Page 51 of Just My Puck
“Haha,” Caleb says, rolling his eyes. “I suppose it is pretty crazy, considering I grew up with you two.”
As they start bickering, a kid—maybe ten years old—shuffles into the room, his tablet glued to his hands. He’s followed by a man who I assume to be his grandpa.
“Owen, my man!” Caleb says, fist-bumping the kid, then hugging his dad. “How are you, Pops?”
Turning to me, he introduces me to the two of them. Owen eyes me curiously—maybe because of the sneezing—while Caleb’s dad, Robert, offers a welcoming smile. Naturally, he has the flawless Hawthorne genes as well.
“You okay?” Caleb asks me. “You might be allergic to something here.”
“Yeah, I’m—” I sneeze again. “Fine.”
Well, that isn’t completely true. My nose is prickling, and my eyes are a bit wet. “You’re probably right,” I admit.
“Let me get you some meds before we eat.”
The dinner Irene prepared is delicious. I have this feeling, deep inside me, that family holiday dinners were never a thing in my life. Even if they were, this year could have turned out a lot different with me in the hospital, and I feel so lucky to be a part of this celebration.
“So,” Irene begins as she leans forward, her brown eyes settling on me. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
I almost choke on my glazed carrot.
“Mom!” Caleb’s voice booms next to me.
“Irene!” Robert scolds at the same time.
“What? I’m just making conversation,” she says, winking at me, and I blow out a chuckle.
“I already told you about Aria’s situation. Please be respectful.”
“It’s okay, Caleb,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. When I glance back to Irene, I notice the way her eyes are glued to my hand on her son’s shoulder. I remove it right away. No need to give her—or me—any ideas. “I’m not sure whether I have a boyfriend or not, truthfully. Although, I’m leaning toward ‘no.’ I don’t feel like I’m in a relationship, if that makes sense.”
“Totally,” Gaby says, sipping her drink. “If you had an annoying man dictating your every move, you’d know. These things leave a trace.”
I laugh, dabbing my mouth with my napkin. “Yeah, probably.”
Irene rolls her eyes, then gives me an exasperated look. “See what I’m dealing with? I’m never going to be a grandmother again with these two.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “Forgive me for prying, but it’s the first time our son has brought a girl home, so it might be messing with my brain a little.”
“Oh, here we go again,” Robert says, setting down his fork. “Grandkid talk! We have one. It’s perfect that way.”
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Owen says, not missing a beat of the conversation and making us all chuckle.
“It’s all right, truly.” I nod to Irene and Robert. “And thank you for opening your home to me. I’m very grateful.”
“Well, whoever raised you,” she says, grabbing her drink, “they raised you right.”
I do my best to keep my smile locked in, but her words hit me hard. Lisa starts arguing that she’s the best child because she brought her parents a grandson, while Caleb and Gaby are quick to remind her ofall the times she drove their parents crazy as a kid. But I’m barely listening, too busy wondering if I have siblings like them and where the people who raised me are this Christmas.
Caleb Hawthorne
Aria has been quiet since dinner. I’m mad at my mom for reminding her that she has no family—and for pushing the dating thing on her. I guess that phone call to debrief her was all for nothing. When my mom has her mind set on something, nothing else matters. She means well, I know that. But it must feel really weird for Aria.
“Is it time for presents yet?” Owen asks for the third time, and we all laugh, agreeing. We cluster together on the couches, close to the Christmas tree.
Aria is sitting next to me, but her eyes are staring listlessly at the throw blanket wrapped on the armrest.
“What’s wrong?” I lean in, my voice low.
She swallows hard, her finger trailing along the fabric. “I think I had a blanket just like this one.”
