30. Margeaux
30
MARGEAUX
I thought my family was loud.
An Irish father and a Cajun mother is an explosive combination at times. To the point where my mother likes to joke when we go places that “here comes the Louds.”
Well, the Finnegans have nothing on the Hayeses.
Granted, we are a fraction of the size. Still, with Auggie, Miss Belle, Milo, Brenna, Anton, Hux, Jace, Ewan, Willa, Nash, Gus and myself all in this house, I’m not sure how the walls are not vibrating from all the energy. To think that Gus and his siblings grew up here blows my mind.
A bright-white, Victorian house with wraparound porch, large back deck, and built-in planters, Magnolia Manor, as the family calls it, is by no means small. Given the size of the family, that makes sense. It’s also currently decked out for Christmas, not a single inch left undecorated. A large, live fir tree stands in the corner of the living room, white twinkle lights glimmering in the soft glow from the fire, making it feel like something out of a magazine.
“All I want for Christmas is two…” Nash warbles, poking at the fire before adding another log. He sounds more like Scuttle from The Little Mermaid than Mariah with how off-key he is, but I keep the comment to myself.
“I’d say you get used to him,” Gus tells me, pulling me in closer to him on the couch. His warmth surrounds me, and I can’t help but snuggle into him. It feels good not to have to hide this. “But you don’t.”
“The wrong lyrics or just how off-key he is?”
“Either.”
“Both,” Willa adds.
“To be fair, Lucy sings it that way as well,” Auggie says, handing Nash a log. “I’ve always just assumed it was a mother of twins thing. And given who those twins are, not much different from mother of dragons.”
I laugh, still not used to the nonchalant, almost playful side of Auggie. Since our first meeting was a formal suspension, and our second was his reinstating my employment with an awkward apology and the requirement that Gus and I both complete fifty hours of community service as restitution for breaking policy, his real personality has been a bit of a mystery to me. Getting to see his “dad” side now is a complete one-eighty from the man I watched walk my colleague out of the office the other day.
I like it though. A lot.
“You picked quite the Sunday dinner as your first, Margeaux,” he continues. “Not often you get all of us together these days.”
I look around the room, the various members of the family grouped off with each other, the whole scene so easy and natural that I assumed that this was an everyday thing. Or well, an every week thing.
“Y’all don’t do Sunday dinner every week?”
“We do,” Gus says. “But with our schedules, we don’t all always make it. To have all seven of us kids here, plus partners, is something that is usually reserved for special occasions.”
“In case you were unaware, you’re the special occasion,” Anton quips, giving me a wink.
A wave of self-consciousness washes over me, my cheeks starting to heat up, and this time not from the fire or from Gus. No, I suddenly feel very much on display. The invite to Sunday dinner came before all the drama that went down. It never occurred to me that those events might have changed the way I’m viewed.
“Anton…” Auggie warns.
“What?” He shrugs. “We went from zero significant others to two in less than six months. That’s a big deal.”
“Excuse you! Three!” Willa exclaims, pointing to her boyfriend.
“He still doesn’t count.”
I look to Gus, sure that I’ve missed something. He shakes his head, laughing off the comment, so I accept it for what it is—normal family banter. A family that I’m thankful to be counted a part of.
“Plus, since you’re here, you can tell us what went down,” Anton pushes.
And there it is. The real reason.
I should have known. After all, Hickory Hills is a small town, and there is only so much one can do to keep a lid on things. Especially things as big as this. To Auggie and Percy’s credit, they did a damn good job at keeping the details under wraps. Sure, the whole town knows that Teresa and Ryan were fired and that Sheriff Smyth was called to escort them from the building. But the whys and the hows of it all—that’s still under lock and key.
And will remain that way .
As much as I want to tell the world about how Teresa sang like a canary, selling out her literal partner in crime in exchange for whatever deal Auggie and Percy offered her, I won’t. I also won’t ever share the extreme jubilation of being the one to hand her the box of her personal effects that Mabel cleaned out of her desk prior to the authorities escorting her out. Whenever I’m down in the dumps, that’s going to be a happy place that I return to.
That and Gus Hayes telling me he loves me. Nothing will ever top that.
Snuggling into him more, I relax, letting any remaining thoughts of Teresa slip away. She’s gone, and that’s all that matters.
“Sorry, signed an NDA,” I lie.
“C’mon, we’re all Hayes executives here.”
“Anton Wright Hayes,” Miss Belle scolds. The whole room freezes, the triple name of one child enough to make the rest stand at attention. “This is family dinner. You have Munch to discuss business.”
“Yes, Mama.” Anton hangs his head, properly shamed.
Gus’s hand flexes against my hip, and I turn to face him, not sure if it’s out of fear he’ll be next or something else. My gaze meets his, those deep-green eyes of his holding on to my soul and stealing my breath. I see everything I could ever want in there—love, trust, forever. How I ever thought of walking away—even for a second—I don’t know. It’s something I don’t know that I’ll forgive myself for, but am thankful that Gus has. That he didn’t give it a second thought.
“Margeaux,” Miss Belle coos, the same way Willa did when I first met her. Like my name elicits special recognition. “I hope you don’t think me too presumptuous, but we have a little family tradition, and I’m hoping that you’ll join us in it this year. ”
I jolt, startled by her request. She…she wants me to join in a Hayes family tradition? Focusing on Gus, I watch as his features morph from serious to soft, the love in his eyes still front and center as a smile takes over. My insides turn to goo, unable to help myself, seeing the hope in his face that I’ll say yes.
“Of course, Miss Belle. I’d be honored.”
“Oh good. Then this is for you.”
She produces a small, flat box with my name written across the front. If I thought I was surprised before, I’m flabbergasted now. She’s known I would be attending this dinner for all of maybe two days. Known of my existence for what, two weeks? How on earth did she have time to get me something?
“Every year we get a new ornament,” Gus explains, as his parents pass out boxes similar to mine to everyone else in the room. “There’s always some kind of theme. Since we don’t spend Thanksgiving together, one Sunday dinner when we’re all together, we open them up and each take a turn putting them on the family tree.”
Overwhelmed, I try to form a response. But I can’t. The wad of cotton sitting in my throat is preventing me from speaking, drying out my mouth more and more with each heartbeat. Tears sting the corner of my eyes, and I know I won’t be able to hold them back. There’s no chance.
“What’s the matter?” Gus asks, swiping at the first escapee.
“You…you want me to put an ornament on your family tree?” I choke out.
“I do. We do. You’re a Hayes now, Margeaux.”
That’s all it takes. Happy tears come flooding out, a sob quickly following. Gus chuckles, cutting me off with a kiss. I kiss him back, with everything I have, making sure he knows he’s my everything. My love. My future .
“I love you, Gus.”
“I love you, Margeaux.” He kisses me again, this time softer, but just as powerful. “Ready for this?”
I nod. “More than you know.”
And I mean it.
Because there’s magic in the air. I can feel it.