Page 62 of Otto: The Hawthornes

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin’,” he ordered, reaching up to run his finger along my jawline. “You got an escort and things are all set when you’re ready to go shoppin’.”

Without another word, he was gone.

My stomach was in knots as I finished getting dressed and tidied my hair. I’d never been very concerned with what I looked like—I was used to being the weird kid—but I was hyper aware of how…odd I’d look next to Otto’s mother. She was so trendy with her clothes and makeup. Staring in the mirror I bit at my lips, trying to make them a little pinker. I was going to stand out like a sore thumb.

When I made my way back into the main room of the building carrying my suitcase and jacket with Heather’s purse slung over my shoulder, there were several more people waiting. Only a couple of the men I’d spoken to earlier were still milling around, but a whole group of women had shown up at some point and turned to face me as I came through the archway.

“I’ll take that,” Otto announced, striding over to get my suitcase. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you,” I replied in surprise. I was extremely self-conscious. My sweater dress that had once fit loose and flowing now clung to my belly, outlining the roundness there. My cheeks heated, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. “You don’t think my dress is too tight?”

Otto frowned and leaned back to look me over. “Not at all.” His hand ran briefly over my belly. “It looks great.”

“Alright,” Heather called. “Hands to ourselves, or we’ll never get out of here.”

I was pretty sure my face was turning purple.

“Jesus, Ma,” Otto barked angrily when he saw my embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” I assured him, putting my hand on his chest. I moved around him and walked toward the group of women.

“Look at that,” one of them said in amusement. “She tamed the beast with a couple of words.”

“Pretty sure it was the hand on the chest,” another one countered. “That move works on Michael, too.”

“Esther,” Heather said, raising her voice above the others. “Meet the rest of our dysfunctional family.”

She was grinning as she said it, so I assumed she was joking.

“This is Otto’s aunt Rose.” She pointed to the woman who’d spoken first and then the other one. “My son Micky’s wife, Emilia.”

“Hi,” I said with an awkward little wave.

“Then Nova, Rumi’s wife.”

“I’m hisfiancée,” Nova clarified, smiling at me.

“Might as well be married,” Heather said with a shrug. She pointed. “That’s Charlie and Kara—both cousins—and you’ve met Callie.”

“Gram,” Callie corrected.

“Nice to meet you,” I said faintly. There was no way I was going to keep them straight.

“My youngest might meet up with us later, but she’s still at school,” Heather told me, looking me over. “And I’m sure you’ll meet everyone else at some point today. They won’t be able to resist coming to see you.”

“Everyone else?”

“This isn’t gonna work,” Otto’s aunt announced, coming closer. “She’ll be too noticeable. I’m sorry, honey, I think you look real nice, but—”

“No, you’re right,” Heather replied, still looking at me. She met my eyes. “There’s safety in numbers, yeah?”

I nodded.

“But if someone sees us escortin’ adaughterof Calgary around town, it’ll be noticed.”

I didn’t understand why she’d called me a daughter of Calgary, but I nodded anyway, glancing down at my dress. “I don’t have anything else,” I whispered apologetically.

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