Page 74 of Knotty, Nice, & Holiday Lights
I’d just finished fitting the extensions in the dining room table with the help of Matthew’s dad, Roman. Conversation was kept pleasant, but I’d be a liar if I claimed that didn’t make me a little sad.
Watching Matthew and Izzy with their families all morning, smiling and laughing, reminiscing about the days of old, has been nice, but makes me wonder what things would have been like if my dad hadn’t been such a twat.
But when I look at Will, integrating so well with the families, I immediately chastise myself for any depressed thoughts in mymind. He truly lost his family. If I wanted, I could take a flight and a drive and be at the doorstep of either of my parents.
Now I have my pack brothers, the gap between me and my half-brother seems even wider. Having never met him, I wonder if he even knows I exist?
Maybe it’s time to find out.
“Are you okay, Sexy Brit?”
I chuckle at Izzy’s whispered greeting, then lean over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I am indeed.”
She wraps her arms around me so we can look into the living room together. “This is nice.”
I hum in agreement, hugging her shoulders with one arm. “I’m glad we got most everyone together.”
She stays quiet for a while, then, like a little mind-reader, she says, “You could have invited your family.”
“I know,” I breathe. “But Mum doesn’t like to travel far anymore, and I haven’t spoken to Dad in years. I don’t even know if he’s still married to the same woman, or if he lives with my half-brother.”
“I think you should find out,” she says, again, reading my thoughts. “After the New Year, think about maybe searching out your dad, or even your brother. He’s grown now. I bet you two would have a lot to talk about.”
She’s not wrong.
“I’ll think on it, love. Promise.”
“And then he walks out of the bathroom, completely naked and proud of it, telling all our guests about his ‘fire hose.’” Roman roars with laughter while Matthew buries his mortified face in his hands.
“I was four,” he groans.
Roman sobers as he looks at his son. “It feels like yesterday.”
The love between these two is so evident, we all feel it. I can tell by the warm expressions on everyone’s faces at the table.
Josephine, Izzy’s mum, pipes up then. “Christian and Isabelle used to be inseparable,” she starts. “They used to come home from playing outside, completely covered in mud, or tracking sand into the house! I thought that when we had a girl, I wouldn’t need to worry about all that a second time.”
George, Izzy’s dad, lets out a loud laugh. “Isabelle has never been a fragile flower.” He looks at his daughter with a smile.
“Not that you two didn’t try your hardest to make me into a frilly, pink-dress-wearing little princess.” Izzy’s words are accusatory, but her tone is light and playful.
“But you love pink.” Will looks absolutely angelic when he says it.
Izzy cuts him a look. “Sure, when it doesn’t look like some tulle monster vomited all over me.”
“Gods, do you remember that dress mom and dad made you wear on the first day of school your third-grade year?” Christian can hardly contain himself, apparently, and his reaction draws a grin from me just imagining the monstrosity in question.
Izzy groans comically, leans back in her chair. “I hope that all the photos of me wearing that atrocity have been burned.”
There’s silence for a long moment before Josephine stifles a smile and pushes away from the table, rises from her seat, then runs off like a young, spritely thing, causing Izzy to scream before rushing after her.
“I’ve seen this dress,” Bec says before sipping her glass of wine. “You’re in for a treat.”
“How’d you see it?” Christian asks, surprised.
“Ever hear of a photo album?”
Ouch. This woman is brutal. She didn’t miss a beat.
