21. “Finally, some indication that my baby bro has an interest in the opposite sex.”
“Finally, some indication that my baby bro has an interest in the opposite sex.”
Aria
Yesterday was one of the best days of my life.
Sure, I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but somehow, I feel it’s true.
Being with Caleb is always so easy, so comfortable.
Except maybe for that goodbye last night in front of my room.
That was . . . awkward. And we never do awkward.
My crush on him might be messing with my head, but for an instant, I thought those feelings were mutual.
We’re on our way to his parents’ house for Christmas lunch, and I’m getting more nervous by the mile. What if his family hates me? I’m just the weird girl with no memory who moved in with Caleb. That probably raised some red flags, especially since he’s a wealthy, famous athlete.
“It’s going to be all right,” Caleb says, glancing down at my knee, which has been bouncing for the last twenty minutes. “I promise. My family is chill. Well, my mom can be a little over the top—Italian genes and all. But she’s the kindest person you’ll ever meet.”
I nod, peering out the window. “Right, yeah. It’s a little nerve-wracking, that’s all.”
“I get it. You’re meeting the in-laws, so to speak, and even if we’re not actually dating, it feels like a big step,” he blurts out.
“Definitely,” I say, swallowing hard as I try to prevent the word “dating” from echoing in my head. But since I have zero control over my brain, it goes ahead and fixates on the word anyway.
He takes an exit into bottlenecked traffic, and we drive for another thirty minutes before we finally reach a residential area with rows of gorgeous houses.
“Wow, it’s beautiful out here. Is this where you grew up?”
“No,” he responds, parking in front of a large house with perfectly trimmed hedges, which glimmer under a cascade of Christmas lights.
“Not far from here, though. When I got my first big NHL contract, I helped pay for the construction of this house, and helped my dad build it. My way of thanking them for all the sacrifices they made over the years.” He gives a small shrug.
“That’s actually why I’m on a present ban for the rest of my life. ”
“Wow, you built a house ? That’s amazing!
I knew you were talented at LEGO, but an actual house, now that’s another story.
And it’s a very kind thing to do.” It also doesn’t surprise me.
Ever since the minute I met Caleb, “kind” has been the first adjective I associated with him. Okay, “super hot” too.
We grab the gifts from the trunk, and as we walk toward the front door, I take in the decorations again.
Twinkling white lights drape from the tall columns, a massive wreath hangs on the door, and two nutcracker statues stand guard on the porch, their painted faces illuminated by the filtered sunlight peeking through the clouds.
Caleb rings the doorbell, and the door opens almost immediately.
“There they are!” says a tall woman with long black hair and walnut eyes. Her smile is warm and reminds me so much of Caleb’s.
“Hey, Mom ,” he says, drawing her into a hug. He shoots me a glance. “Mom, this is Aria. Aria, this is my mom, Irene.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand, but she ignores it and takes me into her arms. Her perfume is a little dizzying, but her hug is amazing, and I linger there for just a second longer.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” she says, breaking the embrace. She then rakes her eyes over the little black dress I’m wearing. “Caleb wasn’t lying. You’re exquisite.”
I can practically feel my cheeks bursting into flames. He told his mom I was pretty?
“Mom,” Caleb warns, his tone low. “Aria is just a friend, remember?”
She simply ignores him and invites us to take our coats off.
Then, we follow her to the large family room, the space beautifully decorated with garlands of fresh pine draped over the fireplace and a towering Christmas tree adorned with ornaments and white lights.
A fire crackles in the hearth, casting a cozy glow over the plush sofas and festive throw pillows.
I’ve barely taken two steps in the room before I’m sneezing like a walrus.
Two younger women are already lounging on the couch, and they stop chatting the second they see us come in.
“Hey, you two,” Caleb says, w alking toward them as they stand up. “How are you?”
He hugs them each in turn, and I can’t help but notice the family resemblance. A particularly good-looking family, with dark, smoldering eyes, flawless skin, and glossy hair.
“This is my friend, Aria. Aria, meet Gaby and Lisa.”
I cover up another sneeze. “Sorry. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s so nice to meet you ,” Lisa says, shaking my hand vigorously. “Finally, some indication that my baby bro has an interest in the opposite sex.”
“Haha,” Caleb says, rolling his eyes. “I suppose it is pretty crazy, considering I grew up with you two.”
As they start bickering, a kid—maybe ten years old—shuffles into the room, his tablet glued to his hands. He’s followed by a man who I assume to be his grandpa.
