“Vagina, vagina, vagina.” She chants several times before Chase puts his palm to her mouth.
“God, Mama.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs.
She grins at him before turning her attention to me. “And there’s the son I didn’t birth.” She grabs my arms and pulls me into a hug.
I smile into her shoulder as I hug her back. “Hi, Mrs. Kingston.” I mummer in her ear.
She pulls back and swats my arm too. “Greyson Montgomery,” she scolds. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”
“Uh, not to…” I scratch the nape of my neck awkwardly.
“Exactly,” she tries to look pissed off, but the slight curve of her lip gives her away. “It’s either Wendy, or Mama—which ever you’re comfortable with, okay?”
Smiling at her, I nod my head. She knew about my past—the whole family did—and not once have they made me feel like a burden for being here, it’s like I fitted into the family perfectly. Even if it was slightly awkward for me at first.
In freshman year when the guys were all packing to get ready to head home for Thanksgiving, they asked me why I wasn’t packing, and I told them I had nowhere to go—which wasn’t a lie—and was spending Thanksgiving alone in mine and Theo’s dorm room.
Chase grabbed a duffle bag from the closet, threw it at me and told me to pack because he was taking me home with him, and he didn’t want to hear a “no” coming from my lips.
I was hesitant at first, I didn't feel comfortable invading the little time he had with his family, but he was persistent, and I ended up going. Chase hadn't explained the actual reason I was there because he stated it wasn't his business to tell, but I ended up breaking down in his yard the night before Thanksgiving and his mom walked out asking if I was okay, and I ended up revealing everything about my childhood to her.
She cried with me and decided there and then that I was officially part of the family.
“Right,” clapping her hands, she grins widely. “Let’s get into that house! It’s fucking freezing out here.”
Grabbing both bags from the floor, we follow Mrs. Kingston into the house. I place the bags onto the floor by the door so we can take them upstairs later, and then we walk into the kitchen where Mr. Kingston and Nova are laughing at something on her phone.
At the sound of our footsteps, they both look up and their faces light up.
“My boys!” Mr. Kingston grins, standing from the kitchen stool and stalking toward us.
“Hi, dad.” Chase smiles, pulling him into a hug.
“Chasey boy, my lord, what is that on your face?” Mr. Kingston reaches his hand out and rubs it along Chase’s beard.
“It’s a beard,” Chase rolls his eyes. “I know you can’t grow one but—”
Mr. Kingston shuts him up by smacking his arm, making us chuckle. “Your Mama likes me clean and shaven.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Fucks sake, not this again,” Nova slaps her hands to her face in embarrassment. “You’re in your forties, nobody—especially your kids, want to know about your sex life.”
“How do you think you were all made, huh? Certainly wasn’t by a stork dropping you off on our doorstep.” Mr. Kingston grins widely, turning in the direction of his wife and winking at her.
If there’s one thing to know about the Kingston’s, it’s that they’re so open with each other about everything. No topic is off limit, no matter how embarrassing. Mr. and Mrs. Kingston especially love embarrassing their children with topics about sex, something I find amusingly funny to watch.
“Greyson, my boy.” Mr. Kingston turns his attention to me, pullingme into a hug.
Oh, the Kingston’s are also a family of huggers too—something that took me awhile to get used to. I’d never been hugged before Mrs. Kingston wrapped her arms around me tightly while I was sobbing, telling her about my childhood.
She held me tightly, offering a sense of security and warmth I’d never experienced before. And it was at that moment that I realized how much a simple hug could mean to someone.
But also, how sad is it that I didn’t experience my first hug until I was nineteen?
“Hi, Mr. Kingston.” I grin.
“Now, now, boy,” he shakes his head as he pulls away from the hug. “It’s Alessio, or dad. You know that.”
“Dad, leave him alone,” Nova rolls her eyes as she rounds the kitchen island and walks toward us. “He’s being polite, maybe too polite.” She teases.
