Chapter 10 Beth
CHAPTER TEN
BETH
The next day, I attempted to shrug off my concerns about fitting Samuel into my schedule next week, as well as a million other things wearing on my busy brain, as I hurried into my parents’ house on Dublin Street with a “Sorry I’m late!”
Music sounded from the kitchen, so I guessed no one could hear me.
I hurried through the elegant vestibule that had more shoes than usual lined up along the bench seating, into the large hall housing the wide stairwell that led up to two more floors.
Growing up in a mammoth home like our townhouse had felt normal to me as a kid.
I’d had no understanding of my privilege until I was a teenager and I met … well … until I met Callan.
My parents had always instilled in us that we were lucky to have a good start in life, but that we had to work hard if we wanted to achieve what they had. They might help and support us, but they weren’t going to hand everything to us.
On the ground floor, three doors split off to a huge kitchen my parents had renovated a few years ago, a TV room, a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and Dad’s office.
On the next floor was my parents’ primary suite, a huge second living room, and Mum’s office.
The top floor had been mine and my siblings’ floor growing up.
We each had a bedroom and shared a bathroom.
Mum and Dad had kept the character of the house by restoring Georgian coving and paneling throughout.
One day I’d love to be successful enough to buy a place like this to raise my kids. I’d only need around three and a half million pounds.
I snorted at the thought, trying to stem the sudden tightness in my chest.
Most of my family were gathered in the massive kitchen.
Mum sat on a stool at the end of the island with my aunts Ellie and Hannah, drinking wine.
Dad was at the stove with Grandma Elodie.
Luke, Elle, my cousins Sophia and Jarrod, and Luke’s boyfriend, Afonso, sat at the breakfast nook.
Grandpa Clark, Uncle Adam, and Uncle Marco sat with their backs to me at the island and to my surprise, there was no sign of my cousins Will or Bray.
They were Uncle Adam and Aunt Ellie’s sons.
Bray was named after my dad, Braden, because apparently, Dad and his sister wanted to confuse the heck out of everyone.
My uncle Marco’s son to a previous relationship, Dylan, was studying in the US. Like Lily and Luke, Dylan was twenty-one, and he was on a year’s university exchange from Glasgow to Northwestern in Chicago.
Marco’s wife was my aunt Hannah. Hannah wasn’t related to me by blood but was Ellie’s half sister and Elodie and Clark’s daughter, just as Elodie and Clark’s son Declan was Ellie’s half brother.
Declan was the one member of our family who hadn’t remained close.
He moved to Australia for a job, taking his wife and kids with him, and we only saw him once a year at Christmas.
My dad had always treated Hannah and Declan like his wee sister and brother, so it made no difference to us. We were all family.
And none of my family had noticed me enter.
Longing ached in my chest as I took them in. This lot was only a small portion of it. We were the (mostly) related portion. The rest of our family was made up of my parents’ friends, but we were so close I’d never considered them anything but aunts and uncles, and their children my cousins.
My dad noticed me first. His whole face lit up as he walked around the island toward me. “There’s my gorgeous girl.”
“Well, you did guilt-trip me into being here, so don’t act so surprised,” I replied sarcastically, even as Dad enfolded me in his arms and I hugged him like I hadn’t seen him in years.
Dad was tall and broad-shouldered and one of the few people who could make me feel dainty.
There was nothing better or safer than a dad hug.
He kissed the top of my head and gave me a squeeze before releasing me. “Missed you.”
“You too.”
“We wouldn’t have to miss you if you didn’t work so hard.” Mum was at our side now, waiting her turn for a cuddle.
At her disapproving tone, I frowned. “Eh, and for whom am I working so hard?”
“I don’t ask you to work so hard you have no life.
” She reached up to cup my face in her palms, studying the features no one could deny I’d inherited from her.
Other than my dad’s height and pale blue eyes, Jocelyn Carmichael’s dominant genes were stamped all over me.
Same eye shape, same nose, same mouth, same hair, same skin tone.
I was her mini me. Except I was taller. I’d sprouted past Mum at fifteen and hadn’t let her forget it.
“I have a life, shortie.” I took her hands in mine gently to remove them from my face. “I have a successful business.”
“That’s not all there is to life.” Mum pursed her full lips, studying me. “You look tired. I’m worried about you. You know when you got that flat, we thought we’d see more of you, not less.”
