Page 18 of When We Were Young

I push open the door to the spare room, where the album is kept, and immediately Sookie opens one eye and looks at me. And, of course, Nicky, that one pesky kitten who always wants my attention, wakes up.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You go back to sleep.”

But he stands up on slightly wobbly legs and mews softly.

And of course my heart melts. I scoop him up and cuddle him, because I know that’s what he wants. What he always wants.

I tell him what a good boy he is and how he’s my favorite—even though I shouldn’t have a favorite—and stroke him. He’s predominantly black, but he’s got one little white patch on his chest. I fuss over him some more, and Sookie—more alert now—watches me. I take Nicky to the window, show him the swirling snow.

And wow, it’s falling faster now. A blanket covers Emma’s car.

Then I hear movement. I turn and see Emma in the doorway.

“A kitten?” She stares at me. “Oh my goodness.”

I nod. “Six of them.” I jerk my head toward the bed, where Sookie and the other kittens are. “Took her in and never expected to become a father.” I laugh. Somehow, that always gets me—and I say it at every opportunity I can. “It’s stressful.” I smile. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“It’s okay.”

Emma watches me as I talk to Nicky, before putting him safely back with Sookie. He climbs over two of his sisters in order to get the best position, closest as possible to the safety of his mother.

I can’t help but smile, then remember why I’m here and how important this moment is.

“Okay.” I head to the wardrobe. “Sorry about that.” I glance back at her, just for a split second, as I pull open the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe. “That’s Nicky, that one. He always wakes up and wants attention the moment I’m in here.” Shit. I’m rambling. She’s going to get bored. “Anyway, this is what I want to show you.”

The album’s slightly cool to the touch. It’s the leather.

Emma stares at me, a slight frown appearing, and I hand it to her.

“Open it.”

She frowns some more, then sits on the end of the bed. Sookie focuses all her attention on Emma as she opens the album. She stares at the photo for a long moment, then looks at me.

I can’t read her face.

Then she’s turning through more pages.

“It’s from the first time I met your parents,” I say when I see she’s paused with her finger on the bus ticket. It was the first time I ever visited Rose Haven too, a place she’d told me rarely experiences rain. “Remember? I had to get the bus over, and you were waiting for me at the stop.”

Rain plasters her hair to her face. Of course she’s not got a coat. Apparently, this is just a quick shower. So she tells me.

“Ready?” she asks.

And I nod. I think I’m ready. But her parents—this is a big step, and it sounds silly, but I don’t know how to act around parents. With my grandmother, she’s pretty chilled about what I do. But parents—that’s a whole other thing, one I have no experience of.

She nods, and a glassy look fills her eyes. It’s a look I don’t understand—then something’s buzzing.

Emma pulls out her phone, and I catch a glimpse of a woman—one that can only be Jenna—dressed in the most hideous outfit, pulling the most hideous expression.

“Woah. That is one scary caller ID.”

Emma tries to hide her smile, and she clicks to reject the call.

She rejected her best friend’s call. That’s got to be a good sign. My heart pounds as she returns her focus to the album. She pauses on the Christmas card this time.

Oh, that card.

Her cheeks are flushed with cold as she greets me outside, her eyes sparkling.

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