We pull onto the long drive that winds through pines toward the lake, and the house comes into view, Lake Superior glittering cold and endless behind it. Lola’s breath catches.
“Oh my God, Tully,” she whispers, leaning forward. “This is gorgeous. Oh wow, the resort’s right over there.”
I grin, killing the engine. “In the winter, you realize how close it really is.”
She steps out and just stands there for a second, taking it in.
“This house was the last home my mom designed. She loved to mix French provincial with coastal cottage, and you’ll see she went crazy with that here. The place is huge, but she made everything feel warm and intimate.”
Before I can kiss her neck like I want to, the front door bangs open and out spills the circus. Kevin leads the way, running toward us, and then he’s a flurry of white as he twirls himself silly. When I bend down to pet him, I hold my hand out for Bill too, and he trots over, leaning into me.
“Two good boys,” I tell them. “Yes, you are. Oh yeah, you like those scratches, don’t you?”
Grayson barrels into me, hugging my waist. “Hi, Uncle Tully!”
I hug him hard, and he waves shyly at Lola. “Are you talleragain?” I ask him.
“Yep.” He laughs. “Dad says I’m getting taller every day.”
“He’s right.”
“Hey, you guys,” Noah says.
Camden’s right behind, Juju tucked under his arm, both of them grinning wide. Hugs all around, then Dylan appears next, with Chloe perched on his hip.
“Ooo, I like your turkey,” I tell her.
She beams, patting the turkey handprint painted on her cheek.
“Auntie Goldie gave it to me.”
“Good job, Auntie Goldie.”
Dahlia reaches Lola, giving her a hug before reaching for me.
“Good to see you guys,” she says.
Goldie and Milo are last, and she throws her arms around me and Lola at the same time, nearly knocking us over.
“You’re here!” Goldie squeals. “Finally! Lola, you look amazing. Come in, come in—Dad and the grandmas are about to lose their minds waiting.”
We find Dad at the kitchen island, carving what looks like three different birds. He washes his hands and gives us a huge hug. His sleeves are rolled up, and he’s wearing a knitted apron, his birthday gift from Grandma Donna.
“It’s good to see you, Lola. So glad you were able to make it today. Welcome to our madness.” He chuckles. “Son, you’re looking awfully chipper.” He grins at me and pats my face, leaning his forehead to mine. “Good to see you so happy,” he says softly.
“Love you, Dad.”
Grandma Nancy and Grandma Donna are at the long farmhouse table, arguing good-naturedly over whose stuffing/dressing is better while they set out silverware. Grandma Nancy calls it stuffing, and Grandma Donna calls hers dressing. Then the doorbell rings again, and it’s Juju’s grandpa and uncle, whom everyone has taken to calling Papa Hector and Uncle Hal. Their arms are loaded with pies.
I introduce them to Lola, and they turn on the charm.
“Lola, what a lovely name,” Papa Hector says, shaking her hand. He turns her hand over to see her tattoo of a small moonbeam with intricate flowers inside. “Just lovely.”
“Thank you,” she says, smiling warmly at him.
Uncle Hal steps in front of Papa Hector. “My turn,” he says, taking Lola’s hand and kissing it. “Is this guy treating you all right?” he asks, tilting his head toward me.
Lola laughs. “Yes, he sure is.”
