My grandmother died before I was born. Apparently, home life was fairly normal before Sylvia Bryant's death. My mom was a flourishing high school student and my grandpa, Stan, was devoted to his wife and child. He worked full time providing for his family, ensuring that there was plenty of food, a roof over their head, and all the necessities they could possibly need.
Then tragedy struck. My grandmother was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer and almost lived long enough for my mother to complete the last three months of her freshman year of high school. My grandpa turned to booze to cope with her death, leaving my mom to fend for herself. Mom, apparently, turned to drugs and sex. Grandpa wasn't home, Mom partied, and nine months later, I arrived.
I have no baby photos. I have no mementos of my childhood. I have memories of my disappointed grandpa telling me how much my mom and I ruined his life. I guess I should be grateful that Mom stuck around until I was almost two, but I'm not really. And to make matters worse, I can count on one hand how many times I've seen her since she walked out that door and hopped on the back of some dude's Harley.
I was raised by my grandpa. I learned to scavenge for food from the measly contents of the fridge and cabinets, do the wash, and pick up the house by the time I was in grade school. Grandpa left for the factory at six-thirty in the morning and headed straight to the bar after work. He pissed all of his money away on alcohol and whatever quick fix he could get his hands on while I was at home getting whatever assistance I could get from the after-school specials on television.
I have no clue if the old man actually loved me. He never said if he really did. I assume he did not. I have never felt like I was loved, only a burden to others. My mother left her mess at his doorstep and never looked back.
But, I adapted. I was strong enough to get by. I survived.
I glance up at the clock on the wall and realize that it's already four-fifteen. Fifteen minutes until I'm supposed to be at the Stevens. I grab my small purse and head towards the front door. After locking the door and heading down the steep stairs, I contemplate talking myself out of going … again.
Going to the Stevens house for dinner does not mean I'm opening myself up. It does not mean I'm opening myself up, letting people in, or will be found. It means I'm hungry and Mrs. Stevens offered me dinner. That's it. Simple. End of story. The end.
As I slide down into my hot seat, I know that I'm making more out of this dinner invite than necessary. My new boss and her family invited me to dinner. I will go and enjoy their company for a couple of hours and then return to my quiet, safe little apartment above the bakery. I throw my beat-up, used car in reverse and head towards the Stevens' house.
I wonder if Nate will be there.
I pull into the long driveway, following the directions that Mrs. Stevens wrote down, with one minute to spare. As I turn off the ignition, I close my eyes and take a deep calming breath. In and out.
It's now or never so I slide out of the car and head towards the front door. The noise assaulting me is the sounds of family. Sounds I've never really heard before nor understood. I hear laughter and children playing.
As I walk up the stairs, the front door opens as if the person opening the door was waiting on me.
"Hey, you must be Lia?" I hear as the screen door opens for me.
The man before me is tall and well built. He has blond hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Eyes the color of the ocean reflecting off a tropical beach. He's muscular, yet nowhere near the Popeye I-eat-all-my-spinach muscles that Nate sports. Nate. Now there's a man who can get my blood pumping with just one passing glance from those striking blue-green eyes.
"I am," I reply as I step inside the cool air, shaking off the mental images of Nate and his eyes. This house is magnificent. Not overly huge, but large enough for a family. It spews warmth and laughter. The warm walls are filled with photographs and it smells of home-cooked goodness and sugar. This place is nothing like the small house I grew up in.
"I'm Will," the man says as he reaches out his hand. It's large and warm and envelopes mine completely. "Nice to meet you finally. Mom and Avery talk about you all the time," he added with a smile. No dimple.
"Avery has mentioned you as well," I tell him as he leads me towards the back of the house.
"I hope you don't mind the heat. Mom set up the kiddie pool and sprinkler for the kids so we're all out back watching them play," Will says as he opens the back door just off the kitchen.
"I don't mind," I say as I step back out into the August heat.
"Lia," Avery says, drawing my attention towards the small pool nestled underneath a big shade tree.
I toss my boss a wave and head towards her. She's squatting next to the pool, splashing the cutest little boy I've ever seen.
"This is Ryder," Avery says with a huge, proud smile.
"What a sweetheart," I say, smiling at the toddler who is splashing in the shallow water.
"Oh, don't let his charming face fool you for a second. He's one hundred percent his father. He's bossy, pushy, and loud," Avery says with an adoring smile. Her baby may be all of those things, but I can tell she wouldn't change a thing about him. Or his father.
I laugh and splash a little water at Ryder. "Well, he sure is a cutie," I tell her.
"The blond girl over in the sprinkler is Brooklyn. I think I mentioned this at the bakery, but everyone calls her Bean. And the other little guy is my nephew, Grant."
I gaze over at the two kids frolicking around in the sprinkler and give them a smile.
"Trav, can you come over here and watch Ryder? I want to introduce Lia to everyone," Avery says to another impossibly tall man, relaxing in a chaise lounge.
The guy gets up and walks over to Avery. "This is my brother Travis," she says.
"Hi, Travis," I say, extending my hand.
"Pleasure, Lia. My wife, Josselyn is the brunette over there," he says pointing to two women sitting under an umbrella table.
"Come on, Lia. Let's go meet the girls," she says as we head towards the two women. "Thanks, Trav," she calls over her shoulder. I turn back around to see Ryder splashing and laughing in fits of tiny giggles as he tries to soak his uncle.
"Ladies," Avery starts as we approach the women at the table. "This is my newest employee, Lia Walker. Lia, this is my sister-in-law, Josselyn," she says as she points to a stunning brunette with long brown hair and hazel eyes. Her smile is easy and warm.
"And this is my almost sister-in-law, Erin, who is marrying my oldest brother, Jake, in just a couple of weeks," Avery says as she motions towards the redhead. Her curly hair is up in a high ponytail and her intense green eyes are warm and friendly.
"Hi," Josselyn says and motions towards the two empty seats.
"Hello," I reply, smiling at both women.
"So, who are you being set up with?" Erin asks with an ornery smile.
"Excuse me?" I ask, confused all of a sudden.
Avery and Josselyn laugh on either side of me.
"Nate or Will? I'm assuming Will since he's here today and Nate isn't," Erin says with a raised eyebrow.
"I thought the same thing for a moment, but nope. Definitely Nate. You should have seen the smoldering glances between these two," Avery says as she fans herself. "If there was newspaper in the kitchen, it would have burst into flames," she adds as the other women at the table laugh.
"I don't think I follow," I reply, more confused than ever, but not able to hide it behind my full-fledged blush. Seriously, like my face just burst into those flames Avery was referring to.
"Well, Elizabeth has a way of meddling into our love lives and bringing us all closer together," Josselyn says with a smile.
"I do not meddle, ladies," Mrs. Steven says with a smile as she walks up from behind me. "Sometimes my children need a little ‘nudge'," she says with a motherly smile as she pulls an extra chair up to the table. "It's so nice to see you again, dear," Mrs. Stevens says.
"Thank you for having me," I reply with a grateful smile.
"My oldest boy, Jake, was in desperate need of Erin to step in and shake up his bossy, orderly little world. And Travis over there was on a crash course by working too much. He needed to see what was really important in life. I just gave them a gentle little push," Mrs. Stevens says with a smile.
Erin laughs across the table. "Well, I for one am grateful for your pushing. The wedding is less than 3 weeks away. I'm so excited," she says with a wide grin filled with excitement.