Happenstance 3 (Happenstance #3)(28)
Author: Jamie McGuire

“It’s us,” Julianne said, her eyes glossing over. “Sam snapped this seconds after you were born before they took you away. This is you, Erin—me and you.”

I stared at the picture for a full minute, noting how dark and thick my hair was, how happy Julianne seemed, the way she held me in her arms. It was our first picture together and our last…until recently.

I looked over at a frame on the barstool side of the kitchen island. It held a photograph of Sam, Julianne, and me. Weston had taken it just after graduation. I was in my cap and gown, and Sam and Julianne were beaming. The metal frame bore elegant cursive that spelled Family.

I felt my throat tighten, and I threw my arms around Julianne.

She hugged me back and chuckled, surprise evident in her voice.

“I love you, Mom.”

Julianne’s breath caught, and then she touched her cheek to my hair. “I love you, sweetheart. You have always been my greatest joy.”

The back door opened and closed, and then Sam’s footsteps echoed down the hall. He froze in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

Julianne sniffed. “She loves her mom.”

Sam’s shoulders fell, and he smiled.

“I love my dad, too,” I said.

He frowned, and then his bottom lip quivered. He dropped his suitcase and walked the few steps to our embrace. He eclipsed both of us with his body, encompassing Julianne and me with his arms.

I had been involved in not one but two sad embraces that day, but what amazed me the most was that it was okay. Neither had felt awkward or forced. Not only had I accepted that I was loved, but also that I was worthy of and deserved that love.

“We’re doing Los Potros for dinner,” I said, my voice muffled.

Sam and Julianne both released me and chuckled.

“I’m just going to take a quick shower,” I said, pointing up.

Sam nodded, his eyes full of tears. “Good idea. You smell.”

Julianne playfully backhanded his arm.

“I’ll be down in fifteen minutes,” I said.

“Okay, sweetie,” Julianne said.

As I climbed the stairs, I heard Julianne ask Sam about his day.

“I missed you like hell,” he said.

I grinned all the way to my room. Our family was a circle of strength and love, and that was what made me the proudest to be a part of it.

I scrubbed the milk, sugar, and chocolate syrup from my hands and fingernails, and then I lathered the soap over everywhere else before standing under the hot stream of water just long enough to rinse away the soap.

My cell phone buzzed on the bathroom counter as I brushed my teeth. The message was from Weston, wondering if I had plans for dinner.

I responded with a yes, explaining that my parents and I were going out.

He didn’t reply.

I combed the tangles from my hair and then slipped on a green sundress and white wedges, forgoing makeup and leaving my hair damp in the interest of time.

When I made it back to the kitchen, Sam and Julianne were chatting, looking incredibly happy and in love, still in the same clothes they’d had on earlier.

“You look lovely,” Sam said.

“Thank you. Do you think, if Weston texts me back, he could join us for dinner? I think he was hoping to make plans.”

“Sure, honey,” Julianne said, picking up her purse from the counter. “Just tell him to meet us there.”

I followed them to Sam’s car. Once I settled into the backseat and buckled my seat belt, I sent Weston another text.

We arrived at the restaurant, and we were seated almost immediately. We walked past the full tables of people from our tiny town. They stared at us until we sat down, still curious about our new family.

The tiny triangles hanging from strings on the ceiling were trembling from the air-conditioning blowing from the ducts.

“Has Weston said anything?” Julianne asked.

I looked down at my phone. Nothing. I shook my head.

“He’s probably helping his dad,” Sam said, looking at the menu.

“Why are you reading that?” Julianne teased. “You order the same thing every time.”

“I do not,” Sam said.

Julianne raised an eyebrow. A waiter approached the table, setting down a basket of homemade chips and a bowl of salsa.

“Waters, Señor Alderman?” the waiter said.

We all nodded.

“One large queso?” the waiter asked.

Julianne winked at me.

Sam nodded.

“Pollo loco, no beans?” the waiter asked.

Sam pretended to look over the menu while we patiently waited, and then he nodded. “Yes, Carlos, thanks.”

Julianne snickered, and I tried to keep from smiling.

“Do they have a Los Potros in Stillwater?” Sam asked.

“I don’t think so, Señor,” the waiter said. “No.”

Sam looked at me, very serious. “You can’t go to OSU.”

“Oh, stop!” Julianne said, cackling.

Carlos waited.

“We’ll have the same,” Julianne said.

The waiter nodded, knowing us well enough that we ordered the same matching meals every time.

My cell phone chimed.

No, thanks.

“Is Weston on his way?” Julianne asked. “Maybe we should have waited to order until he got here?”

I shook my head.

“He’s with his dad,” Sam said.

I turned my phone to show them his message, and they traded glances.

Sam shrugged. “I’m sure Peter is keeping him busy.”

The waiter returned with the waters and a bowl that looked like a mini witch’s cauldron full of melted white cheese.

Sam dipped a chip into the queso and hummed as he chewed. “Why? Why is it so good?”

“It’s made with love,” Carlos said with a grin.

After the waiter walked away, Julianne frowned. “Am I the only one who feels that text isn’t like Weston?”

“Julianne…” Sam warned.

“Oh, c’mon, Sam. He’s insanely head over heels for our daughter and asks her about her dinner plans. When she asks him to join us, he says, ‘No, thanks.’ No. Something is wrong.”

“Honey…” Sam said, this time more firm.

Julianne pulled out her phone and tapped out a text.

“You’re not texting Weston…are you?” I asked, wary.

Her nose wrinkled. “No. I’m texting Veronica.”

Sam snapped his wife’s phone from her palm and buried it in his lap with an awkward smile.

Julianne’s jaw hung open.