Lacy was happy to oblige, but unlike Brynne, she had her photos on the cell phone. She retrieved it and quickly brought up the albums section. “He’s the source of our hair, obviously.”
Brynne marveled at seeing a man with a natural smile and more than a dusting of freckles on his face. “And the blue eyes,” she said, taking her first look at the man who’d come up with the idea of hiring a surrogate. Her birth father. He had unruly bright red hair that topped his head in a lopsided fashion. Maybe time for a haircut? She zoomed in on his eyes. Yes, they were the same pale blue color. In each picture, he had that great broad smile and a strong jaw. Brynne’s and her sister’s jaws were petite and a little pointy, more like their mom’s. Her first impression was that she liked him. Then she quickly wondered how different her life would’ve been if he’d been able to support triplets.
A moot thought that caused a hard feeling to hit the pit of her stomach.
John Winters looked kind, but scrappy, too, like a typical working man. A man who couldn’t afford raising three children. Who had carried one hell of a secret to his grave. She needed to cut him some slack, since her mother had done the same, but man, it was hard. If she let herself be angry at him, she’d have to be mad at her mother, too, which she’d discovered last night, she was. Her thoughts must have seeped out to Eva and Lacy, since they all went quiet and looked a little sad.
“We can’t change history, right?” Eva stated the fact.
“Nope,” Brynne agreed.
“But we can start our history today,” Lacy said, taking Brynne’s hand. “Even though you live in Utah, we’ve got to promise to spend the big holidays together. Come to California for Christmas?”
Unsure of jumping right in feetfirst, Brynne shied away from the invitation. “Or you guys could come here to ski.”
“Definitely,” Eva said. “And summers, we can all meet somewhere and rent a huge house like this so we can stay together and vacation.”
Was that what she wanted? It sounded so normal. Brynne knew that soon her sisters would be back in their homes, far away, and all these little plans could very well never happen. The question was, how did she feel about that? It was safer to go back to how things were before they’d met, which held a lot of appeal. But now that she’d found Lacy and Eva, could they ever be the same? What was wrong with keeping in touch?
“And our first family trip together could be a destination wedding in Las Vegas, woo hoo!” Lacy said, pretending to toss confetti. That put the brakes on the happy moment.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Sorry. I have a tendency to go overboard.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
Things got quiet for the next few seconds, and worrying she’d been the cause, Brynne brought up another subject. “Did you guys used to feel like something was missing? It’s hard to explain, but like, when I was little, I used to talk to my pretend sisters. Not just one, but two. I swear.”
Instead of finding disbelief in their eyes, she found recognition and agreement, and she didn’t need to explain a single thing more. They both solemnly nodded.
“I always wanted a sister,” Lacy said. “I longed for someone to share my deepest secrets with.”
“And I always felt this huge chunk of me was missing. I was a super-lonely child,” Eva said, provoking a group hug.
For Brynne, sitting with these women in the sunken living room, off in the corner where a sofa and chair were arranged specifically for such private conversations, she’d never felt so much a part of something in her life. What a revelation. It helped her relax and, inwardly smiling, she let the sensations of completely belonging to something bigger than herself trickle over her. Being honest, it felt great. Why fight it? She’d stumbled upon her sisters from birth. It really was far bleeping out!
A couple hours later, after the men considerately took care of the kids and cleanup, allowing Lacy, Eva and Brynne their special time together, Paul reluctantly approached. “I hate to be the one to break this up, but I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow.”
Tuesdays were his busiest, with extra classes and university admin meetings. Brynne understood, and neither Eva nor Lacy seemed to hold a grudge.
“I’d be glad to drive you home,” Zack said, “if you’d like to stick around?”
“Thanks so much,” Brynne said, “but since I’m taking the week off, I’ve just made plans to meet my sisters for lunch tomorrow.” Finally saying it aloud felt weird and wonderful at once. A tiny shiver hit her neck.
What if she gave in to Paul’s idea and just went for it, got married? Though the brakes were letting up with her sisters, they still felt intact on rushing a wedding. Though after last night’s shouting session, she felt he understood better why, and he’d nearly broken her heart with how he worried about losing sight of the future.
On the way out, Lacy clapped her hands. “I can’t wait for lunch!”
Eva gave Brynne a droll expression. “Pardon our sister but she gets easily carried away especially where food is concerned.”
As easy as bubbling water, they chuckled together, and Brynne began to feel a part of something much bigger than herself. So this was what family was like. She and her mother had been tight, for sure, but being honest, it had felt more like a team of two, well, three counting Rory, than this. Family.
For the first time since meeting Paul, she nearly grasped what he’d been trying to tell her. A big family could be a good thing. If she could just wrap her brain around motherhood.
“I’m excited, too,” Brynne said, surprising herself and bringing on another group hug.
Their extended goodbyes were packed with quick add-ons like, “I still don’t know your favorite color.”
“Did you hate tuna salad when you were a kid, too?”
“When did you start wearing a bra?” as though fighting for more time and information on the spot, and finally, “Write all the questions down and we’ll talk about them tomorrow,” suggested by Eva. Finally, Brynne and Paul left.
