“I know. I can hardly wait to hear all about it. Feels so casual to have it at a ballgame, but I’ve met Dallas Anderson a few times at corporate events. He seems like a very grounded man. Genuine, you know?”
“Good, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to gross him out with all the sweat stains I’ll leave on my skirt from wiping my hands so much.”
My mom grins, leaning against the granite countertop. I’ve always thought my mother was superwoman in disguise. A woman with a lucrative career, a heart of gold, and an addiction to her children and grandson. She is devoted to her family, even though some people thought Mom and Dad were nuts for adopting two prepubescent kids with trust issues.
I’m glad they didn’t listen. In truth, I couldn’t design better parents. They never quit on us, they love us unconditionally, and rarely do I even think about the fact that we don’t share the same blood.
“Did you come by for a pep talk?” Mom asks as she pours a cup of coffee. “I have at least five on standby for you and your brother, and at least twenty cute ones for Charlie boy. If he asks, Nana one hundred percent believes he will be the first man to live on the moon.”
Another giggle from upstairs causes us both to snicker.
I accept a mug from my mom, even though I’ve already had a cup.
“I’m just waiting for Space King to be ready. Dad gave him a new Kings get up. I tried to talk Oscar the Grouch into coming, but he’s dug in his heels.”
“Want me to talk Drake into it? I’m persuasive.”
“He won’t come, and you know why.”
Mom’s smile fades a bit. She sips her coffee, a distant look in her gaze. “On that subject I wish I could give a little bit of advice. Afraid I’ve got nothing to go on, Tweety.”
“Like the rest of us.”
“Willyoube okay?” Mom gives me a side hug.
“I’ll be fine.”
All at once, the kitchen is invaded with a drum roll on the wall, and my dad steps into the kitchen. Sasha calls Jack Williams a silver fox. Peppery hair that is messy over his ears, a silver-tinged beard, and a form like a lumberjack. He’s intimidating to behold until you get to know him, then he becomes the gentlest man in the world.
Like Mom, he’s addicted to his kids and Charlie. I wonder if their inability to have kids is why they love so big. I’d never say they were perfect, we had plenty of teenage spats, but they were the softest of places to fall growing up. I never doubted they truly loved me as if they brought me into the world themselves.
“Everyone, we’ve got a true sports fan!” Dad steps aside, beaming, and Charlie bursts in, decked with gold and black Kings logos from head to foot. A neon green glove dons his hand. My mom gushes with my dad over how adorable he looks, how sporty, how smart. A thousand compliments rain over my nephew.
No doubt, by the time he’s in first grade, he’ll have the most inflated ego in the school.
Charlie squeals in delight when Drake appears at his back, scoops him up, and flips him over his shoulder. “You look like you could walk right out on the field, buddy,” he says, kissing his cheek.
“Daddy!” Charlie squeals again when Drake runs his scruffy cheek against his neck. “Put me down.”
Drake complies and kisses the top of his head. Underneath, messy locks of golden hair stick out in all directions. Nothing can tame that kid’s head of thick, wavy hair.
“Shoes tied?” Drake bops Charlie’s nose.
“Yep.”
“Sunscreen?”
Charlie wiggles his nose as if his dad can still see the white paste slathered across his pale skin.
“You’re going to listen to Pops and Auntie A?”
“Nope.”
Drake laughs and smashes him against his legs in a low hug. “Smart mouth.”
“You comin’, Daddy?”
My brother’s smile falls, and I know my twin well enough to know he’s avoiding my sharp look. “Sorry, buddy. I’ve got to study.”
