“There she is,” said a man who could only be Quinn’s father, Scott. “Good lord, you’re a gorgeous woman.”
I was totally taken aback by his compliment. With his salt-and-pepper hair, gregarious smile, and t-shirt that read, ‘That’s cute. Now bring Grandpa a beer,’ Scott instantly put me at ease.
“Oh, well, thank you. And might I say you’re an equally gorgeous man?”
“You might.” He chuckled. “And I’m sure Michelle would wholeheartedly agree. Right, honey?”
“Yes. Wholeheartedly.” Her monotone reply indicated it was a question she answered regularly.
“She’s never been able to keep her hands off me,” Scott continued, unfazed. “Hence all these damn kids.”
Her eye roll didn’t escape me. These two had a seasoned relationship worth dying for. I glanced up at Quinn. His look said, ‘See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.’ But I wasn’t willing to hand him a victory just yet. There was still a long afternoon of childbirth to go.
A gaggle of kids ran up to their grandparents’ sides. “And the welcoming committee has arrived. Noah, this is Max, Madison, Miles, Indiana. They’ve been excited to meet you.”
Michelle continued rattling off the names of the youngest kids with a mixture of both joy and pride. She appeared so attentive and patient, which didn’t square with Quinn’s recollections of neglect so wrenchingly described last night. What horrors must have this devoted grandmother gone through to leave her six-year-old son to fend for himself? And perhaps even more telling of the complex dynamics at work in this family was that despite the resentment Quinn held on to, he clearly had a loving relationship with both his parents.
Noah said his quick hello before disengaging from my hold. Typically, he had no interest in my coddling when there were other kids in the picture, and today was no exception.
“Can I go?” he asked.
“Sure, but stay with the others.”
And then my security blanket was gone.
“Jess!” Grace skipped up to me with open arms, hugging me like we were the oldest of friends. “I’m so glad you came. It was sort of iffy on the bus if Quinn was going to win you over with that lackluster charm of his, but look at him—the persistent stud.”
I laughed at her enthusiastic dig. “He brought me a cake pop. I was sold.”
Her face melted in admiration of her big brother’s romantic gesture before turning to the man beside her and tugging on his sleeve. “Why don’t you ever bring me a cake pop, Elliott?”
“I didn’t know that was a thing in the States.”
“Oh yeah,” Quinn said. “It’s a surefire way to pull the chicks in America.”
“You don’t say?” He stared down at Grace, smiling. “Cake pop it is. I’m Elliott, by the way,” he said, introducing himself to me.
“Oops. Forgot you didn’t already know each other. Jess and I go way back.”
“So far back,” I agreed, realizing I was already forming an attachment to this bright and welcoming woman.
“Come,” Michelle said. “We’ve sort of taken over the entire right side of the waiting room.”
All eyes were on me as Michelle made the introductions. Because I stalked this family for a living, I knew who each member of Quinn’s large brood was by name alone, but knowing their names and where they fit into the family did not tell me who these people were. Like Michelle and Scott, Quinn’s siblings and their significant others were welcoming and friendly, but I sensed I was amongst a group of battle-weary survivors who kept their shields forever at the ready.
And that was even before I’d had a chance to meet the family’s shining star. Once that happened—and I’d been told Jake was on his way—I assumed that was when the swords would come out as the McKallisters mobilized to protect their own. But as I waited for Jake and baby to arrive, all my preconceived notions about this embattled family went out the door.
These people were nice.
And surprisingly approachable. I’d only been there thirty minutes when Kyle and Kenzie had me enthusiastically agreeing to appear on their YouTube channel to discuss my experiences as Jesserella. And I had only been there forty-five minutes when I watched Scott teach my eight-year-old how to gamble during a rousing game of elementary school poker. And I was only there an hour when Jake’s wife Casey suggested a playdate with her boys and Noah. A playdate. With Jake McKallister’s kids. Pinch me, please. Only yesterday, it seemed, I was scrubbing toilets, and today I was at the glittery ball.
None of it seemed real. This was the family I’d always dreamed of having. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to love and be loved in return by people who’d always have my back. For all his suffering as a child, I wondered if Quinn even understood the gift he’d been given. His parents had made mistakes, no doubt, but clearly they’d atoned for them and had gone on to build this tight-knit empire. It was all I’d ever wanted my parents to do… but they’d failed miserably. Was it so inconceivable to think the McKallisters could be my saving grace, and that they might find it in their hearts to make room for two more… if it ever came to that?
“Mom.” Noah pulled me out of my daydream by tugging on my shirt.
“What is it?”
“I’m hungry.”
