Page 32 of Jalen & Colby

Especially Colby. He’s already lost his own terrible family. I couldn’t stand it if mine hurt him as well.

I wander back up to the house with my empty tea mug, toying with the idea of at least messaging my sister. However, I’m distracted when one of the upstairs windows flings open and Jalen leans out of it.

“THERE you are!” he shrieks. “We have an emergency!”

I bolt the rest of the way up the garden and into the house, expecting it to be on fire. When I don’t see any smoke, I take the steps two at a time to reach their bedroom.

Which is also not on fire. But it certainly is covered in a lot of clothes.

“An-dre-as, help!” Jalen whines, stamping his foot and holding up a bundle of several different scraps of fabric at me. I assume they are all tops. Or skirts. Maybe scarves?

I let out a breath and arch an eyebrow at him. “This is the emergency?”

“We don’t know what kind of occasion it’s going to be tonight. Party? Casual? Formal?” He bats his eyelashes at me. “We have to befabulous,darling!”

I wave my hands at him. “Okay, okay,” I say, understanding that this actually would be pretty stressful for him. Colby is just looking at him with wide eyes like he’s questioning why he even got on a plane in the first place. “I’d go with party,” I say. “My family like a bit of pizzazz, and I know my nieces love any excuse to get their glitter and sequins out.”

Jalen visibly sags in relief. “What asensiblefamily you have,” he says with a completely straight face. “That narrows down the options by about half. Thank you.”

As Jalen rummages through what appears to be most of his wardrobe, Colby turns to me and anxiously plucks at his knitted jumper. It’s baggy, but in a way that looks like it’s on purpose. He’s paired it with light blue jeans, and with his freshly washed hair the whole look is so adorably soft that I want to hug him to me and never, ever let go.

“DoIlook okay?” he whispers. Jalen has some perky pop music playing, so he doesn’t seem to hear Colby’s question, but I certainly do.

“You look perfect,” I tell him truthfully. How could I ever worry about my family not liking these boys? They’re both so sweet in their own very different ways.

Eventually, Jalen is ready to go in a chic, frilly black-and-white shirt, shimmery purple trousers, and the same heeled boots he wore to that first dinner we all had together. He gets a bit sulky when I make him put a coat on, but after we step outside in the dark to get into the Uber, I hear a sharp gasp and he doesn’t say another word about it.

Score one for Daddy.

When we’re in the car and on our way, I’m surprised that Colby slips his hand over my shoulder. I turn and look at him in the back seat. “Are you all right?” he asks so genuinely it makes my heart ache. “You said it’s been a long time since you saw your parents.”

I nod. I’ve video called with them alot.But that’s not the same as seeing and hearing them in person. Definitely nothing compared to getting hugs from them both.

“I’m good,” I tell him, ignoring the little fluttering of nerves that I can’t quite explain or banish. Hopefully they’ll go away on their own once we arrive.

The house is just how I remember it. They moved down here when I was in my late twenties—largely because I helped them with the deposit—so I’ve never lived here myself. But I have a lot of fond memories of family get togethers, and some of the nerves mercifully turn to excitement.

It’s a large two-story detached house with a relatively long front drive and a pebble garden running alongside it with numerous potted plants. White lights adorn the base of the roof, the windows, and around the front door in an incredibly tasteful display that looks like snow has really fallen. I remember when they used to put a sign out front that said “Santa, stop here!” for the girls, but they’re too old for that now.

I can’t help but think that my boys might enjoy something like that, though.

I’m pulled from such a silly thought by the Uber stopping outside the front door. As the boys spill out of the car, I thank the driver and give him a five-star rating as well as a tip. Then it’s my turn to get back out into the cold.

And suddenly, I’m standing in front of the door, knowing that I have to be the one to ring the bell.

In the end, I push down my nerves and do it for my boys. I have to be strong for them. I don’t want them to think there’s anything to be nervous about. I brought them all this way after all. So I step up and push the button.

There are raised voices from within. Probably people yelling that someone needs to get that and others asking who it could be.

I’m so glad it’s my sister who opens the door.

For a second, Anisha just stares at me, her jaw dropping and her eyes growing wide. Then she screams so loudly I fear it’ll disturb the houses three doors down, but selfishly, I don’t care.

“OhmygodohmygodohmyGOD!”she shrieks as she throws her arms around me and almost knocks me off my feet. “Guys, come look! LOOK!”

The first to come into the hall are her daughters—Isla, twelve, and Esme, sixteen. If possible, they scream even louder than their mum as they launch themselves at me as well. Then it’s my dad, who clutches his chest, and my mum, who just starts crying. That gets a lump in my throat as they crowd around me in a massive cuddle pile, all talking at once about how terrible I am, asking each other if they knew, and telling me how good I look.

When the need to breathe becomes a bit too much, I gently push them off me, grinning with tears in my eyes. “Uh, everyone. I’d like to introduce you to my friends, Jalen and Colby. They’ve come all the way from Australia to spend the holidays with me. Well, with us.”

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