He drops a peck against my lips, then leans in to unbuckle my seatbelt and pulls me out of the car. I tug on the sleeves of my shirt. Technically, it’s West’s. The green flannel that I stole from him after camp and refuse to give back cos it smells like him. I fiddle with my outfit, before Westley snatches a hand and locks it with his. He pulls us toward the house, where there’s a small set of stairs leading up to the porch. He doesn’t bother knocking, just opens the security screen and nods for Aurora to go through first.
“Knock, knock,” Westley calls as we step into the front hallway.
“Kinda null and void when you’re already in the house,” says an older man standing at the end of the hallway.
He’s got one hand in the pocket of his jeans, a steaming mug in the other.
Westley chuckles as he steps past me and wraps an arm behind the man’s back. “Hey, Dad.”
The two men are almost the same height, but Westley’s dad stands a little taller. He’s got dark stubble spotted with patches of grey, the same pattern that extends to his dreadlocks.
“And who do we have here?” His dad keeps an arm hanging over Westley’s shoulder as they stand side by side, taking in Aurora and me.
Westley’s smile is big and proud as he introduces us. “This is Maevyn, and her daughter Aurora. This is my dad, Chris.”
“Oh my god, Joan, I need to go!” An excited voice echoes from a distant room. “They’re here! They’re here!” Hurried footsteps clamber over floorboards until a tiny lady bumps into Chris.
She looks like Mrs Claus in her prime. Bronze curls that bounce on her shoulders, hands clasped at her chest, decorated with silver glitter nail polish, and a pink apron with red ruffles along the edges. Script along the front reads,Not just queen of the kitchen.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” She steps forward, taking my hand and Aurora’s in each of hers. “I’m Sherie, but you can call me Chev.”
“I’m Maevyn.” I clear my throat, trying to banish the wobble in my throat. “This is Aurora.”
Chev’s hands cup our cheeks as she looks between us. Her palm is warm and soft, and a hint of berries teases from her perfume. The combination somehow settles my nerves.
“Absolutely beautiful. I can’t wait to hear all about how you met our Westley. Come.” She hooks an arm through mine and wraps her other around Aurora’s shoulders, leading us through the hallway. “Let’s have something to eat.”
“Hi, Mum.” Westley waves a hand as we pass him by.
Chev quickly glances over her shoulder. “Oh, hello, sweetheart.”
Aurora and I chuckle as we’re led through the house. The walls are covered in framed photos, and my eyes manage to find Westley throughout the years in most of them.
We come to a kitchen with powder blue walls and white cabinetry. A round, dark wood table sits on the other side of the room, already laid out with plates and cutlery and a jug of orange juice in the centre. It looks like a classic family kitchen, the kind always brimming with home-cooked food and endless love.
“Take a seat, dears,” Chev says as she points to the table, then crosses to the kitchen. “Can I get you a tea or coffee, Maevyn?”
I start to stand up, wanting to be helpful, but a gentle hand lands on my shoulder. “I’ve got it, baby.” Westley winks down at me. “Do you want a drink, Aurora?”
“I’m good with orange juice, thanks.” Aurora picks up the jug in the centre of the table and pours herself a glass just as Chris joins us at the table.
“What year are you in at school, Aurora?” Chris asks.
“Seven. I go to Heart City Secondary College.”
“Oh, that’s a fabulous school,” Chev says as she places a baking dish on the counter.
I lay a hand over Aurora’s. “She got a scholarship through the drama program.”
“Ahh, you want to act?” Chris asks.
Aurora shakes her head as she places her glass back down on the table. “Not really. I like writing or directing. I got into the program by submitting a short film that I wrote, acted in, and directed.”
“My goodness. What a bright young lady.” Chev comes over to the table, placing a big dish in the centre with scrambled eggs and mini pancakes. “Don’t trouble yourself, dear. I’ll bring all the food over,” she murmurs, flicking her tea towel behind Chris’s head as she turns back to the kitchen.
Chris leans over to Aurora, speaking low as he spies his wife with a devious grin. “Forty years I’ve tried to help this woman in the kitchen, she never lets me.”
“Mum and I like to work together in the kitchen,” Aurora says.
