CHAPTER ELEVEN ~ GRAEME ~ FOURTEEN YEARS AGO
I’m lounging on the couch in my parents’ flat, a place I’ve known my entire life.
I didn’t grow up in Edinburgh, but MacKinlay Tower has been owned by my family for over a hundred years, and we stayed here whenever we visited Edinburgh throughout my childhood and teen years.
And yet, despite the familiar setting, I feel like I’ve entered an alternate reality.
Across the room, Abby and Drew are sitting on either side of my mum at the large table near the row of windows that overlook the Royal Mile.
The girls were helping Mum prepare lunch, but the kitchen wasn’t big enough for the three of them, so Dad offered to take over while Mum showed them my granny’s cookbook.
Seeing three of my favourite women crowded together at the table makes my chest tighten with a sensation I can’t quite pinpoint.
It’s affection and joy, but a strange sense of longing too.
The girls are leaning into Mum and giggling as she flips through the book and points things out.
I’ve seen Granny’s cookbook enough times to know their amusement is likely caused by the doodles, notes, and anecdotes in the margins.
The thing is, Mum doesn’t show that book to just anyone.
The year before I moved to Canada, I was dating a girl called Orla, and my parents insisted I bring her home for dinner one night.
They were friendly, but it was one of the rare occasions when my warm and loving mother had her walls up from the get-go.
I wondered if I was imagining it until Orla showed interest in Granny’s cookbook, which Mum was referring to for something, and Mum shooed her out of the kitchen.
Thankfully, Orla took it in stride and said her mum was the same way when anyone encroached on ‘her domain’.
After she left that night, Mum told me Orla was ‘a perfectly nice lass’ but she didn’t think she was the right fit for me.
I’d argued that we were perfect for each other, and accused her of being one of those mothers who thinks no one would ever be good enough for her son.
Dad had stepped in and told me to watch my tone, but seventeen-year-old me thought he knew everything, and I said I’d think twice before ever bringing a girl home again.
I’d apologized first thing the next day.
Even at that age, I knew how lucky I was to have such wonderful, loving parents.
If the worst thing they ever did was want the best for me, I was being an ungrateful bawbag who needed to pull his head out of his arse.
Over the next few weeks, I realized Mum was right—Orla really was a perfectly nice lass, but we weren’t right for each other—and shortly after that, we ended things on good terms.
The sound of Drew’s distinctive laugh pulls me from thoughts of the past. I watch her and Mum exchange a fond look.
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think it’s safe to say Drew will someday be my sister-in-law and my parents’ daughter-in-law.
Likely not soon, considering she and Brodie are about to embark on what they refer to as ‘real life’, and they’re aware living together for the first time will test their relationship.
With the exception of my parents, I’ve never seen a couple who’s more right for each other, so I’m sure they’ll not only survive, but also thrive.
In another life—the one I rarely allow myself to imagine because it’s pure, fruitless fantasy—my mum would be sitting with her two future daughters-in-law.
It’s obvious Mum adores both girls, and the feeling is mutual.
Abby told me the other day that she’d been up late a few nights with jet lag, and Mum had stayed up with her, drinking whisky-laced tea and talking until Abby was sleepy.
She didn’t go into detail about their conversations, but there’s an easy affection and camaraderie between them that tells me they went deeper than surface topics.
Mum closes the cookbook, and the three of them rise from the table.
She loops her arm around Abby’s shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her temple.
Something passes over Abby’s expression; I recognize it immediately as the look she gets when she’s overwhelmed with Big Feelings.
I expect that as much as she enjoys the attention and affection from my mum, it stirs up complicated emotions about her past.
The way she ducks her head and hunches her shoulders slightly makes me want to wrap her in my arms and tell her how safe and loved she is.
That fierce protectiveness is an instinct I never experienced until Abby came along.
It’s like some primal part of my brain came online and flooded me with the desire to protect her and make things right for her, even though I’m fully aware she’s strong and resilient, and doesn’t need rescuing.
Abby and my mum leave the room, and Drew drops down on the couch next to me, releasing a contented sigh. “Think your mom would adopt Abby, Fern, and me?”
“In a heartbeat,” I say.
She smiles absently as she curls her legs under herself and angles to face me. “I really love her, Graeme,” she says, laughing lightly as if she can’t believe what she’s saying. “Your dad too. Is that weird?”
“Nah. It’s not like they were strangers before you came. You’d talked to them on the phone and video-chatted with them.”
“True.” She bobs her head, gnawing on her bottom lip for a moment. “I guess I worried it wouldn’t translate into real life. That they’d meet me and think I was too much or not enough, or that Brodie had made a horrible mistake falling in love with me.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she carries on before I can offer any reassurance.
“I know that’s my trauma talking,” she says with a rueful smile.
“My therapist and I have spent a lot of time working through that, but it’s still there, lurking beneath the surface.
Being with your parents, especially your mom, is healing something inside me, though.
I’ll admit, her warmheartedness and caring freaked me out at first and made me want to run, but I made myself lean into it instead.
To accept it and remind myself I deserve it. ”
“You do deserve it,” I say firmly, taking one of her hands between both of mine. “You deserve all the love and good things in the world.”
She blinks rapidly, letting out a quiet sniffle. “Thanks. I just need to keep reminding myself of that.”
“Happy to chime in with reminders whenever necessary,” I say.
“I appreciate that. We need to do the same with Abby too. I think the whole ‘wonderful, loving mother figure’ thing is poking at old wounds for both of us.”