Irritation burned in my chest. “Gee, did Luke get this interrogation when he arrived?” I gestured to where my brother sat with my wee sister.
Elle gave me a sympathetic wave, and I took that opportunity to head over to her.
I smiled at my cousins Sophia and Jarrod.
Jarrod was Elle’s age, and Sophia was seventeen.
Because of their close ages, the three of them were good friends beyond being cousins.
Sliding my arm around Elle, I kissed her temple. “Hey, baby girl.”
Elle gave me a one-armed hug. “Hey, you. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I studied her pretty face. While Luke was a younger version of Dad, down to his Roman nose and cleft chin, and I was a younger version of Mum (except for the color of my eyes), Elle was more of a mix of our parents.
She had long dark hair and Mum’s gray eyes and a slightly more subtle cleft chin than my brother and dad. “How’s school?”
Elle shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s there.”
I turned to Mum who’d slipped back onto a stool next to Aunt Ellie. Smiling at Ellie’s conspiratorial wink, I reluctantly turned my attention to Mum. “I see our kid is as interested in school as ever.”
“Our kid?” Mum gestured between her and Dad. “You had no hand in making her.”
“I helped raise her.”
Mum quirked an imperious eyebrow. “Do we really think so?”
“She is here.” Elle shoved me playfully. “And I’m doing fine in school. Just because I’m not type A like you doesn’t mean I’m not getting through.”
“Getting through,” I muttered under my breath. Envy scored through me at her blasé attitude. Sauntering across the kitchen, I smiled to my aunts and approached Grandma Elodie. She stopped stirring the frying pan where all the amazing smells were coming from and turned to greet me.
“Beth.” Grandma Elodie drew me into a hug. Like Aunt Ellie, she was tall, and we were almost equally matched as we embraced. She smelled of wildflowers and the spices from the fajitas she was making with Dad. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”
Guilt flashed through me. “Sorry I’ve missed the last few Sundays. It’s been hectic.”
“You do too much,” Grandpa Clark said from the island.
“Hi, Grandpa. How’s retirement treating you?”
“Retirement?” He quirked an eyebrow as he turned to Grandma Elodie. “I don’t think your grandmother knows I’m retired. I get a list of tasks to complete every morning.”
“Pfft.” She waved a wooden spoon at him. “It keeps you busy.”
Chuckling, I then greeted my uncles Adam and Marco, and then slid my arm around Mum’s shoulders before stealing a sip of her wine.
“You want a glass?” Dad asked as he chopped peppers.
“I’ll get it.” Hannah popped up off her stool to pour me one.
“Thanks.”
Mum slid an arm around my waist, pulling me into her side. I glanced down at her and tensed at the worry that hadn’t unwrinkled from her brow. “You really do need to start taking better care of yourself.”
“I’m too busy taking care of you and a million other clients,” I joked.
“Beth—”
“Jocelyn.”
She jerked at my dad’s voice. In my entire life, I had never heard my dad call my mum Joss, like everyone else did. She was always Jocelyn or babe. Dad gave her a meaningful look. “Let her be.”
Mum bristled. “I’ll tell my daughter I’m worried about her if I want to.”
“She just got here. At least let her have a glass of wine first.” He gave her a teasing smirk, and I felt her relax a wee bit.
“Fine.”
Aunt Hannah crossed the room to hand me the glass.
Tall, blond, and curvy, she was a knockout who seemed to age backward.
She was also one of the kindest people I’d ever met.
Although I was good at hiding it, I’d hero-worshipped her as a child.
Her husband Marco was, like Mum, an American transplant.
He’d moved from the US as a teen to live here with his grandparents.
He and Hannah were friends who went their separate ways and then reunited in their twenties.
Marco was reserved but laid-back and movie-star gorgeous.
In fact, Elodie had begged us to get a family photo a few years ago that included everyone currently in the room, plus Dylan, Will, and Bray, and the photographer couldn’t stop talking about what a ridiculously good-looking family we were.
That might be true, but these people were more than their shells.
I had a beautiful family because they were good and loyal and true. And I wanted nothing more in life than to live up to them, to make them proud.
“Thanks.” I gave Aunt Hannah a warm look as I took the glass of wine and considered Mum. I knew her pestering came from a place of love and concern. I shrugged off my stressy impatience and kissed her temple. “I’m fine, Mum. Promise.”