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“You’ve outdone yourself, Felicita,” Kamila comments. There’s not an empty corner on my dining table. The plates are full, and my guests are dining away, intaking my food with indulgence.
I cleaned my home yesterday, but today, I made it my mission to set my dining room. I spent a little too long figuring out a seating plan.
In the end, everyone took a seat wherever.
To my surprise, Jordan sits next to Alex, and they’re not bickering. It helps that Kendrick’s on Alex’s lap, as joyous as ever.
“Yes, it’s a perfect dish,” Fylox adds to Kamila’s comment. He says it like a line from a script, but I’ve learned not to take it personally. Kamila’s man is strange, but he’s ferociously protective and invested in our family. He can’t help being antisocial.
Ivy, my brother’s girlfriend, nods in agreement, her cheeks rosy. She’s embarrassed, and there’s guilt all over her features.
I don’t blame her for missing our last family dinner.
For Jordan to bring her around, it means that she had a solid reason for her absence.
As the hostess of the family event, I eat little to nothing. On my plate, I push around a tomato with my fork. Next to me, Kamila’s already on her fourth plate. She eats for two, and it makes me happy that she enjoys my dinner.
Jordan’s relationship with Penelope Jade is already fun to experience, and she isn’t his real grandkid. I can’t wait until we meet the new baby girl. Jordan will have his hands full.
“Why are you the only woman my brother’s ever brought home?” I blurt out, and the table goes quiet.
Måns is upstairs, giving me the bite that I need to get through this. I can ask uncomfortable questions. I trust Ivy, but I must examine her intentions.
“I love—”
Jordan interrupts her, “She’s my partner. We’ll be making it official soon. There’s no need for an interrogation.”
Ivy chokes on her salad, and Jordan promptly bends her over, helping her clear her throat while she coughs. My eyes remain stuck on his hand and how tender he is with her, stroking her back.
I shiver where I sit.
I gaze at the ceiling. What am I doing with Måns? He’s a boy, younger than my daughter. He wouldn’t know how to handle me.
“I need to know whether we’re leaving you in good hands,” I insist, shifting my focus to the table. Kamila. Fylox. Alex. Baby Kendrick. Jordan. Ivy.
Jordan wants this to work out. He didn’t insist on sitting at the top of the table, leaving it to Alex. This is important to him.
“I promise that I’d do anything for him,” Ivy vows. She clears her throat, setting aside the cutlery in her hands. She’s a proper young woman, squirming around my brother. He’s a tough man, a man people look up to, a man people respect. Nobody talks back at this man, and I suspect she might be the only one who could get away with it. “Anything isn’t enough. Jordan deserves the world. I promise to make him as happy as he can be.”
“Ivy, will this ruin our dynamic?” Alex asks. Kendrick holds his toy giraffe, squealing at it. His daddy fed him, and now, he’s getting ready for a nap. Yet, our young king, as Jordan lovingly refers to him, isn’t ready for bed. He senses his grandfather’s presence, and he wants to play with him, steal his attention.
“I’ve found a new therapist for Jordan, and he will continue his sessions with him if it’s a good fit. As to Kamila and Fylox… If you wish to keep seeing me, you’re welcome to. You can try out other options. The hospital expanded this month, and it managed to lure in top graduates from all around the world—”
“Ivy, I want to keep seeing you. We like you,” Kamila reveals. Fylox nods curtly. “We can’t open up to new people the way we’ve opened up to you. In the years that we’ve known you, you’ve proven yourself trustworthy, and I apologize for not taking that into consideration when I waltzed into your office like you’d betrayed me. I’ve had a short fuse lately, and this baby isn’t helping. She’s big, and she’s kicking… I wonder what my mom felt like when I was in her belly. If I stretch any further, I’ll fit twins inside of me the next time.”
“You’ll be all right,” I assure Kamila, and she huffs, taking another bite of food.
Dessert comes and goes. Kamila forgets about her pregnancy worries. She decides to share one of the old stories with her dad and me, the painfully funny ones. At any table that she decides to open up at, I’m the only one that understands. The rest laugh because Kamila is a born entertainer. She spins her stories, twisting pain into something positive. Something ridiculous. Something Aram would be embarrassed about.
The end of the night barges in, and I fight my family over who’ll help clean up.Nobody. This is my home, and I have control over my kitchen. If I need help, I’ll call the palace.Notmy family.
“It was nice to see you today,” I tell Ivy as I hug her goodbye by the door. Alex, Kamila, and Fylox stand behind me. The baby’s napping in the dining room. I feel small, almost crushed in the presence of my new family.
“I want Dad to be happy, and if you can promise to help him achieve that, you’re on my good side, Ivy,” Alex says from behind me, admitting defeat. We gaze at Jordan and Ivy as they make their way to their car.
“Thank you, son,” Jordan says. There’s a tremble in his voice that not a lot of people outside of me can catch. Fylox picks it up, but that’s normal. When I notice Ivy rubbing Jordan’s hand more tenderly than before, I make my decision.
I must let my brother go.
