“No, it’s. . .” She didn’t have the words. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She wiped her cheeks.
“Wait. It was Will’s idea?” Nadia asked, surprised. “You didn’t mention that when you were stealthily cluing us all in on your plan on the way to the dinner table.”
“Our brother, the romantic.” Kayla exchanged a look with her sister that said “aww”。
“I asked for brothers, mom. Brothers.” Will said, obviously embarrassed.
“Blow out the candles, Lauren,” Kayla said from across the table, bouncing her son on her lap. “Captain Louie here is dying to try that cake.”
Lauren closed her eyes, but when she tried to think of something to wish for, she came up empty. She couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect moment. This was more than enough for her, though she did wish things were different between her and Will. That would be her wish.
She blew out the candles and again, Will’s family erupted in cheers.
So, this was what it was like to have a family. She looked around the table as they all jumped into action, clearing dinner plates, cutting the cake and handing it out on small, turquoise plates. She got the first piece and requested a corner, the one with the most frosting. They talked and laughed and told years-old Christmas stories, looping Lauren in on everything Sinclair, and it couldn’t have been a more perfect night.
Except, she realized, for the very somber, very quiet man at her side.
After they’d all finished their legitimately tasty dinner （compliments to Paul!） and the surprise dessert that Lauren would never forget, she helped clear the table. She and Nadia stood at the kitchen sink, scraping and rinsing plates to be filed into the dishwasher when she spotted Will out in the big backyard through the window above the sink. He sat in an Adirondack chair positioned around a firepit, his back to the house.
Nadia followed her gaze, then looked at Lauren. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Oh, nothing,” Lauren said. “We’re just friends.”
“Friends, my eye,” Nadia said.
Lauren frowned.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.” Kayla was scooping leftovers into plastic containers, and said this as Kathy was entering the room.
“That’s a fact,” Will’s mom said.
“I promise, we’re just friends,” Lauren said, hoping that they were at least that.
“But you like him,” Nadia said matter-of-factly.
Lauren started to protest, but Nadia pointed an ice cream scoop at her, eyebrows raised, head cocked, daring her to deny it.
“He needs someone like you.” Kayla bumped her with her shoulder. “Someone who won’t let him slack off.”
“Someone who forces him to reach his full potential.” Nadia’s statement made Lauren think this wasn’t the first time they’d all had this conversation.
Kathy leaned forward for a better look of her son. “He still punishes himself for mistakes that are almost a decade old.” She dried her hands on a towel. “Ugh, that boy. I wish he understood the concept of grace.”
Lauren went still.
She certainly hadn’t helped with that, throwing old mistakes at him like a pitcher on a mound.
Her eyes wandered back into the yard, where Will sat, hands folded on his lap, looking up at the sky. “What’s he doing out there?”
“Oh, that’s his ‘thinking spot.’” Kayla moved to Lauren’s other side. “He always said it was too loud in the house. . .”
“Too loud? Whatever!” Nadia said, too loudly.
Kayla continued, “。 . .so he had to go out there to get any real thinking done.”
“What do you think he’s thinking about?” Lauren asked.
“You,” they all three said in unison. They erupted in laughter, and Lauren’s face flushed in embarrassment.
“Leave the dishes, Lauren,” Kathy said. “Go talk to him. Put him out of his misery or make him the happiest guy alive.”
“I’m telling you, you’ve got it all wrong.” She paused. “But I do need to talk to him, so—it’s okay if I go?”
The three, almost choregraphed, looked at one another and laughed. Kathy shooed her out the door, and Lauren hoped she could figure out what on earth to say when she came face-to-face with this man who had completely, utterly, and wholly stolen her heart.
Again.
Chapter 32
Being home was harder this year than ever before. His parents’ house was instant comfort, like an oasis, like a rest stop after miles on his weary soul, but seeing Pops in his current state—well, he wasn’t prepared.