“Owen, my man!” Caleb says, fist-bumping the kid, then hugging his dad. “How are you, Pops?”
Turning to me, he introduces me to the two of them. Owen eyes me curiously—maybe because of the sneezing—while Caleb’s dad, Robert, offers a welcoming smile. Naturally, he has the flawless Hawthorne genes as well.
“You okay?” Caleb asks me. “You might be allergic to something here.”
“Yeah, I’m—” I sneeze again. “Fine.”
Well, that isn’t completely tru e. My nose is prickling, and my eyes are a bit wet. “You’re probably right,” I admit.
“Let me get you some meds before we eat.”
The dinner Irene prepared is delicious. I have this feeling, deep inside me, that family holiday dinners were never a thing in my life. Even if they were, this year could have turned out a lot different with me in the hospital, and I feel so lucky to be a part of this celebration.
“So,” Irene begins as she leans forward, her brown eyes settling on me. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
I almost choke on my glazed carrot.
“Mom!” Caleb’s voice booms next to me.
“Irene!” Robert scolds at the same time.
“What? I’m just making conversation,” she says, winking at me, and I blow out a chuckle.
“I already told you about Aria’s situation. Please be respectful.”
“It’s okay, Caleb,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder.
When I glance back to Irene, I notice the way her eyes are glued to my hand on her son’s shoulder.
I remove it right away. No need to give her—or me—any ideas.
“I’m not sure whether I have a boyfriend or not, truthfully.
Although, I’m leaning toward ‘no .’ I don’t feel like I’m in a relationship, if that makes sense. ”
“Totally,” Gaby says, sipping her drink. “If you had an annoying man dictating your every move, you’d know. These things leave a trace.”
I laugh, dabbing my mouth with my napkin. “Yeah, probably.”
Irene rolls her eyes, then gives me an exasperated look.
“See what I’m dealing with? I’m never going to be a grandmother again with these two.
” She shakes her head with a sigh. “Forgive me for prying, but it’s the first time our son has brought a girl home, so it might be messing with my brain a little. ”
“Oh, here we go again,” Robert says, setting down his fork. “Grandkid talk! We have one. It’s perfect that way.”
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Owen says, not missing a beat of the conversation and making us all chuckle.
“It’s all right, truly.” I nod to Irene and Robert. “And thank you for opening your home to me. I’m very grateful.”
“Well, whoever raised you,” she says, grabbing her drink, “they raised you right.”
I do my best to keep my smile locked in, but her words hit me hard.
Lisa starts arguing that she’s the best child because she brought her parents a grandson, while Caleb and Gaby are quick to remind her of all the times she drove their parents crazy as a kid.
But I’m barely listening, too busy wondering if I have siblings like them and where the people who raised me are this Christmas.
Caleb Hawthorne
Aria has been quiet since dinner. I’m mad at my mom for reminding her that she has no family—and for pushing the dating thing on her.
I guess that phone call to debrief her was all for nothing.
When my mom has her mind set on something, nothing else matters.
She means well, I know that. But it must feel really weird for Aria.
“Is it time for presents yet?” Owen asks for the third time, and we all laugh, agreeing. We cluster together on the couches, close to the Christmas tree.
Aria is sitting next to me, but her eyes are staring listlessly at the throw blanket wrapped on the armrest.
“What’s wrong?” I lean in, my voice low.
She swallows hard, her finger trailing along the fabric. “I think I had a blanket just like this one.”
“Really?” I glance at the blanket like it’s a bomb about to explode, threatening to blow up everything that feels right in my life.
Aria shakes her head and offers a smile. “Yeah, it’s weird. Nothing else comes to mind.”
Before I can respond, my sisters start exchanging gifts, and Aria rises from the couch to grab ours.
I follow her, and as we carry the presents back to the coffee table, my hand brushes against hers.
It’s the smallest touch—just a graze of our fingers—but I feel it like a jolt of lightning. She doesn’t pull away.
Clearing my throat, I force my attention back on the gift exchange. Owen practically vibrates with excitement as he tears into his gift. “Whoa! Thank you, Uncle Caleb. I love it so much.”
“It’s from Aria too,” I say, nudging her with my elbow. “She even wrapped it.”
She lets out a laugh, shaking her head. But before she can protest, Owen looks up from the shredded wrapping paper with an approving nod. “Nice wrapping.”
Well, would you look at that? My man has manners.