Beautiful Surrender(17)

“Tunnels?”

“Blanket forts, tunnels, wherever it’s dark. Point is, the kid’s going to be an engineer like his uncle. He loves trains.”

I nodded. Vincent was very enthused about this party, especially blanket forts. To be fair, I remembered loving making blanket forts as a kid. My inner child was in line with his inner child on that point.

“Who wrapped the present?” I asked, eyeing the perfect bows.

He laughed. “You caught me. That task I did delegate. It looks good though, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think she deserves a bonus.”

“I’ll take it under consideration.”

We made it to the porch, where we were already able to hear the high-pitched screams of a child running around and playing. The door was unlocked and Vincent stepped inside the house unfazed by the noise. I followed after.

We were greeted in the foyer by a blond, slim woman standing around five six. She had her hair tied back in a simple bun and wore a well-fitting dark blue blouse with black pants. By my first impression, she looked slightly younger than Vincent. I eyed the plate of snacks she was carrying: apple slices with peanut butter. My stomach growled.

“Hello, stranger,” she said, smiling at her brother. Her voice was warm and confident. I could see the resemblance between her and Vincent both in appearance and in the confident way she carried herself.

After beaming at her brother for a moment, she turned to me. “And you must be Kristen.”

She extended her hand and I took it. Her handshake was firm. “You’re Giselle.”

She smiled warmly. “As well as ‘Mommy’ and ‘Mrs. Harper.’ I’m glad you two could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Vincent said.

The child causing all of the noise behind Giselle spotted us. His dark brown eyes opened wide and he tottered over wearing his cone-shaped birthday hat, followed by a man with black hair and a bright smile. “Uncle Vincent!”

Vincent squatted down on his heels and gave Brady a big hug as the man following him took his place beside Giselle. Seeing Vincent in his blue jeans and white polo shirt in this family setting revealed a new side of him. “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

“It’s my birthday!” Brady apparently hadn’t quite learned volume control yet.

Vincent didn’t even flinch at his nephew’s high-pitched screaming. “I know. I got you a present!”

The boy screamed in delight. The little guy was super cute and very excited, if a little loud.

Vincent stood back up and shook hands with what I assumed was Giselle’s husband, eyeing him firmly. “Good morning, Rob.”

Rob returned the gesture. “Vincent.”

Vincent put his arm around me. “Rob, this is my girlfriend Kristen. Kristen, this is Giselle’s husband Rob.”

“Good to meet you,” Rob said. He had kind, gray eyes, and looked to be a similar age to Giselle. His build was smaller than Vincent’s, but I thought he and Giselle made a cute couple.

Rob reached down and patted Brady on the back. “Brady, this is Kristen. Say hello.”

Brady ran up and wrapped his arms around my leg, gripping the fabric of my jeans. “Hi Kristen.”

Brady was too cute. I squatted down as Vincent had. “How old are you?” I asked him. I wanted to show Vincent that I was comfortable with children too.

Brady looked at Giselle and then back at me.

“Tell him how old you are, Brady,” Giselle said.

He looked at me a little longer and appeared to decide I was okay, to my relief. “I’m three,” he squealed.

“Good job!” Giselle said.

Emboldened, he grabbed my hand. His cute little fingers wrapped around one of mine. “Let’s go play trains!” he said enthusiastically.

I smiled and followed him. Vincent stayed behind to talk to his sister and brother-in-law.

As Brady led me to his play area, I looked around at the house and all the little touches Giselle had put on her home. Lamps, candles, vases, mirrors: everything was in good taste and combined attractively. It was hard to imagine a life where managing the household was a significant part of what you thought about. Riley and I looked after ourselves, but we were pretty low-maintenance and kept decorating simple.

When we got to his play area, the floor was littered with an array of trains, train track decorations, and even a stuffed conductor. A train track in a big figure eight was spread amidst the chaos. Vincent was right: Brady loved trains. As clean as the rest of the house was, Giselle had clearly decided that Brady’s play area was a place where messiness could reign.

I got down on my knees to be down on Brady’s eye level. He eyed me earnestly. “Which one?” he asked.