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“I told you I would be here at seven thirty. It’s seven thirty-two. And there was traffic.”
“There’s always traffic,” Dakota replies.
“You have a beautiful home,” I say, glancing around the small entryway.
There’s a row of cubbies stuffed with random items—hats and cases of water bottles and empty shopping bags—on the left. The stairs to the second floor are straight ahead.
“Thank you. Craig and I bought it when we were just starting out. You would not believe what it’s worth today.”
I hide a smile and glance at Piper.
Told you so, she mouths.
“These are for you, Dakota.” I hold the flowers out.
She takes them from me tentatively, stroking the delicate petals. “Well, aren’t you sweet. I’ll go put these in some water. Everyone’s already in the living room.”
I follow Piper down the hallway, glancing toward the right first. It’s a dining room, the long table surrounded by chairs and covered by a linen tablecloth. The room to the left is filled with people. It’s overwhelming, especially when they catch sight of Piper and all start cheering. Probably how she felt when we showed up at Wagon Wheel.
I know Piper is the youngest, and it’s obvious in the affectionate, protective way her brothers greet her, passing her around for hugs. Three of them call her Pipsqueak, which makes me grin and Piper flush.
The gray-haired man in the armchair by the fireplace rises last. Her dad. There’s an air of authority that makes his choice of profession obvious.
He says something to Piper that has her nodding her head and smiling, and then she turns toward me.
“Guys, this is my friend Kyle.”
She didn’t use the friend title when she introduced me to her mom, and I’m not sure if that was intentional or not.
I lift a hand in what I hope is a casualI’m not intimidatedwave. “Nice to meet you all.”
I wait for the recognition or the challenging stares, but it doesn’t come. Just friendly handshakes all around before I take a seat on the couch next to Piper.
Piper’s brother Alex is on my left. “You work with Piper?” he asks me.
“Not really.”
He raises a questioning brow at that response, but moves along the conversation without clarifying. “Did you just move to the city?”
“No, I’m just here for a visit.”
“Where do you live?”
“Uh, Texas.”
Based on his expression, he’s putting some pieces together. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. What Piper might have shared about her work trip to her family.
There’s commotion in the doorway as Dakota reappears along with a brown-haired woman. They’re both carrying plates of appetizers. Two of Piper’s brothers stand to help transfer the food to the coffee table. I’ve forgotten both of their names already.
Once the food is settled, everyone, except Dakota, sits down. The living room is larger than I would have guessed based on the size of the house, a comfortable assortment of furniture providing plenty of seating. Family photos line the walls.
“Kyle? Piper? Can I get you two anything to drink?” Dakota asks.
There’s a quiet inhale from the couch across from me.
“Just water, Mom. Thanks.”
“Holy shit,” a woman’s voice whispers.
