Not too long after that, Tripp, Miles, and each of their families trail in.
“Oh my hell, Whizzle Tits, Jr. is home. My life is complete.” Lacey plops down next to me. Her wild and colorful tattoos dance across her skin, giving everything about her an amazing and curious glow. “I missed you, girl.”
She goes in for a hug and before I know it, she has my head cradled against her chest as she pats my head. Her low-necked tank top makes the entire confrontation uncomfortable as hell. And that’s a perfect example of my Aunt Lacey. She’s the one who embarrasses the crap out of you in any situation. You never know what will come out of her mouth. Oh, the stories I could tell. Hell, most would be unbelievable.
“Hey, kid.” Uncle Tripp peels his wife off me and wraps me in a hug. “We’ve missed our slugger around here.”
I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but Tripp is mine. He’s the quiet one of the bunch, but loves bigger than any of us and anyone who messes with his family is screwed. He coached me through high school and attended every one of my college games with the rest of the family.
“My turn, Dad.” Rose pushes her way in.
Man, she’s grown into a beautiful woman. She’s a bit younger than Mac and one gorgeous girl, being the perfect mix between her parents. Ironically, she’s nothing like her mother, being more of a quiet book nerd. It drives Lacey nuts.
Lacy and Tripp’s wild twin boys come racing in next. They’re nearing middle school age and just give me a simple wave before diving for the food. Tripp gives each of them a whack to the back of the head.
“Go wash up,” he growls.
“We did, in the river,” they reply in unison.
“You smell like fish guts. Now go.”
The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument and they roll out like well-
trained soldiers. The two of them flick water on each other at the sink while sneaking the middle finger to each other. Now, these two are all wild Lacey in their father’s body.
It dawns on me that over the last thirty or so minutes I haven’t had a worry in the world. My home did its job by etching my worries away and soothing my soul. I don’t have much time to dwell on it as the door flies open again.
This time it’s Willow and her crew. Miles, her husband, has his arm wrapped around her shoulder as their three children make their entrance. Ridley, the oldest and closest to my age, then Abbott who is around the twins’ age, and Wynnie, who is the youngest of the cousins in elementary school. We all greet each other with long hugs and jokes.
Then the three siblings stand side by side. Willow harasses her brothers, Cree and Tripp, for a selfie. It’s something she always does. Willow journals like no other, pasting candid shots in her notebooks. It’s super cool. As I stare at the three, I remember the story my dad told me once about how he always thought Tripp was his cousin until one day a letter from the past revealed the truth. Turned out my dad, Willow, and Tripp all have the same father, my grandpa that I never met.
I’ve heard through hours of countless stories that it was a rocky road for the three siblings for a few years. Time heals wounds and this crew only grew stronger from all of it. The years are living proof.
“Annie, you want any?” Tripp points at the last steak on the platter.
I shake my head as my stomach takes a dip. Maybe gorging on the salad wasn’t the best idea in the world.
“You okay?” Mom reaches over and grabs my hand.
“Yeah, just tired,” I reply, gulping down the regret and doing my best to calm down the Ferris wheel spinning in my stomach.
Everybody’s attention goes to the door when a knocking sound echoes over the chatter of the table. Hope soars as I glance up, trying to see who it is. The damn twins are too tall for me to see through them and find out who it is. It has to be Braxton. That’s why he wasn’t answering.
I crane my neck until I see the figure who walks in the door. That Ferris wheel creating havoc just turned into a full out tornado, threatening to cause me to lose everything in my stomach.
Weston Crusos walks right into my childhood home.
3
“Annie, you’re green,” Mom whispers into my ear.
“Weston,” Dad greets him.
Bile burns the back of my throat. The soles of my sandals slap down on the hardwood floor as I bolt up, causing my chair to thunder back on the ground. I’m going to lose it all right here and break right in half. Mom and Lacey call my name as I race upstairs. I barely round the corner to my bedroom, sprinting to the bathroom right off it. I make it just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
My stomach cramps in pain as I retch out, over and over until there is nothing left but dry heaves. Sobs wrack my body as reality settles over my being. Tears spill down my exhausted body that leans on the cold ceramic.
“Annie, girl.”