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“Thank you for coming,” I say earnestly. Looking uncomfortable, Sig follows my mother-in-law into the pantry to look for extra jars to use as vases.
Etienne full-on hugs me, which is a thing I’m still getting used to.
“Etienne,” I say, surprised to feel the words getting stuck in my throat with emotion.
“Big brother. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“What can I do to help?”
Feeling silly asking for help, I send him on the scavenger hunt with Sig to gather up all our mason jars for flowers, beverages, and who knows what else.
I predict this house will be filled with flower arrangements by the end of the week.
A tearful Flora, never one for royal propriety, jumps into my arms so violently that my entire spoon, full of dough, disappears into the bubbling broth.
“I’m so sorry about Hailey’s grandmother!”
I squeeze my baby sister and try not to wince at the spasm in my lower spine.
“Anything you need, say the word; I’ll make it happen,” she says once I set her feet back on the floor. Considering the gravity of everything Flora has to deal with these days, she looks as flushed and as happy as she ever has. Better, even.
“Showing up is exactly what I needed,” I say.
“Tell Hailey not to worry. We’ll all make our own beds and see to our own food. It’s all arranged,” Flora says, nodding toward the well-dressed assistants milling around the place.
Again. Excellent idea to have built a large house.
My heart is overflowing.
As much as I feel whole with Hailey and our little family, I can’t begin to describe what it’s like to have all my favorite people and their spouses under one roof. Good thing we decided to build four bedrooms in addition to ours and the nurseries.
Over the commotion, Tilly squawks indignantly.
Sigurd’s wife, Stasi, claps her hands and jumps up and down. “Baby time!” she shouts before floating down the hall to the nursery to greet the niece she hasn’t seen since Christmas.
Through the window over the sink, I watch my wife hugging none other than Kala.
I’m pleased everyone has moved on, and Kala has found her happy place.
There will always be people who see Kala as little more than a royal wannabe and a hanger-on, but Hailey, being Hailey, won’t hear any slander of Kala. Hailey knows what it’s like to be considered a “hanger-on.”
“Thank you,” Hailey says. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to.”
At least, I think that’s what she says if my non-expert lip reading sees.
“Of course, I had to come,” Kala says.
The screen door creaks and slaps shut again, and Toad and his wife, Brenda, appear in the kitchen, ignoring the state department escort’s questions.
“Don’t touch my wife,” Toad grunts, putting himself between her and one of the agents.
“We had to come up and see what was happening. You know, Toad’s so nosy,” Brenda says sheepishly.
I give them the duties of filling glasses and opening wine as I’m halfway through cooking my version of chicken and dumplings.
The house is full of laughter, chatter, and clatter.