Unlike her usual self, Brynne chatted away the whole ride home to her apartment. “It’s like we’re picking up where we left off, except we never had a before, before. But it doesn’t matter, because it seems we already know each other.” She went quiet for a few seconds. “Is that possible?”
“Apparently,” Paul said. When he looked at her, she beamed with enthusiasm.
“I understand you probably have a lot going on in your head, and I’m happy for you. But just in case you’re wondering how you’ll ever be able to go to sleep after all this, well, I’m just throwing it out there—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, answering his question before he’d been able to get it out. “Let’s go to your house.”
Wow, talk about having the honeymoon before the wedding. Which was on hold. Indefinitely?
Brynne hadn’t met her sisters until two days ago, and they were the injection of excitement he hadn’t seen in her since her mother died.
So, was he taking advantage of her? Of course not—all he had to do was look at her, as positive as could be with her yes before he’d asked her to sleep over. She needed him, and he needed her, which, as history had proved with them, equaled mutual satisfaction.
* * *
Tuesday night, in Paul’s family home, was best described as controlled chaos. The cozy house where he’d grown up was packed with three redheads and their significant others, including their four kids, Mom, Dad and Nona. Feeling cramped, he wondered how the four siblings had managed to make it through high school without permanent elbow marks embedded in their torsos. Still, he smiled, because he loved the noise and having to turn sideways to make it through the kitchen door because of the constant activity.
His maternal grandma, all four feet eleven of her, at eighty-two, having taken up permanent residence with his folks, could still light up a
room. Which she was currently doing with the triplets, no doubt embarrassing him with stories about his childhood through Nona’s memory. That could mean a blending of tales about his two brothers and sister, with maybe a touch of him thrown in.
She’d obviously gotten her monthly perm, her still mostly black hair cropped short and now curled tight enough not to require combing for days. Somewhere over the years her torso and waist had sunk straight to her hips, making her even shorter and inclining her toward loose blouses. Today’s top was bright yellow, over navy-blue polyester stretch-waist pants. She’d given up on zippers and heels years ago and now spent most of her time looking up people’s noses when in conversation. But she seemed thrilled to be talking to Brynne, Lacy and Eva. Her sweet crinkly eyes were shining as they spoke.
Dad, still almost as tall as Paul, though hunched some for sure, supervised the best-smelling-and-tasting lasagna in town. At least that’s what Dad had told him his entire life. His hair was mostly silver now, and Paul liked how it made him look distinguished. The guy deserved unending kudos for spending his entire working life as a middle school teacher, which was also probably why he’d gone prematurely gray.
Mom scuttled around the small kitchen taking care of everything else, which, in this Italian home meant multiple side dishes and bread. Of course, bread. Because life would end otherwise.
Zack’s daughter, Emma, had taken up residence nearby, watching in awe all the cooking and preparing as though it was the best reality show on earth. From what he’d learned from Lacy, Emma had dreams of becoming a chef one day.
“Ma, let Emma stir the sauce,” Paul suggested, and once Eleanora Capriati caught on, she gave undivided attention to the young one’s culinary experience, even offering her Nona’s stool to stand on.
Mom still kept her hair blond and big. Bouffant was the word she’d always used. Like in the ’70s, but tastefully clipped to just below her earlobes, if tasteful and ’70s wasn’t already a contradiction.
Zack and Joe had been treated like kings by Mom and Nona since they’d arrived—which probably had something to do with them once again being in charge of childcare—and they were currently lounging in the two comfortable recliners attached to each end of the sectional sofa, nibbling on homemade bruschetta, which Paul knew for a fact was the best in the world. Again, because Nona told him so.
Paul had made a point to carve out some intentional time with Brynne tonight. Nonsexual time, which they’d had surprisingly a lot of for not currently being engaged. She’d promised to make time for him, too, though admittedly he’d asked during a crucial moment late last night, and her first answer had been “Don’t stop!” Before arriving tonight, he’d reminded her of her agreement, and that he understood he’d have to wait until after the meal to get her alone.
From the expression on her face, he sensed she expected him to ask her to marry him again. Well, she’d be surprised, since that wasn’t part of his plan.
Nona banged the lid of a pot with a metal serving spoon. “Dinner is served,” she said, the hint of her Sicilian upbringing still evident. “Mangiare!”
“Seems like we just finished our lunch together,” Lacy said to Brynne and Eva as they headed to the table.
“Being a nurse, I’m not used to three-hour lunches,” Brynne said easily, as though she was starting to get the hang of being a triplet. “But I could!”
“Aren’t you an independent small-business woman these days?” Eva said, putting her freshly manicured hand on Brynne’s shoulder. She didn’t even seem to flinch. A great sign. “You can make your own hours for lunch, right?”
Brynne chuckled. “I see you’re assuming I’m a highly successful business owner.”
“I’m sure you will be,” Eva said, a confident glint in her eyes.
