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“I didn’t even start.” Maya passes him Sophia.
“The next words out of your mouth were going to be something along the lines of,So, how do you handle him?” Matthew says in a tone that’s similar to Maya’s frank cadence.
“Fair.” She sucks on her teeth. “Take off your coats and come in.”
We do as she says, and Maya lugs one of our suitcases through the house. Matthew shoots me a quick nod and follows her down the hall.
Aaron grabs my hand. “Come on. Mima said you have a present under the tree, and I could ask you, n-nicely, if I can maybe help open it.”
“Aaron, you have your own presents to open,” Maya calls out from down the hall. His tongue shoots out at his mom, then he smiles up at me.
A rush of warmth swoops over me as the tot leads me into the house.
There are trophies, ribbons, and framed diplomas. An abundance of photographs, stockings with initials hanging off a mantel, and handprints in clay with various dates that adorn the walls.
The den is filled with people. They’re lounging on a large couch and scattered on the floor, all gathered around the beautifully decorated fireplace. The tree is bursting with colorful lights, handmade ornaments, and garlands of popcorn and cranberries.
This is what a home is supposed to feel like.
“Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Molly,” Matthew announces, his face stuck in a permanent grin. A wave of heads turns toward me. My pulse rushes like I’m on stage at a school play.
Almost all the siblings share a likeness to Matthew. The same dark brows and a smattering of light eyes.
“She’s a hugger,” Maya announces, and within moments, I’m swarmed with welcomes. I’m a cozy mush beneath the sea of limbs looping around me and the smiles beaming off of everyone’s faces.
“We’ll quiz you on all of our names at the end of the night,” Mac says, giving me a toothy grin. His choppy, bright green hair makes his pale face glow.
“No, we won’t.” Matthew playfully rolls his eyes and gives each member of his family a giant hug.
“Hi, you’re pretty.” A young girl with bouncy chestnut curls that mimic my own and a tinge of pink under her deep-brown cheeks peeks up at me. “Are youBrave?”
She thinks I’m a Disney princess?I must get my ego boosted by little girls more often.
But the word is also a reminder that I am, in fact, brave.
I crouch. “Only sometimes, but don’t tell anyone. Today, I’m Molly. What’s your name?”
“Taylor,” she says, pulling her sibling to her side. “This is Willow.”
“It’s nice to meet you both.”
The girls giggle and rush back to their spot by a beanbag.
As I stand, trying to take everything in, an elderly woman appears from a door at the opposite side of the room. Her eyes are a replica of Matthew’s, shades of deep blue peeking through the smiling crease on her face.
At her side, a man with familiar jet-black hair, peppered gray, wears a matching apron. Both of them are covered in flour, specks of it clinging to their arms as they make their way toward me.
“It’s swell to meet you, Molly.” She pulls me into the biggest embrace, smelling of sugar and freshly baked cookies. “Oh dear, sorry; we’ve got a mess all over us, and I’ve just smattered your pretty cardigan.” Matthew’s mom wrangles herself away from me and gives me a once-over. “Well, aren’t you just so adorable.”
I blush at her assessment, then at the wink she shoots Matthew. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Hud—”
Her hand shoots up immediately. “None of that. You’ll call us Mary and Jack, that’s that.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Mary and Jack, your home is so beautiful.”
She cocks her hip, sending her palm to her waist. “Lots of memories in this house, and we’re so delighted to make some new ones with you.”
If my heart could combust, I think it would. Frankly, it still might.
