Archer and Cole take one end of the banner each, Nancy directing them with all the grace of a fairy elephant.
“Don’t be silly, Uncle Cole, they won’t see it if I hold it. I’m only little. You’re old, so you can do it.”
“Nash, I don’t think Nance knows that height and age are not the same thing,” Cole complains.
“Just do as you’re told, and you’ll get along just fine.”
Nancy may be a bit bold with her words sometimes, but unless she’s outright rude, intentionally, I won’t pull her up. I love the way she’s finding her own voice and personality. Long may it continue. That said, along with her confidence, Nancy is also incredibly emotionally aware of those around her. Sensing that she may have upset her uncle, Nancy spins around and wraps her arms around Cole’s knees.
“Love you, you’re the best uncle in the whole entire university,” she says, squeezing my brother’s legs tightly with her small arms. Cole, of course, gets a wide smile at her words.
“What about me?” Archer objects, faux-hurt on his face.
“And me?” Aidan adds.
“And me?” Rain complains.
“And me,” say Chris and Sam at exactly the same moment.
“You can be the best tomorrow, OK?” Nancy says, cocking her hip and resting a hand on it as though she’s got no time for this nonsense.
“Thanks, Nancy pants. I love you too,” I hear Cole whisper to Nancy, and she gives him an uncoordinated wink in return. The way my brother dotes on Nancy is truly special, especially given that she adores him right back. However, I could have done without him teaching her the fucking wink. That level of sass could have waited until high school at least.
The sound of a very noisy engine approaches, and before long, a white Luton van hurtles around the corner, before screeching to a very ungainly stop right in front of us. I look up to see two very pale faces in the front passenger seats, even as a portly man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth climbs out of the cab and goes to the rear of the van.
We hear the shutter door roll up, and Corey and Emma finally spring into action,diving out of the van as quickly as humanly possible. The driver is now wandering over to the duck pond as he lights another cigarette, clearly having no intention of helping unload the items in his vehicle.
“I feel like I’ve looked death in the face that whole journey,” Emma gasps, wide-eyed, and Corey laughs even as he’s tackled into a hug by Rain. He spots Nancy’s banner over Rain’s shoulder and gasps.
“Oh my goodness! Who made this gorgeous banner?” he coos, dramatically, and Nancy is delighted.
“Bunny!” she yells and runs towards him, leaping into his arms without preamble. Corey scoops her up easily and squeezes her in a tight hug.
“Did you paint this beautiful banner?” he asks, eyes wide in wonder as he gestures to it.
“Mmhm, d’you like it?” she asks, smile a mile-wide on her excited face. She’s been so excited about Corey – Bunny – coming home. I can’t even feel bad about the nickname derived from my own use of ‘little rabbit’, because it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard when she says it, and it’s something special just between them, the two most important people in my life.
Nancy gazes at Corey like he hung the moon as he oohs and aahs over every little aspect of the banner Archer and Cole still hold for inspection, two loyal Centurions standing guard, moving only for a brief one-armed hug each from Corey as he passes.
When Nancy spots Emma, Corey recoils at the squeal she lets out before wriggling to get down. He releases her, and within a moment, she’s in Emma’s arms. I’d been unsure if Nancy would be comfortable around Emma straight away since she’d only met her at my birthday, and that was months ago. But they talk all the time when I’m on a call to Corey, and Emma has been having some separate calls with Nancy and me to establish some plans for when she starts working with us on Monday.
I needn’t have worried. Nancy is talking a mile a minute with Emma, who listens rapt, the rest of my family smiling at how happy Nancy is at this moment. My family starts to drift to the back of the van, creating a human chain to get all the belongings from the back of the van onto the café car park so we can decide which boxes are going into the flat, and which will be coming over to the studio.
After an hour, the van is empty, and it rattles away, hopefully never to be seen again.
“Next time, I’m paying for movers,” Emma sighs. “If I ever have to sit three hours in a van next to someone who smells like a warm Peperami again, I’m going to sprout wings and learn to fly.”
Wren scoffs beside her, a large box in her arms that she piles amongst the rest of their combined belongings.
Poppy and Chris return to the café with Nancy in tow, while we spend some time ferrying the furniture into the flat, and Emma and Corey sort through the boxes. John gave Corey the bed from his house and a chest of drawers, so at least I know he’s got somewhere to sleep. He told me on the phone last week about how it was funny because Emma had a whole flat’s worth of furniture, and he had literally nothing.
I notice that the boxes are haphazardly labelled with a Sharpie and a vague list of items inside, rather than numbered with the corresponding contents audit spreadsheet I sent them both, but that’s OK, I think, even as my eye twitches. Not everyone needs control over practical things the way I do. And not everyone finds spreadsheets useful the way I do.
Still, deciding the chaos is only going to stress me out unnecessarily, I gladly take on therole of pack horse, making several journeys up and down the stairs with my brothers. When the last of it is upstairs, and the only boxes remaining are Corey’s art supplies, he picks up a box and looks at Aidan.
“Where’s your car?” he asks, expecting to load his boxes to be taken to their house.
“Um, actually,” I cut in, taking the box from his hands. He looks up at me, our eyes locking for the first time since he arrived. “Hi,” I whisper.
