The growing sense of apprehension in Taylor’s stomach on the flight from Texas to North Carolina intensified as the plane’s wheels touched down on the tarmac. She had to remind herself that she loved her family and they loved her. Their judgmental comments were a result of that love for her.
Why are you making excuses for them?
The truth was that she had never fit in with her family.
She already regretted bringing Jamar with her. Would her brother denigrate her in front of him? Would her mother regale him with embarrassing stories from Taylor’s teen years?
She squeezed her eyes shut. This was a disaster in the making. She felt it in her bones.
Just get through the weekend.
The flight captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker, letting the passengers know that it would be a few more minutes before they could pull into their gate. Taylor released a deep sigh. She could use a few more minutes before facing the inevitable.
“You okay?”
She looked over and saw concern in Jamar’s eyes. He reached across the armrest and captured her hand, lacing their fingers together.
The small gesture sent a wave of gratitude flooding through her. How could she regret bringing him when his presence brought such comfort? This man who she’d only known for six short weeks—who had entered her life as nothing more than a client—had come to mean so much more.
After they pulled up to the gate, they deplaned from the first-class seats Jamar had insisted on buying—his Thanksgiving present. As if Thanksgiving presents were a thing.
Taylor thought they would take an Uber to her parents’, but after retrieving their luggage from baggage claim, Jamar motioned for her to follow him to the rental car desk. That’s when she discovered he’d already booked a car for the weekend.
“When did you do all this?” she asked.
“Before we left Austin this morning,” he said. He held up his phone. “Remember what I said about this cool little pocket computer? It can do all sorts of things.”
“Couldn’t leave that smart-ass attitude in Texas, could you?”
“It travels well.”
She rolled her eyes as she followed him to the rental car lot where a silver Lincoln MKX crossover awaited them. Taylor issued directions as Jamar navigated the SUV off the lot and onto the highway toward Fayetteville.
The familiar sights brought her an unexpected sense of peace, contributing to the tangled mass of emotions swirling in her belly. North Carolina had been her first real taste of stability. She couldn’t help feeling an affinity for the place where her parents had finally settled their nomadic family. She liked knowing she could come back here.
She also liked knowing that she could easily hop on a plane and flee if necessary.
After about an hour of driving, the GPS’s flat voice announced their arrival at her parents’ home in the town of Spring Lake. The split-level brick house looked like many of the others on the quiet, residential street—something Taylor had always resented. After the monotony of base housing, she’d wanted her parents to buy a house with some character. The irony of the square box of a studio apartment she’d moved into wasn’t lost on her.
Her brother-in-law’s F-150 was parked on one side of the driveway. A black Mercedes coupe so new it still had temporary tags occupied the other half. It no doubt belonged to Darwin. Her brother loved to show off his prizes, as he liked to call his cars.
Jamar parked the Lincoln at the curb, just past the mailbox. The door to the house opened at the same time Taylor climbed out of the SUV. A second later, her dad appeared. He wore creased black slacks and a heather-gray sweater. It was so typical of the Colonel. His “downtime” wardrobe was what others would consider business casual.
Taylor wouldn’t have it any other way.
She raced over to him and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. It didn’t matter how often they butted heads, nothing could ever take away that initial joy she felt at seeing her dad safe and healthy.
“How’s my little Taylor Renee?” he said, kissing the top of her head.
“Just fine, Daddy,” she said, giving him an extra squeeze. She leaned back so she could look up at him. “Feeling old yet?”
“I don’t turn sixty until tomorrow,” he said. He pinched her side. “Why are you so skinny? I know Texas barbecue isn’t as good as what you get here in North Carolina, but you can stand to eat a little more meat, girl.”
Her dad tucked her against his side, keeping one arm firmly around her. With the other he extended his hand to Jamar.
“I’m Colonel Powell,” he said.
“Jamar Dixon,” Jamar said, shaking his hand.
“Oh, I know who you are,” her dad said. Taylor stiffened. This could go one of two ways. “I’m a Packers fan, but I keep up with the Bears,” her dad finished.
Thank God. It went the non-apocalyptic way.
Jamar’s brow arched. “A Packers fan in Panthers country? If you don’t mind my asking, how did that happen, sir?”
