenager managed to do something no one else on God’s green earth has been able to do. She got the entire Ward-Saber family toshut the fuck up. Even the babies stared at Faylor’s pronouncement.
“Uh, ah….ahem,” I stutter. I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start.
Rand points around the table. “Don’t y’all start calling me Uncle Daddy, now. Faylor’s mom, my sister, died during childbirth. So, I adopted her. Faylor - that is.”
My brows knit together. Rand said this as if it explained all. But the questions keep rolling around my head.
“He’s not my bio-dad,” Faylor butters her roll. “That dirtbag is in prison.”
