Page 45 of No Greater Love
"He's an anesthesiologist?"
"The youngest one at Johns Hopkins," I confirmed with an eye roll. "We've all heard. Repeatedly."
Nate was quiet for a moment. "We don't have to go."
The simple statement, free of judgment or pressure, made something in my heart twist painfully. "No, I want to. I want them to meet you. And Paige." I took a breath. "I just want you to be prepared. For the chaos. For the questions. For... all of it."
He stepped closer, his hands finding my waist. "I think we can handle it."
"Even Paige?"
His smile widened. "Especially Paige. She's been talking about nothing else since you mentioned your cousin has a trampoline."
I laughed despite myself. "It's more of a death trap with springs, but yes."
"Then it's settled." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Now, can we eat? Paige is forming revolutionary movements in the living room over hunger."
As we set the table together, I tried to shake the lingering unease. It wasn't just introducing Nate to my family that had me tied in knots. It was the realization that I cared—deeply—what they thought of him. Of us. Of whatever this was becoming.
And that terrified me more than any family reunion ever could.
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Sunday arrived with merciless sunshine and humidity that turned the air to soup. I'd changed outfits three times before settling on a yellow sundress that my mother had bought me last Christmas (a strategic choice). Nate wore khakis and a blue button-down that made his eyes look even more intensely green. Paige had agonized almost as much as I had, finally choosing a purple skirt and white top, her hair in neat braids that I'd helped with the night before.
My parents' house was a forty-minute drive from Nate's place in the suburbs. As we turned onto the familiar street, my stomach clenched at the sight of cars lining both sides.
"That's... a lot of vehicles," Nate observed, his calm facade cracking slightly.
"Told you. Thirty people, minimum."
Paige leaned forward from the backseat. "Are there really going to be that many kids?"
"At least ten," I confirmed. "Most of them are monsters. You'll fit right in."
She grinned, braces flashing. "Awesome."
We found a spot three houses down. As we walked back, I could already hear music and laughter from the backyard. Nate reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I was grateful for the anchor.
"Ready?" he asked.
"No," I admitted. "But let's do it anyway."
We entered through the side gate, and the full chaos of a Williams family reunion hit us like a wall. The spacious backyard was transformed—tables laden with food, coolers overflowing with drinks, children shrieking as they ran through sprinklers. And everywhere, family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, family friends who'd been around so long they might as well be blood.
"Tasha!" My mother's voice cut through the noise. Loretta Williams approached, resplendent in a teal dress and matching headband, arms outstretched. "Finally, you made it."
She embraced me briefly, then immediately turned her attention to Nate and Paige. I watched her eyes make a lightning-fast assessment—taking in Nate's posture (military straight), his age (evident in the silver at his temples), and his eyes (warm but guarded).
"You must be Nathan," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Loretta Williams. Tasha's mother."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Williams," Nate replied, his handshake firm. "Thank you for having us."
"And this must be Paige," my mother continued, her expression softening as she looked at the girl. "My, aren't you pretty as a picture."
Paige smiled shyly. "Thank you for inviting us, ma'am."
"Ohh, listen to those manners!" Mom looked impressed. "Well, come on back. Everyone's dying to meet you. Paige, honey, the other children are over on the trampoline. Though you might want to get some food first."
