“Dylan, don’t open all the bags,” I say, but he’s already elbow deep into another one when the doorbell rings. Getting up, I walk to it and open it, spotting a woman standing there. She is dressed in jeans and a top and stilettos. Her blond hair is fixed perfectly, and her makeup is a tad too dark for morning. Let’s not even discuss the heavy lip gloss. I can probably see myself in the reflection.
“Oh, hi,” she says, “you must be the maid.” She smiles. “Is Justin home?”
“Um …” I start to talk, but Justin is behind me.
“Not the maid, Gloria,” he says, almost hissing. “What can I do for you?”
“We are just letting you know that we are going away, and that our daughter might be coming by.” She now ignores me. “She was hoping you could show her around.”
“Yeah,” Justin says, “not likely.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You should let security know that you’re leaving,” he says. The elevator pings, and the same security guy from before is coming up with the food. “Just in time. Gloria is leaving, and she needs someone to show her daughter around.” He reaches out and grabs the food. “Have a great night,” he says and closes the door in Gloria’s shocked face.
“Do I want to ask if you know her daughter?” I ask him, and then I want to kick myself for even asking.
“Never met her,” he says, “but if she is anything like her mother …” He shudders. “I’m not interested in the least.” He turns to walk into the house and calls Dylan.
“Well then,” I say and walk into the house with him, and I stop in my tracks. Not only does it look like a bomb exploded, but all the bags are empty. “What is all this?” I ask Dylan, and he points at the clothes.
“That’s all yours,” he says, pointing at mountain one. “Those are mine.” He points at mountain two. “Can I go eat?”
“Um …” I start to say.
“We are going to eat, and then you’re going to clean up that mess,” Justin says, getting plates out. “And you are going to fold all the clothes and put them away.”
“Put them away where?” Dylan asks, going to the stool.
“In your room,” he says, and my head snaps to him. I wait for Dylan to say something, but he just asks for pizza.
“After that, can we go to the pool?” Dylan asks, and Justin nods his head.
“Sweetheart, come and eat,” he says, and I look over at him. His eyes fly from the pizza to mine, and he smiles at me. At first, it starts off as a smirk and then his whole face lights up. I take it into my memory, and I know that I’ll remember this moment for years to come.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Justin
“I’m not folding Mom’s clothes,” Dylan says, taking his last bite of his spaghetti. “She has to do her own chores.”
“It wouldn’t be a chore if you hadn’t emptied the bags,” I say, and he just shrugs. When the bags arrived, I knew that Zara overdid it. I can’t say I was surprised or that I even cared. But I was worried about what Caroline would say, and although she looked like she was going to murder me, having Dylan there protected me.
“Go wash your hands,” Caroline says when Dylan slips off the stool, bringing his plate to the sink and rinsing it, then putting it in the dishwasher. Crooked but at least he did it. He hops and skips over to the couch that holds his pile of clothes. When he starts to fold them, I want to get up and go help him. “Sit down,” she says. I look over, and she tries to hide her smile behind her glass of water, but her eyes are lit up.
“I wasn’t going to do anything,” I say and lean in to kiss her lips. “Okay, fine, I was going to do yours at the same time.”
“Sit,” she says. “He made the mess, so he gets to clean it.”
“Fine.” I get off the stool and take my plate and hers to the dishwasher. “Go fold your clothes.”
“I can make piles of things you can donate,” she says, and I stop and look up to glare at her, and she laughs. Sitting on the edge of the couch, she starts to fold her mountain.
I clean up the kitchen when my phone rings, and I look and see it’s Zara on FaceTime. “What did you not understand with my instructions?” I say and look over to see Caroline look at me while Zara just laughs her head off.
“I may have gone a tad overboard,” she says when she finally stops laughing. “Hey, it’s like when you walk into a sports shop, and you come out with seven sticks.”
“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “I want to say I was surprised, but …”
“Do they fit?” Zara asks, and I look over at Caroline.
“She got me twelve pairs of jeans,” she whispers and then motions with her fingers the one and the two.
“She hasn’t tried anything on,” I tell Zara.
“I chose all the guy things,” Evan says, and he comes into view. “Tell Dylan I did that.”
“Thank you!” Dylan yells and then smiles. “You’re still better than him,” he whispers to me, and I laugh.
“We arrive on Friday,” Zara says. “I think Mom and Dad are coming in on Thursday.”
“Cool,” I tell them and look over to see that Caroline is looking down and folding clothes, and I can see her leg moving. “When is everyone else coming down?”
“I think Friday,” Zara says.
“Mark is actually going to arrive on Saturday,” Evan says. “In the morning.”
“We should have a big family dinner on Saturday,” Zara says.
“Can’t,” I say. “I’m taking Caroline out.” Looking over at her, I see her head come up. “I already made plans.”
“Oh, look at you, being all romantic,” Zara teases me. “We can watch Dylan.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. He can teach Evan some new tricks on the Xbox,” I joke with her, and Dylan just smirks.
“Actually, I’m going to come down on Thursday. I want to get on the ice Friday,” Evan says, then looks at Zara. “Beautiful, can we go down on Thursday?”
“I guess,” she says. “Okay, I have to go now as I have to up my planning.”
“Take care,” I tell them. “See you Thursday.”
“Family dinner Friday night!” Evan yells, and I nod my head right before they disconnect.
“Okay, are you two almost done with the mess?” I look over at them, and Dylan points at his pile of clothes.
“Can you help me carry them to my room?” he asks, and I nod my head, but I stop in front of Caroline first and give her a small kiss, then surprise her with another kiss.
“Why don’t you get changed to go to the pool, and we can head down?” I ask, and she just nods her head.
“I’m going to finish folding the clothes first,” she says and then looks at me. “I don’t know what to do with all these clothes.”
“Wear them,” Dylan says as if it’s a no-brainer.
“She bought me two cocktail dresses,” she says, picking one up that is white. “And high heels.” She picks up the white strappy heels that go with the dress. “I’ve never worn high heels.”