Oh, good one, Twenty-Three. Tacking that sir on at the end would definitely score him some brownie points with the Colonel. Taylor knew those impeccable manners of his would come in handy.
“I was stationed at Fort McCoy, Wisconsin, a long, long time ago. It’s halfway between Green Bay and Minneapolis. My drill sergeant was a Vikings fan, which explains why I hate them to this day.”
“That also explains why so many of his soldiers probably hate the Packers,” Taylor said. She gestured to the shiny black coupe in the driveway. “I see Darwin bought himself a new toy.”
“The hell he did. That’s mine,” her dad said. “A man only turns sixty years old once.”
He took Taylor’s bag from Jamar and led them inside.
A couple of years ago, her parents undertook a massive renovation, tearing down walls and going with an open-concept design that left the living room, dining room, and much of the kitchen visible from the foyer. Taylor spotted her mother sitting at the dining room table with her niece, Fredericka.
They were tying gold ribbons around little black boxes, which Taylor surmised were the party favors for tomorrow night. The fact that they were making the favors out in the open also meant that her father knew about the party. There was no need to pretend that she’d flown all the way from Austin for a small family get-together.
Taylor went straight to her mother and gave her a hug. She turned to Fredericka and signed Hello, Beautiful. I’ve missed you. Her niece signed back I’ve missed you too. I like your hair.
“Don’t you dare offer to dye her hair,” her mother told Taylor. “You know your brother won’t let you.”
“It won’t matter if we do it before he finds out.” Taylor signed the words as she spoke them.
She motioned Jamar over and made introductions, and then spent ten minutes relaying questions Freddie had about football and how many cities he’d traveled to while playing. Her niece suffered from a severe case of wanderlust and didn’t hold back when it came to her displeasure at never having left the United States. She maintained that the one time she visited her grandparents and aunt in Germany didn’t count since she was still a baby at the time.
“There are finger foods in the kitchen,” her mother said. “I’m sure you two are hungry after traveling all day.”
Taylor guided Jamar to the kitchen and took down two plates. When she turned back to him, he was staring at her with a mixture of wonder and appreciation in his eyes.
“What?” Taylor asked.
“You never mentioned you’re fluent in sign language,” he said.
“It’s not as if it ever came up in conversation,” she said.
“I don’t understand how you ever thought you weren’t college material, Taylor. Every day I learn something even more remarkable about you.”
An infusion of warmth filled her chest and then spread throughout the rest of her. Taylor closed the distance between them, cupped his face in her hands, and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Do you know those are, by far, the nicest words that have ever been said about me while standing in this particular kitchen? If my parents weren’t just a few yards away, I would strip your clothes off and do all kinds of nasty things to you right this second.”
Jamar closed his eyes and released a guttural sound from deep in his throat. “Please don’t say things like that while we’re here. I want your dad to like me. That will never happen if he notices me walking around his house with a hard-on.”
“Hmm, no, I don’t suspect the Colonel would take too kindly to that,” Taylor said. She slipped one hand from his jaw and trailed it down his chest and torso. “But you have to admit there’s something exciting about the thought of getting caught.”
He sucked in a breath. “Don’t.”
Just then, the front door opened and Darwin, along with his wife, Rebecca, entered the house. At the exact same time, Jesamyn and Chester came through the side door that led to the backyard. The volume of the chatter in the house quadrupled. It also put an end to any clandestine sexy times in her parents’ kitchen. That was probably a good thing.
They all flocked to the great room, and for the first time in ages, Taylor didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to escape. The finger sandwiches, chips and dip, and cocktail wieners her mom had prepared lasted all of ten minutes, so the Colonel ordered pizza, which they ate while relaxing on the sofa and in the comfortable armchairs Taylor instantly declared were the best pieces of furniture in the house.
Jamar fell right in with her family, charming her mother and sister-in-law, and as Taylor had predicted, going toe-to-toe with Jesamyn on every topic, from politics to climate change to the winner of the best picture at the Oscars this year. He cemented his place in the Powell family when he joined Freddie in learning a new dance on TikTok, then convinced her dad to join them.
