hands the wine to Joe, who moves to a wine fridge, and sets the flowers on the island. “I’ll get those in water right away.” Then she turns back for that hug.
My mom and I weren’t huggers, but some of my friends are, so I’m learning to go with it. I don’t even know this woman, but I should be happy, I suppose, that she’s so welcoming.
She draws back and studies my face. “You’re nervous.”
I blink. That was another thing my mom and I didn’t do—talk openly about our feelings.
“Terrified,” I say.
She laughs softly. “Of course you are. This must be unsettling for you.”
“Just a bit. But…” I hesitate to say this was what I hoped for. “But I’m happy to meet you all.”
And never mind me. This must be unsettling for her.
“And we are to meet you. Come on out. Dinner won’t be ready for a little while. We can have a drink and get to know each other.”
She’s so friendly it calms my nerves somewhat, and I follow her across the kitchen to a door that opens into a bright sunroom. It’s amazing—the walls are all windows looking onto a yard as big and green as Lincoln Park. The room stretches almost the width of the house and is full of more plants—ferns and palms—wicker furniture with thick cushions, and low tables.
Two young women rise from their chairs. One eyes me anxiously, the other smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She rushes at me. “Romy!”
I freeze. Yep, another hug.
She throws her arms around me and squeezes, then moves away. “Hi! Omigod, I can’t believe you’re here! This is amazing! And you’re so pretty!” Her eyes move over my face. “Your skin! Wow. We have to talk skincare products. Later.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“I’m Magan.” The other woman approaches me and gives me a more reserved hug. “Felise is a nutbar, ignore her.”
Felise’s red hair is long and wavy, multihued copper blond, where Magan’s darker red hair is styled in a sleek chin-length bob. Their faces are identical though, with creamy skin and big dark blue eyes. I tilt my head, seeing my own eyes. Wow.
They’re both about six inches shorter than me, tiny, and Felise leads me to a love seat and tugs me down. “You need a drink,” she says. “How about pink wine?”
I blink. “Um, sure.”
Joe hands me a glass of wine. “One glass of rosé,” he says dryly. “Don’t let these two overwhelm you.”
“Not these two,” Magan protests in an equally dry tone. “Her.” She points at her sister.
Felise shrugs happily. “Tell us all about yourself. What do you do for a living? Are you married?” Her gaze drops to my left hand. “No? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
I think my head is going to spin three hundred and sixty degrees. I take a gulp of wine. “Not married, no boyfriend, I’m straight and single.” I tell them about my job and Over the Moon.
“You could help us!” Felise says. “We have our own business too.” She gestures at Magan. “The Charming Chalice. Our website definitely needs help. Neither of us are good at that.”
“I’d love to help. What is the Charming Chalice?”
She tells me about the things they sell, and I nod, bemused by their unusual offerings but also imagining the designs I could do.
Cassandra and Joe have joined us and taken seats, sipping their own drinks as they listen to us three girls chatter.
“What about you?” I finally get to ask. “Boyfriends?”
“I have a boyfriend,” Magan says. “His name is Dallas.”
“I’m single too,” Felise says. “We can go out together to clubs.”
I grin. I was never much into the singles bar scene, but hey, I’m trying to expand my horizons. “Okay.”
At that moment, a man appears in the french doors to the sunroom.
“Oh, you’re here!” Cassie jumps up and hurries over to him.
I turn my head toward him.
My stomach swoops and my eyes pop open wide as I stare at Trace.
7
Trace
Like everyone else, I’m curious to meet this new family member.
I freeze.
I stare.
I shake my head.
Then my eyes meet Romy’s. Hers are wide and as stunned as mine probably are.
What the hell is she doing here?
My mind can’t make sense of this. Time stretches out as we stare at each other.
Magan calls out, “Trace! Hi! Come meet Romy.”
Is this for real? Is Romy Joe’s long-lost daughter? What the fuck?
Our eyes have stayed connected, and I take a few steps closer to her. “Romy.”
Her head moves from side to side, her eyes full of confusion. “Trace?”