Chapter 52
HOLLY
LONDON
After clearing customs and picking up my luggage, I head into the arrivals hall.
It doesn’t take long to spot my family.
Shelby stands just past the barrier with all three kids. Louise jumps and waves like mad. Little Joey is half-asleep on my sister’s hip. Nico is pretending not to care but keeps checking the arrivals board.
They’re holding a giant handmade sign that reads:
WELCOME, FAVOURITE AUNTIE!!
The extra “u” reminds me I’m back. And yes, I’ve heard the “favorite aunt” joke a dozen times—technically, I’m the only aunt—but who am I to spoil their fun. It’s not just the sign that gives them away. So does the yelling.
“There she is! Auntie Holly!!”
Louise breaks free from the others and darts through the crowd, arms wide.
I drop my bags and crouch just in time to catch her as she barrels into me. Her arms wrap tight around my neck, squeezing me so hard I nearly topple.
“You took ages!” she blurts, half accusing, and her British accent makes it both dramatic and utterly adorable. “I’ve missed you loads!”
I kiss the top of her head. “Oh, I missed you too, Ms. Louise,” I say, trying to imitate her British accent. It comes out wobbly at best. I drop it immediately. “And look at you! What happened to the tiny person I left behind? You’re much taller… and definitely louder.”
She giggles. “That’s ’cause I’m seven now.”
Suddenly, I’m pulled into a warm, chaotic group hug. Arms everywhere, kids pressed in close, Shelby juggling Joey in the middle. As I straighten up, I spot Nico hanging back a step, hands in his hoodie pocket.
“Hey, Trouble,” I say. I ruffle his hair. He tolerates it (mostly). “You missed me.”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“You made it, thank God,” Shelby chirps, kissing my cheek.
She looks good. Tired, sure, but brighter than she’s been in years. Now her cheeks are fuller, her skin brighter, even if there’s still a bit of exhaustion around her eyes.
“You’re glowing,” I tell her.
“Glowing? Don’t be daft. I look like I’ve been up since 5 a.m., probably because I have.” She brushes hair from my face. “You, on the other hand, look knackered.”
“I am knackered.”
“Join the club. This lot keeps me busy at all hours,” she says, bouncing Joey on her hip. “But it’s just us now. That’s all that matters.”
“I did the sign,” Nico pipes up. “She just colored in the bits I’d already done.”
“Is that right? Ten out of ten from me.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care, but there’s a small grin as he looks away.
A tiny hand tugs at my hair.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing,” I coo at Joey, my younger nephew. “Hey there, buddy.” I meet Joey’s big eyes and sleepy smile. Still clutching my hair, he leans out of his mom’s arms while babbling nonsense. I scoop him into my arms, press my nose into his soft curls, and breathe him in.
“Come on,” Shelby says. “Let’s get out of here before Joey conks out completely.”
“Too late.” I adjust him on my hip.
“Can I push your trolley?” Nico asks.
“Be my guest, champ.”
Louise grabs my hand while she chatters on about their house and what color my room is (“muted duck-egg blue”) and how she’s saving me a Yorkie chocolate bar she doesn’t like.
I step out into the London drizzle and breathe in deep. The air’s crisp, nothing like New York’s sticky summer heat. I close my eyes and let the rain hit my face.
I’m here. Somehow, it feels real and doesn’t.
We all pile into Shelby’s white van, a Citroen Berlingo. Never heard of it before. It’s looks like a cross between a minivan and a FedEx truck. The boxy look and sliding doors scream “mom van” to my eye. I glance at Shelby.
My sister knows exactly what’s running through my head. “Gets to a point where you don’t give a toss about how it looks, you know. It’s all about cramming three kids and a pram in the back. Now, in you get before I leave you on the curb.”
“Fine. Function over form. I get it.”
“No smirking, now. You’ll be driving one of these soon enough.”
I climb in. The novelty of being at the airport and watching me arrive has worn off on Louise and Nico, and they start bickering over the family tablet before I buckle my belt.
Eventually, Nico puts on his headphones and dives into FIFA on his Nintendo Switch.
Louise wins screen control and puts on Matilda the Musical, and cranks the volume way too loud.
Shelby starts to slowly pull out, and gives her a look.
Louise pretends not to notice. Joey’s thumb is already in his mouth, eyelids drooping.
He’ll be out cold before we leave the parking lot.
The streets roll by, after a brief jolt of oh, right, we drive on the left.
Once my brain recalibrates, everything feels wonderful: yellow rear plates, LOOK RIGHT stenciled at a crossing, streetlamps, long stretches of red-brick buildings flashing past. The familiar rain-polished pavement, a little worn, a little lovely.
