“Have they been following us around all day?” she asks.
“Yes. It’s for your protection, Remy. You and the babies.”
She focuses on the water and the land ahead. “Do you ever wish that you could just go outside and be normal for a day?”
“This is normal for us.” I rest my elbows on the railing and nudge her gently. “Eventually, you’ll forget they’re even there.”
Standing on her other side, Bash adds, “If we could do this any other way, we would. But you and the babies are too precious to us.”
She is quiet for the rest of the journey.
Our car is waiting for us when we disembark the ferry. Remy doesn’t ask where we’re going next, but her eyes light up when we pull up outside our family home.
“Wait.” She stops dead outside the porch. “Is your mom home?”
“Sure. She’s been waiting to meet you.”
“No.” Remy backs away, shaking her head, her face pale. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here? I need time. I would’ve worn something else.” She peers down at her faded jeans and untucked shirt. “Look at the state of me.”
I open my mouth to protest that she doesn’t need to dress up for our mom, when the door opens and she comes out onto the porch, barefoot and wearing similar faded jeans.
“Boys, finally.” She ignores us and strides straight over to Remy, denying her the opportunity to cut and run. “You must be Remy. I wondered when they were going to introduce you. Everyone is here.”
Mom slides an arm around Remy’s waist and guides her inside.
Remy glances at us from over her shoulder, wide-eyed, and mouths, “Help me.”
“Did we do the right thing by not pre-warning her?” Bash asks.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
We follow them inside and through to the small-arena-sized kitchen where our family naturally gravitates when we’re all together.
Victoria and Sienna hug Remy, breaking the ice and easing her in gently. Terry pulls her into a hug next, careful not to crush her, and kisses her cheek sloppily. Caleb and Kyle are preparing dinner; they turn around and greet her with warm smiles and a wave of a wooden spoon. Holly stays close to her papa’s legs, peering at Remy from beneath a mop of dark curls, while Skye, Kyle and Sienna’s baby son, crawls around the floor with a carrot stick in his hand.
“Nothing like dropping her in at the deep end,” Bash murmurs.
“Look at it this way, while we’re all here, Mom can’t have the ‘break-my-sons’-hearts-and-you’ll-have-me-to-deal-with’ conversation with Remy.”
“So, we’ve basically done her a huge favor by bringing her here today.” Bash cricks his neck from side to side. “I can get on board with that.”
“She’ll thank us someday.”
Terry opens a bottle of wine and takes some beers from the fridge. He pours a soda over ice for Remy before she is forced to remind him that she isn’t drinking alcohol.
Mom supervises the meal because she doesn’t know how to relinquish control. Remy sits on the floor with Holly and coos over the child’s doll that cries like a real baby. She slides effortlessly in and out of the conversation, as if there was always a Remy-shaped slot in our family just waiting to be filled.
After we’ve eaten—pasta is Caleb’s specialty dish although I’m certain he uses it as camouflage to disguise the fact that it’s his only dish—we all relocate to the den.
I hang behind in the kitchen with Bash and Mom.
“Well?” Mom asks.
“We’re picking up the keys shortly.” I feel five years old again, getting my first bicycle without training wheels, eager to climb on and prove that I’m ready. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
“What’s not to love, Cash?”
I’ve been rocking on my heels all day, itching for the finale, scared to let anything slip and spoil the surprise.
