Page 4 of Beautifully Messy
“No, summer associate, finishing my last year at Georgetown. I’m not looking to be picked up, so maybe shoot your shot elsewhere.”
“Who said anything about picking you up? Maybe I just wanted to talk to the most beautiful woman in the room.” He flashed a game-show-host grin, showing perfect white teeth.
I wish I could say my stomach fluttered or something, but mostly I noticed how put-together he was. I wanted to see if I could ruffle him.
“Did my resting bitch face not scare you off?”
“Not in the slightest.” He leaned in closer. “Everyone else here looks desperate to be seen. You? You look like you’d rather disappear. It’s refreshing.”
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t off-base either. Maybe there was more to him than his golden-boy energy?
“Sydney!” Jules snaps me back. “You totally spaced. What happened next?”
I blush. “Let’s say one drink turned into three, and I ended up at his place.”
“You slept with him on the first night? I love this. Mason always acts like such a Boy Scout.”
“Hmmm. Maybe in some areas.” I say, dry as toast. “But that night? He was all cocky-get-his-way Mason.”
“So it started as a hookup?”
“We both said we weren’t looking for anything serious. Just…”
“Sex?” Jules teases.
“But he called the next day, and the day after. And here we are, six months later.”
“Meeting the family, decidedly more than a hookup. Did Mason at least warn you what youwere walking into?”
She’s so earnest, I can’t resist answering. “Not really. He just said his family had a cabin and asked if I wanted to come since I didn’t have other plans.”
She looks at me thoughtfully, and asks, “And now that you’ve seen us in action?”
“Now I get why he wanted me to meet you all.”
The Wallises are what I used to imagine when I was little, sitting alone by the Christmas tree. They’re loud, messy, and affectionate; the kind of family people write novels about.
The kind I used to pretend was mine.
“Come on.” Jules loops her arm through mine. “You have to try the hot chocolate, and I’ll tell you all the delicious details about my boyfriend, Tom. He’s on call today, but he’ll be here tomorrow.”
We easily find the others and enjoy the world’s best hot chocolate. Everyone laughs when whipped cream clings to Gary’s nose. Margaret smiles as Ivy lifts her camera to capture Jules and me walking arm-in-arm. With holiday music drifting through the air and laughter on our lips, I can’t remember a more perfect afternoon.
The sun drifts behind the mountain, and everything softens, wrapping the streets in golden light. How much have I missed without having a family like the Wallises? And just how far am I willing to go so I don’t lose it?
***
Oncethelaughterfromdinner fades and the others scatter, I remain in the kitchen with Margaret. She sifts flour into a wooden bowl, preparing pastry dough with practiced movements.
“Have you made cinnamon rolls before?” she asks, her voice warm with invitation.
“I’m afraid my baking skills don’t go much further than a box of brownie mix.” I look away, embarrassed by the contrast.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Grab that apron, and I’ll show you.” Her smile deepens, softening the lines around her eyes. “My mother passed down this recipe.”
As we mix and knead, the air fills with the scent of cinnamon and rising yeast. Margaret shares stories from when her kids were young. There’s Ivy pulling pranks on her older siblings, squabbles over game pieces, a frosting disaster involving Jules and a dog.
Tiny details only a fully present mother would remember.