A lit-up Tesco Express. People moving briskly under umbrellas.
A black cab honking as it slides by too fast.
Startled, I pull out my phone. I switch off airplane mode and wait.
Kenzie’s already texted.
Kenzie:
You made it?? London still standing?
I smile and reply with a heart.
Me:
Landed safe.
Everyone’s loud and adorable. Will call tomorrow.
I scroll down.
No message from Dexter.
I check my signal. Full bars. Roaming is working fine.
Wait, it’s only 5 p.m. in New York. He’s still knee-deep in his meeting. If the pitch went well—and knowing him, it did—no doubt it rolled straight into handshakes, contract talks with the lawyers, maybe even dinner with the client.
Just like I did with Kenzie, I type a quick text to him without overthinking it.
Me:
Landed safe. Shelby picked me up. Text me when you come up for air.
I hit Send, then lock the screen and slip the phone back into my bag with a sigh.
Shelby eyes me from the driver’s seat. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. You’ve got your ‘pretending everything’s fine’ face on.”
“I do not!”
And just like that, we’re back in sister mode. It’s ridiculous how fast that happens. I wonder if our kids will end up bickering like this. Judging by the chaos in the back seat, it feels inevitable.
She studies me out of the corner of her eye, tapping the indicator. “Dexter?”
“What about him?”
My sister gives me that familiar don’t-BS-me look, but gentler this time. She lowers her tone to almost careful. “He still tried to talk you out of leaving, didn’t he?”
I sigh.
“Of course he did.” I rest my head against the window before looking at Shelby and whispering, “Do you think I’m selfish?”
Shelby snorts, back to her usual dry self. “Well, you never let me near your Barbie collection.”
“Because you chopped the hair off my favorite one.”
“She looked bad-a—savage when she was bald.” She corrects herself quickly, flicking a glance at the kids. They’re too busy to notice.
We laugh at the memory.
“Anyway, you’ve made a choice,” she says, eyes on the road as she changes lanes. “A big one. You’ve got a little baby to think about now. That’s never selfish.”
I glance down at my stomach and smile. “Babies. Plural.”
“Indeed.” She grins. “My future nieces or nephews. I’ve already bought matching babygrows.”
From the back seat, Louise pipes up, tuned in the second we mentioned babies. “Auntie Holly, you have to come and see our school! It looks like Hogwarts, only it’s got more pigeons.”
Nico cuts in, deadpan, “No, it doesn’t. It’s just a moldy old shithole.”
“Language, please,” Shelby warns in one go, eyes on him in the mirror.
“Sorry.” He slouches into his seat, back to his game.
Louise chimes in, “It does stink in there, though. Nico says the boys’ loo smells like zombie farts.”
Nico laughs. Louise giggles louder.
“Louise,” Shelby warns.
“Sorry,” she chirps, not remotely sorry.
“We’ll show you everything.” Shelby slows for the light and reaches across to squeeze my hand. “You’ve got loads of time. You live here now.”
I squeeze back. “Yeah. I do.”
“We’ll start with the new kindergarten building tomorrow. Not as promising as the first one, but we’ll take a look. See if it’s worth the bother. Or if we should run screaming.”
“Oh, we’ll knock it into shape.”
She squeezes again. “We always do, don’t we?”
By the time we pull up to Shelby’s, the kids are half asleep and I’m not far behind. Nico mumbles something about needing the loo, Louise yawns mid-sentence, but Joey is still completely out.
“Can you get him so I can unlock the door, darling?” Shelby asks, grabbing my suitcase and heading for the house.
I lift Joey carefully. He stirs just enough to tuck his face into my neck, before he goes right back under. My chest tightens, soft and full. I can’t wait to hold my own little ones like this.
The house smells like toast and laundry and something vaguely floral.
Toys are scattered across the hallway floor, and someone’s left a yellow sock on the banister.
There’s no designer anything, no curated throw pillows or artfully placed candles, just kids’ drawings taped to the fridge and a tangle of shoes by the stairs.
It’s very Shelby. And I am charmed by it.
Same walls, same smells. I feel comfort settle in, right alongside a flicker of nerves that tells me this isn’t a visit.
I toe off my shoes and follow her inside.
Nico gives me a silent high five and Louise wraps her arms around me for a quick goodnight hug before they bound up the stairs.
Joey wakes just enough to notice I’m not his mom and starts squirming, so Shelby swoops in and scoops him up, and disappears down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Your royal suite awaits, as promised. Third on the left, that old office room. Make sure you don’t trip over the extension cord,” she calls over her shoulder. “And shout if you’re peckish. I’ll rustle up some soup.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll lie down for a bit and try to trick my body into local time.”
“Good luck with that.”