Paul hoped that confidence would rub off on Brynne. She’d been doing a great job under the circumstances of stepping into a business she knew nothing about. Fortunately, it was an established bookstore, but it had fallen into a common rut—resting on the regular customers instead of reaching out to new ones. There was work to be done, and Paul was certain Brynne would rise to the challenge. In his mind, there was nothing she couldn’t do. That was, except marry him, apparently.
Somehow, though cramped and with little room to spare, the crowd all managed to make it around the heirloom dining table, with all three center leaves in place. The same old oak table around which he’d grown up celebrating every major—and several minor—holidays every year of his life.
And as Dad had promised, the lasagna was world-class. From the blissful looks on the guests’ faces, they agreed.
Paul sat next to Brynne, who seemed more relaxed than usual when at his house, maybe because there were three of her tonight, and she didn’t feel under the microscope as she usually did. He understood it had to be tough coming from a single-mom and child home, having to transition to his family, especially when all four of the siblings were also in attendance. But as he looked around the table at his mom, dad and Nona happily sharing their food and entertaining their guests, he wondered, what wasn’t to love about the Capriati famiglia?
After dinner and cleanup, he planned to make his move on Brynne. Having sensed her being swept away since discovering her sisters and the Pandora’s box they opened, he’d made plans for some quiet time together. They needed to talk. Unlike the frantic sex they’d been sharing—since apparently meeting her unknown family sparked and released loads of passionate energy—their usual conversations, from before she’d broken off the engagement, had become a forgotten art.
“Getting used to the chaos yet?” he asked as he edged his way beside her in a corner of the kitchen. Loud talking and laughter filled in the background.
“I’m working on it,” she said, overall looking happy while putting dishes in the cupboard, though still a little overwhelmed, too.
“Did you see the look on Mom’s face when she saw three of you?” he said, handing her the next batch of plates. He couldn’t help the grin, since rarely had he seen his mother, a Realtor and shrewd judge of character, caught off guard by anything or anyone.
“Oh my gosh, that was classic. Wish we’d gotten it on video.”
“I think Joe did. Or Zack. One of them.”
She turned to take the next batch of saucers while standing on Nona’s stool. “You like them, don’t you,” she said. It wasn’t a question about her new family and in-laws.
“I do, they’re great, down-to-earth people. Easy to know and be around.”
“I thought it was just me—after I quit resisting, anyway. Good to know you feel the same.”
“Yeah, good thing, too, because we’re going to be seeing a lot of them the rest of our lives.”
The phrase slipped out as naturally as the latest time he’d told her he loved her. He knew they belonged together, but he caught the glint of shock in her eyes when he’d so casually said, “the rest of our lives.” In her mind they were no longer engaged, and here he was pushing like nothing had changed.
She’d also finished her task of putting away the dishes, so he took her hand and led her into the hallway, away from the rest.
“I understand it’s a big deal having your world turned on its ear over a single week, but we’ll make it work. You’ll see—everything will be fine.”
“You’re leaving something important out.”
He knew, of course he did, but he chose to ignore their breakup. “No. I’m choosing to forget the past and look to the future.”
“You’re not being fair. I need some say in this.”
“I want nothing more.”
“Than for me to say yes, but I’m still not there yet. Especially now.”
“I get it, but they’ll all be going home, and I’ll be here. I want—”
“I know what you want.”
He nodded, choosing not to press the point that he knew
beyond all else. They belonged together.
From her sudden silence, the last thing he felt was that everything would eventually be okay. Good thing he had his knock-it-out-of-the-park surprise. One he’d sworn his mother to silence on.
“Uh, getting back to tomorrow. You and I need some alone time, outdoors, where we won’t get distracted by the bedroom and can’t get in trouble.” It occurred that the overabundance of stress in her life might push her to new heights. Picnic-blanket sex hadn’t occurred to him, but who knew what she might talk him into?
“What are you smiling about?”
“Oh, nothing,” he said. “But I have the perfect spot in mind, and we’ll have a picnic. Just you and me. Okay?”
And as any woman whose life had been taken over by surprise circumstances with long-lost relatives and forced weddings would do, she robotically nodded her head.
Since she’d read off her list of complaints last night, he understood her resistance more, and vowed to change. For her.
He smiled and bussed her cheek. Man, he loved her. He also had a bombshell surprise to lay on her that might possibly overpower the shock of discovering she was a triplet. Which made him have second thoughts. In his defense, he’d planned it long before the breakup. But damn, she’d mocked his checking off boxes last night. Maybe he had more thinking to do tonight.
Chapter Eight
His mom had met Paul’s specifications to a T with the property she’d found. Three bedrooms plus a den, huge family room, updated kitchen and bathrooms. An older home but move-in ready, waiting for Brynne and Paul to make it theirs. It was away from downtown Cedars in the City, yet within a fifteen-to twenty-minute drive of just about anywhere they’d need to go.
He’d been anxious to start his life with Brynne in this house and could see them living there for years to come.
But that was before she’d called him out for being too goal oriented. All during the night he’d had second thoughts about this supposedly big reveal, one where she’d clap her hands together and declare, “How soon can we get married?” Man, was he out of touch with the woman he loved, and it was about time he did something about that.
The Reluctant Fiancée (The Taylor Triplets Book 3) Page 11
