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He’s standing farther back, where I left him earlier, his eyes round.
Yeah… Maybe I should have warned him about my family, but I honestly had no idea so many members would be here.
I walk back to him and take his hand. “Everybody, this is Zane. Zane, this is my crazy family.”
“Who you calling crazy?” my cousin Dalton crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue. “Don’t listen to her, Z. She’s nuts.”
“Nuts. He said nuts!” Aunt Virginia giggles.
“Oh Lordy,” Aunt Alaska mutters and rolls her eyes.
Okay, so I have a lot of aunts living in the area. And judging from Zane’s still slack jaw, they are quite a sight.
Or maybe it’s my cousins he’s gaping at? Well, they’re a sight, too. All of them have their hair dyed in crazy colors, some going for the full rainbow spectrum.
Then I look up at his hair, tamer than ever before, but still a bright blue in the center, and smile. He’ll fit right in.
“Come in, Zane,” my seven-year-old cousin Cora says and links her arm with Zane’s, dragging us both into the room. “Time to meet the famous Aunt Carolina.”
“Famous?” Zane asks.
“She traveled to China and Japan and to Africa!” Cora proclaims. “She stayed with the Masari!”
“The Masai,” I correct absently as we approach the bed.
I swallow past a knot in my throat when Aunt Carolina opens her arms. I let go of Zane and hug her gently.
“Sweet girl,” she says and holds me for a long minute. “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” I whisper. “Sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”
“Ah.” She pats my back and lets me go. “I would have waited.”
My eyes fill with tears, and I struggle not to let them fall. Zane takes my hand and then, as if realizing my struggle, pulls me flush against him and puts an arm around me.
“Ah, Zane.” Aunt Carolina grins toothily, and her small eyes crinkle with pleasure. “I’ve heard about you.”
“You have?” Zane looks horrified, and it makes me laugh.
“No, I’m lying through my teeth. But now you can tell me all about yourself. Come here, let me look at you.” She beckons at him regally. “He sure is good-looking, Koty, my girl. Not enough color on him, though. Get him to dye his hair something more striking, will you? Pink, maybe?”
Zane sputters, and I double over with laughter.
“Come sit here, boy.” Aunt Carolina pats the bed by her side. “My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”
Zane sits down cautiously and flinches only slightly when my aunt grabs his hand and squeezes it.
“Strong man. I like that. Nice ink, too. Love the piercings.”
Zane just blinks. I guess he must be in shock.
My parents choose that moment to arrive, and I’m distracted from the Aunt Carolina/Zane show to greet them and be pulled into hugs.
When I next glance toward the bed, I find Zane laughing. I stare at him, trying to determine if he’s hysterical or just amused.
Amused, I decide when he bends down to whisper something in my aunt’s ear, and they cackle together like demented teenagers. I’m dying to know what he’s telling her. Dying to pull him out of here, so I can have him to myself again.
Crap, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.