“I suspected as much,” I admit.
She makes a humming sound as she frees her hand from mine and leans back, pulling the elastic from her hair to redo her ponytail. Her shrewd gaze remains trained on my face the entire time. “That shouldn’t surprise me. You know Abby better than anyone.”
“Except for you, of course,” I say lightly, surprised she didn’t tack that bit on herself.
She hums again, tilting her head back and forth.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder.” Whatever my expression is, it makes her quick to add, “It’s not a bad thing.
It’s not like she’s some different version of herself with you or anything, but...
close? I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words, but I’m grateful she has you and that you love her so much. ”
That last part makes my heart slam against my ribcage.
I do my best to keep my expression neutral and not give in to the instinct to turn away.
I’m aware she’s referring to my love for Abby as a friend, but still, it stirs something inside me.
Drew is the least subtle person I know, so if she had even an inkling that my feelings for Abby went deeper than friendship, she wouldn’t hesitate to mention it.
“You two are easy to love,” I say. “Fern too. Having the three of you in my life the last few years has made it infinitely better.”
Drew’s bottom lip juts out, and she drops her head onto my shoulder. “I feel the exact same way. And you know what else is easy to love? This country. I’m obsessed. Your mom has been dropping hints to Abs and me that we should move here.”
My ears perk up at this. “Oh?”
“Mmhmm. It’s so tempting, not gonna lie.
I hate that we’re all going our separate ways soon.
The thought of us all being together in this amazing city is...
well, it’s exciting.” She sits up to look at me, and my heart plummets.
I know before she says it that there’s a ‘but’ coming.
“It’s not realistic, though. Brodie and I talked about it the other night, and we agreed it wouldn’t work.
We also agreed it’s something to consider down the line. ”
“Have you talked to Abby about it?”
Her gaze flicks to the living room doorway, then back to me. Voices drift down the hall. I hear Brodie’s deep laugh among the feminine ones, which tells me he and Fern are back from the errand Mum sent them on.
“I haven’t said anything to her,” Drew says.
“Honestly, I keep expecting her to bring it up, especially after the hints from your mom. She clearly loves it here, and she keeps saying she wishes we had more time. I guess she’s banking on the fact we’ll come back to visit.
People always say they’ll return to the places they love, but it’s different for us because we have family here now. ”
Warmth spreads through me. “Family and a home, whether it’s here with my parents or my place once I’m settled. You’ll always be welcome.”
There’s a commotion in the hallway, followed by the others filing into the room, filling the space both physically and with their chatter. Brodie squeezes onto the couch on Drew’s other side, while Abby and Fern both start toward the empty space beside me.
“You sit with Graeme, and I’ll take the armchair,” Fern suggests, gently pushing Abby in my direction.
Abby offers me a smile as she slides into the small space beside me. “For a second there I thought I might have to sit on your lap.”
Thankfully, the sound of my mum clapping her hands to get our attention stops me from imagining Abby in my lap. Dad pulls two chairs over from the dining table and kisses Mum’s hand as she drops into her seat. In her other hand, she holds three gift bags, which she settles on her knees.
“Girls, we have something for each of you,” she says excitedly. “The other day when I was out with you, I noticed Drew and Fern picking up souvenirs here and there, but Abby, you didn’t get anything for yourself.”
Abby looks startled at being put on the spot. “Oh. Photographs are my favourite type of souvenir.”
“And they’ll certainly make beautiful mementos,” Mum says with an approving nod. “But I thought the three of you might like something else to remember this trip, and to remind you that you have family here.”
Dad takes the bags from Mum and hands them to each of the girls. Brodie and I eye each other over Drew’s head; his expression tells me he’s just as clueless as I am.
Mum motions for them to open the bags. She’s practically bouncing in her seat now, reminding me of countless Christmases and birthdays when she could barely contain her excitement. The only thing she loves more than feeding people is giving meaningful gifts.
Over the sound of rustling tissue paper, Drew lets out a gasp, which is echoed by Abby a second later. I focus on Abby, watching as she unfurls a cashmere shawl in the MacKinlay tartan of dark blue and green plaid cut with fine lines of red and black.
“The three of you are part of the MacKinlay Clan now,” Mum says, her voice wavering with emotion.
All three girls rise in unison and converge on my parents, hugging them and thanking them.
I glance at Brodie, unsurprised to see tears shining in his eyes.
It was obvious from the start that our parents loved and accepted Drew, and the fact they’ve opened their hearts and home to this little family we’ve created is a gift.
I do my best not to think about said little family returning across the ocean in a few days without me.
I watch as Mum enfolds Abby in a tight embrace, rocking her back and forth. “You’ll always have a home here with us,” she says.
I don’t catch Abby’s choked reply as she squeezes my mum tighter, then moves on to hug Dad.
When she straightens, she wraps the shawl around her shoulders and plays absently with the ends as she eyes the door.
I imagine her excusing herself and disappearing to her room, but she turns to face me instead.
My stupid, yearning heart flips in my chest as a slow smile spreads across her face. Something compels me to stand and open my arms as she crosses the room. She steps into my embrace without hesitation, and I tuck her close to my body, resting my chin on top of her head.
“I’m an honorary MacKinlay,” she murmurs against my chest. “This tartan seals the deal. You’re stuck with me forever now.”
As much as I wish she meant ‘forever’ in a different context, the fact she accepts that she’s officially part of this family means the world to me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”