Doris laughed a little. “I suspect it wasn’t me at all. I think the kids charmed her all on their own.”
Nicola let Doris go and looked searchingly into her eyes. “I don’t want to sound pushy, but . . . I really hope you and the professor . . .”
Doris ‘s emotions were still a fast-tumbling stream, but she answered the unspoken question. “Yes, even at my age people might find happiness.” She glanced past Nicola’s shoulder to Sylvia’s fixed smile, and her feelings swooped again. “I’m glad you like him,” she added, to firmly draw attention away from Nicola’s unhappy mother.
“We do. Even the kids like him.”
“You were right,” Doris said. “They are adorable.” And as Nicola turned to her uncle, Doris’s gaze was drawn to Pink, who had gone over to Xi Yong.
Pink patted Xi Yong’s knee as she smiled up at him. “Horsie.”
Xi Yong smiled down at her, then put his finger to his lips.
Pink’s eyes widened, then she grinned. Doris realized the little kid now had a secret of her own, and was hugging that fact to herself. She had to smile, considering how new that secret was to her
.
The kids were buckled into their car seats, and Brad and Nicola got in, now that all the goodbyes had been said. The car backed up and started bumping slowly down the half-swept driveway—where it came to an abrupt stop at the spot where the driveway met the road.
Another car was coming straight at it. Both were moving too slowly for there to be any danger. After a few seconds, Brad pulled his car around, and drove down the hill as the other car turned into the driveway.
“Who can that be?” Doris’s mother asked, arms akimbo.
“One of the neighbors, maybe?” Jacob asked.
Everyone seemed to have a question or comment to offer as the car approached slowly . . . everyone, except for Sylvia.
“Oh,” Doris breathed at Joey’s side. “Oh, let this be . . .”
Sylvia had gone stock still, her profile still as marble, as a well-kept luxury car drew near, and stopped.
Then the entire family fell silent as an elegant, dark-skinned man climbed out. His big brown eyes arrowed straight to Sylvia, who ran toward him, then slid on a patch of mushy snow that had ice under it.
The man caught her by the shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Sylvia,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. “I couldn’t get past the roadblocks down below. And I tried calling—”
“We’re out of reach of cell towers up there. I told you that,” Sylvia said, but she was smiling.
“I know. But I tried anyway. I even tried a singing apology at about two a.m. night before last.”
“Singing?”
“I may have been trying to drown my sorrows in Laphroaig whiskey.”
“Ugh,” Sylvia exclaimed, teary and laughing at once.
“So delete that message, please, once your phone is online again. There are, ah, a lot of other calls, too, most of them apologies. Syl, I was a total dick. I know I said I wouldn’t get serious anymore, after I got burned. . .”
Sylvia wiped her eyes. “You don’t have to say anything, Gary. I know I was dancing to the same tune about my ex.”
“But that first night away from you, I realized what you meant to me. And so I canceled all my clients, threw some socks and a shirt into a bag, and started up here. But I couldn’t get past the roadblock. So I’ve been cooped up in a godawful motel for the past hundred years—I’ve been frantic that I’d never be able to see you. To explain. To tell you how much I love you.”
Sylvia gave a cry and flung herself into Gary’s arms.
Joey leaned close to Doris and murmured, “So, there’s something I haven’t told you about nine-tail foxes.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “We have an affinity for troubled lovers. Our natural magic helps them. Romance just tends to … work out, around us.”
“Well, that explains a lot about this weekend.” She couldn’t help laughing aloud, full with happiness to the brim. Her and Joey, Nicola and Brad, Xi Yong and Isidor, now even Sylvia and Gary. Perhaps even Marrit and Vic someday, who knew? All around her, her family’s happiness was falling into place, one person and one couple at a time.
Turning to Joey, she met his tender smile, and her heart was so full she teetered on the edge of tears.