Taylor laughed so hard she could barely catch her breath. But as she observed the jovial scene from the comfort of her plush armchair, she became increasingly uncomfortable with the sense of envy that began to take root. Was she . . . jealous?
Don’t be ridiculous.
The idea that she was anything but happy to see Jamar getting along so well with her family was laughable.
And yet . . .
Taylor couldn’t understand how he could seem so at ease with people he just met, while she walked around in a constant state of self-doubt whenever she was near them. Then again, it wasn’t all that difficult to understand how he was able to fit in. He’d matched wits with her sister and talked sports with her dad and brother. He fit in better with her family than she did.
She reminded herself that her family welcoming Jamar into the fold was a good thing. She wanted them to like him. Taylor forced a smile that she wasn’t really feeling and tried her hardest to suppress her resentment.
As the evening progressed, her dad made a pot of his famous hot chocolate and directed everyone to carry their mugs outside to the stone fire pit he’d had installed. When Jesamyn brought a bag of marshmallows for toasting, Taylor had to take a mental step back to make sure she was at the right house. Everything seemed too perfect.
And then her brother ruined it all.
Sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs circling the fire pit, Darwin said, “Did I mention that Caleb Mitchell started at our firm this past week? That’s yet another one of Taylor’s classmates who’s gone on to do big things.”
Taylor spun around in her chair and glared at her brother. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Darwin’s eyes grew wide. As if she would ever buy that innocent look from him. “It means that we just hired Caleb Mitchell at the firm,” he said.
“Why do you have to be such an asshole, Darwin?”
“Taylor.” Her mother’s strident tone rankled. Why in the hell didn’t she say anything to her son?
“He’s so transparent,” Taylor said. “You know he only brought up Caleb so that he could compare him to me.”
“No, I didn’t,” Darwin said. “I was making small talk.”
“By pointing out that one of my classmates is now a fancy lawyer at your fancy law firm?”
“Look, if you’re feeling some kind of way about Caleb’s success, that’s on you.”
“Oh, screw you.” Taylor tossed her wooden skewer into the fire pit and stood. “I’m tired, and I need a shower.” She looked to Jamar. “Where are the suitcases?”
“I put yours in your old bedroom,” her dad called from his chair on the other side of the pit. “The young man’s is in the spare room, where he will be sleeping.”
Taylor didn’t even attempt to argue. She’d known better than to expect her parents would be okay with her and Jamar sleeping in the same room. She went back into the house and upstairs to her old bedroom, her anger at Darwin’s attempt to belittle her intensifying by the minute.
Once in her room, Taylor hefted her carry-on onto the bed and unzipped it.
There was a knock at her door.
“Taylor?” came Jamar’s voice.
“Come in,” she called. She continued with her unpacking, taking out the jumpsuit she planned to wear to tomorrow night’s party.
“Are you okay?” Jamar asked, leaning against the closed door.
“I’m fine.” She sighed. “What you witnessed down there was par for the course when it comes to my brother.”
“Umm.” His forehead creased as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Taylor, I’m trying to figure out what your brother said that caused you to go off the way you did.”
“Excuse me?” She tossed the gym shorts she usually slept in back into the open carry-on. “You’re trying to figure out what he said? Did you not hear what he said about Caleb Mitchell and his fancy new job?”
Jamar held his hands up. “I don’t understand how you took that as a slight against you.”
“ ‘Another one of Taylor’s classmates doing big things’?” she said, doing an exaggerated impersonation of Darwin’s voice.
“Is Caleb a classmate of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think it’s a pretty big deal that he got hired as a lawyer?” Jamar said. “It seemed to me that’s all your brother was pointing out.”
His words felt like two swift punches to the gut. Taylor took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Is that how you saw it? Well, given that I’ve known Darwin my entire life, and not just for a couple of hours, I may have a better handle on how to read between the lines when it comes to my brother.”
“Taylor, I—” He reached for her, but she stepped out of his grasp.
“I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to bed,” she said, grabbing her T-shirt and shorts from where she’d tossed them in the open suitcase.
“It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” he said. “What am I supposed to do for the rest of the evening?”
“You seem to get along with my family better than I do,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
She pushed past him on her way out the door, not bothering to answer as he called after her.