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“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hill,” Rueben says politely.
“Rueben?” Mom asks, glancing my way as she makes her way to Rueben. “When Cricket said she was bringing a friend with her, she didn’t mention it was you! It’s been so long,” she adds, giving him a hug and broad smile.
“It has.”
“Rueben and I ran into each other at the alumni reunion. We’ve been hanging out and catching up,” I tell them casually, but I worry they’ll be able to see right through my attempt to keep it nonchalant.
“That’s nice, sweetie,” she says, a knowing smile on her face.
“I’ll take the bags upstairs,” Dad says, pointing to the stairs.
“I can help, sir,” Rueben states, reaching for his bag and following my dad upstairs.
“It’s so good to have you home, even if it’s just for a night,” Mom says, squeezing my hand.
“It’s good to be here,” I reply, truly meaning it. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed them and this place until I’m back here after a prolonged absence. I usually come home once a year, around the holidays, but missed the last few years. Mom and Dad decided to take a small vacation for Christmas last year, making a short stop in San Francisco to see me. So, it’s really been more than three years since I’ve been home.
Glancing around, I find the house exactly the same with the exception of updated pictures of my nieces. “These are new,” I say, approaching the mantel.
“They are. Your sister had them taken last month at the park,” Mom says, smiling fondly at the photos of her two granddaughters.
“Does Ash know what she’s having this time?” I ask, referring to my sister’s third pregnancy.
“Not yet, though we’re all secretly hoping for a boy.”
I gaze at my nieces’ faces, their grins and their matching dresses. Even though there’s a huge age gape between them, they still look adorable in their yellow and blue sundresses. Chloe is twelve and has long brown hair and green eyes like her mom’s, while Courtlyn, at four, favors her father’s lighter blond hair and freckled features. Truth be told, they don’t resemble each other much, but that doesn’t matter. They’re sisters in every way that counts.
Chloe was the product of a short-lived relationship my sister had in college. She thought they’d get married and live happily ever after, which is partly why she quit school. But the ink had barely dried on the marriage certificate before he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage and a kid. He left Ashley mere months after Chloe was born, sending her a check every month to help take care of her.
Ashley met Shawn a few years later at the supermarket. He helped her reach something on the top shelf and ended up chatting with Chloe while waiting in the checkout line. After that, they seemed to run into each other every Sunday morning when getting their groceries, and it wasn’t long before Shawn was asking her out. There was only one stipulation, though: she had to bring Chloe with her.
They were married about six years ago when my sister got her dream wedding, and soon after, Shawn adopted Chloe. He makes her happy and doesn’t care that Chloe’s not his biological daughter, which makes him a winner in my book. Even after they had Courtlyn, he never treated my oldest niece as if she were any different. She is his daughter, and I appreciate him even more than ever.
“She’s going to find out next month what she’s having,” Mom says.
“I can’t wait to find out,” I tell her, glancing at Dad and Rueben as they return from the upstairs. “I secretly hope it’s a boy too.” Turning to face the guys, I ask, “Did you get his things put in the guest room?”
I can already tell something’s up by the look on Rueben’s face. It’s part humor, part surprise, which has me returning my gaze to my mom.
“Didn’t we tell you?” she asks, an uncomfortable chuckle slipping from her lips.
“Tell me what?”
“We turned the guest room into a playroom for the girls,” she says casually.
“Oh, uh, no, you didn’t. So, where is Rueben going to sleep?” I ask, thinking about the layout of the house. My room consists of a full-sized bed, and while the thought of snuggling with him on that bed sounds like heaven, I’m not sure I really want to share my bed at my parents’ house. Too many questions I’m not ready to answer.
“He’ll have to sleep on the bottom bunk,” Dad says, taking a drink of his sweet tea sitting beside the recliner.
“Bottom bunk?” I ask, glancing between my parents. When did they get bunk beds?
“Well, I assumed you’d want the top bunk since you’re lighter. Not that Rueben won’t fit up there, but it might be easier for you to climb up and down than him. The poor man will probably hit his head on the ceiling,” Mom says.
“Wait, hold up. Bunk beds?”
“Well, yeah. The girls wanted them for when they spend the night here, so we sold your old bed and bought them instead,” she replies.
“So, Rueben and I have to sleep on twin bunk beds?”
