“Again, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Oh, Maria, please,” Wendy clucks, stepping forward without delay and taking my face into her hands in a way only a mother can do without making you feel uncomfortable. “Stop apologizing. I have four boys who would make what you just said look like a children’s program.”
I laugh a little at that, despite the heaviness of my lasting embarrassment.
Wendy looks at me, smiling warmly, just like she did when I was young—just like my own mom used to—and a pang of longing for the unconditional love of her parenting hits me hard.
Man, I miss her sometimes. Her guidance and understanding and just flat-out love.
“Look at you, lovely girl,” she whispers, making my nose sting and my lips curl up into my mouth. “My goodness,” she states reverently, studying my face. “You grew up beautifully.”
A blush creeps its way from my chest to my neck, and I find myself gently rubbing at Izzy’s back to give myself something to do. “Thank you. It’s really great to see you.”
“Can I?” Her smile overwhelms her put-together face as she reaches for Izzy, asking for permission with her eyes, and I carefully lift my baby out of her carrier and hand her over while observing.
Izzy is comfortable with Wendy from the get-go, and I can’t help but wonder if she can sense some piece of Remy in his mom. Because for as little as she knows of him, there’s an almost unspeakable comfort there when she’s in his arms.
Truth be told, I can’t blame her. I know the feeling all too well. Remington Winslow’s embraceiscomforting.
“Wow,” Wendy whispers as she looks at Izzy in awe. “She sure is precious.”
Once Izzy is settled in her arms, Wendy backs out of the space of the door and ushers me in with the soft voice of a woman talking to a baby. “Come in, come in, both of you,” she muses, focusing mostly on the baby in her arms. “Everyone is ready and waiting to see you!”
“I’m so sorry that I’m running a little late, by the way,” I apologize as I quickly set my baby carrier and diaper bag down by where everyone’s bags and purses appear to be.
“Nonsense, sweetie. Dinner isn’t formal around here.” She scoffs a little, laughing. “Nothing is formal with Jude and Ty around. They may be a lot older than the last time you saw them, but I can guarantee they haven’t changed a bit.”
Jude and Ty were always the most rambunctious of the four Winslow boys.
I follow her down the spacious front hall, studying the photos on the wall of Winnie, her nearly identical twin of a daughter, and a handsome man I assume is her husband, and several with Remy in them too. He smiles the biggest in the ones with his mom and Winnie and Lexi, and a tickle of warmth fills my chest.
He’s always been the most complex mix of grumpy and loving, but around me, he’s pretty much been the latter. I can’t think of a time he wasn’t patient with me when we were teenagers or even a moment when he raised his voice.
He was like a different guy with his brothers, always teasing and grumbling and shooting insult arrows in their archery tournament of banter.
But to me…he was always sweet.
As Wendy clears the opening at the end of the hallway, a chorus of cheers erupts toward the baby in her arms—my baby—and several asses shove off from their spots leaned into the kitchen counter and come forward with their hands extended.
Winnie and Ty are at the front of the race, and Ty hip checks Winnie out of the way.
“Gah! Ty!” she shrieks, but her brother is completely unfazed.
“Too slow!” Ty snarks back. “Last time I saw this little bun, she was still in the oven. I have to hold her first as a kind of ceremonial thing. You understand.”
Wendy grins at me knowingly, her eyes silently saying,See what I mean?as she passes Izzy over to Ty.
He cradles her softly to his chest, looking down at her with big, moony eyes. It’s such a change from the little shit-stirrer I remember from my childhood that it almost doesn’t compute.
Love, it seems, really does have the power to tame some of the wildest men.
“Maria, I know you remember Ty and Jude and, of course, Winnie,” Wendy starts to introduce me to everyone in the room. “This is Rachel, Ty’s fiancée. Sophie, Jude’s wife, and Wes, Winnie’s husband.”
Everyone greets me with genuine smiles and kind words, and I try hard to keep all the names and faces sorted in my head.
“The only new people we’re missing are my Howard, Flynn’s wife Daisy, their twin boys Ryder and Roman, and Winnie’s daughter Lexi,” Wendy updates, but I’m starkly aware that we’re also missing Remy.
I don’t know where he is, but without him here reassuring me, I kind of feel like I’m going to puke.