Page 82 of Holiday Romance
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she says, and draws me into another hug. This one is a proper one and I feel the same twinge of sadness I always do when I see her for the first time after a few months. I don’t think it will ever be easy being so far away from her, even if it is what I want.
“You need to sit down,” I say. “How are you even standing right now?”
“With great difficulty.” She unlocks the car as Andrew brings his stuff around to the trunk. “Have you seen these ankles? Of course, whenever I complain to Mam, I get a twenty-minute lecture about how she had to carrytwobabies. She’sthrilledabout finally getting to meet this guy, by the way. The famous Andrew in the flesh.”
He smiles. “Famous, huh? No pressure, then.”
“We also expect our guests to repay our hospitality with solid gold? Molly, I don’t know if you told him the rules?”
“There’s a giant tube of M&Ms in here if you play your cards right,” he says, hefting his case inside. Zoe plants a hand over her heart.
“And there we go. Andrew is at the top of the list. Goodbye, Logan! We barely knew you.” She glances at me. “He gets shotgun.”
“But I’m your sister!”
“And he’s theguest. Get in before I make you walk, my baby’s cold.”
And with that, we get into the car.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The unease starts to kick in the closer we get to the house. Zoe peppers Andrew with questions the entire way, which gives me the chance to sit back and not think for a few minutes. Or at least, try not to think. I guess I should feel a sense of relief. All that money, all that stress, all those chocolates given to grumpy cab drivers, and here we are. We made it.
But all I feel is apprehension. I can’t help but wonder if as soon as we step foot back in Chicago, this will be over. That we’ll go back to just being Andrew and Molly. I mean, sure, we had a cute time in London. A little back and forth, oh, I’ll take you ax throwing. But that was said with twinkling fairy lights and an eccentric cousin and that new warm contentment that didn’t have anything to do with our real lives. With our friends and jobs and responsibilities. Throw those into the mix and anything could happen.
“Did you see the O’Reillys got an extension?” Zoe asks as we turn onto our road. We pass a familiar red-brick house on the corner with a very notable box taped onto the side. “Mam’s fuming. Say it’s ruining the whole street.”
“She’s just jealous.”
“Of course she’s jealous.” She pulls in sharply, parallel parking with enviable ease. “Home sweet home,” she says, sending me a smirk.
I ignore her, gazing up at the small, terraced house of my childhood. “They’ve seriously made you move in with them?”
Zoe lives in a decent apartment down by the docks. One of those fancy buildings with its own Pilates studio and at least five independent,veryserious coffee shops within walking distance.
“Only for a few weeks,” she says as we get out of the car. “Not going to lie, I kind of like being looked after. Just don’t tell them.”
We follow her up the small laneway, Andrew grinning at the lit-up reindeer in the garden next door.
“Mam?” Zoe calls as we step inside. “I found your second-favorite daughter!”
“Zoe.”
“And she brought a boy home!”
“Zoe!”
She ignores me, waddling a few steps into the house. “They must be at Mary’s,” she says, already turning back when there’s no answer. “Give me five minutes.”
“Mary’s?” Andrew asks when she disappears outside again.
“Our neighbor. She’s been by herself since her husband died. They spend a lot of time there.”
“That’s kind of them,” Andrew says, following me into the room. “You must miss it, knowing everyone on the street.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how nosy people can get? The woman four doors down baked me a cake the day I first started my period. I don’t even know how she knew.”
He laughs. “I still think that sounds nice.”
