Page 85 of Keepsakes and Kismet

I give him a cheery smile, jutting my chin out from behind Lila’s little shoulder. “Hi, Mr. Galvin. Collect any new stamps lately?”

The smile lines around his eyes crinkle at the question. “Why, yes, I have. And you can call me Colin, dear.”

I pat Lila’s back. “Callum never told me that the ‘C’ theme extends to you, too.”

“Yes, me and Catherine. It’s how the theme came to be.” He gives a little hand flourish.

“Very cohesive. I love it.”

He gestures toward the little girl on my hip. “And Lila seems to love you, I see.”

“We’re besties now. I’ve already started planning the bead colors for our friendship bracelets.”

Colin laughs. “You are such a joy. We’re thrilled Callum found you. He’s very lucky.”

I throw a pretend glare his way. “Hey, don’t give him all the credit. We kind of found each other. I’m lucky, too.”

A familiar hand wraps around my waist. “You talking about me behind my back, Pey?”

“Only terrible things, son,” his father adds with a wink.

“Damn, Dad.” Callum grins. “Not in front of my girlfriend.”

The gentle teasing, the way Callum’s able to be himself around his parents… I wish I had that with mine.

There’s a different kind of ache that comes with having a “just fine” relationship with your parents. Nothing ever went wrong. There wasn’t a big, dramatic incident. We’re not “no-contact.” We touch base every couple months over the phone, and I maybe see them twice a year. I have fine parents. But that’s it—fine.

Mom wasn’t ever my confidant, and Dad didn’t get me through my first heartbreak. The Christmas trees stopped the second I found out about Santa, the Tooth Fairy’s financial reserves dried up just shy of my molars falling out, and they sold our childhood home and booked the next flight to Greece before I blew out the candles on my nineteenth birthday cake. I think they spent last Thanksgiving in Thailand.

We don’t have inside jokes as a family, and we’d never swear in front of each other, or act super silly… I guess it was all just kind of polite.

Callum’s lucky to have two over-the-top, loving parents.

And love they do.

Callum starts steering me away from his dad, and I throw an amused wave goodbye over Lila’s shoulder. He leads me into the family room, where his brother plays the piano. When Christopher spots Lila fused to my side, he switches to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and throws me a wink. “This one always cheers her up.”

At the opening notes, Lila’s head perks up a bit, leaving a puddle of tears (and probably some snot) on my shoulder. Worth it. I sway Lila to the music, humming softly, and by the second chorus, Lila kicks her legs, signaling a dismount. I let her down, and she runs off to find her twin brother.

“You’re free,” Callum grabs my hand.

I intertwine my fingers with his. “I already miss being Lila’s prisoner.”

Christopher stops playing. “Any requests, Peyton? You’re our special guest.”

I tap my chin, remembering one of the songs Callum played on the car ride here. “Hm… do you know ‘Come Rain or Come Shine’ by Frank Sinatra?”

Christopher nods, smiling to himself.

“Stop stealing my favorite genre,” Callum murmurs. “I thought you didn’t like ‘elderly music.’”

Giving his hand a squeeze, I lean closer to him so he can hear me over the piano. “I’m warming to it.”

Callum presses his lips against my forehead and lingers there for a moment, just breathing against my skin. He starts swinging my hand to the rhythm of the music, and we stay like that until the song ends. I drop Callum’s hand to clap for Christopher, and he gives a little bow before heading back into the kitchen to check on the family.

When we turn to follow Christopher, I nearly run into the bookshelf to my right. It’s full of picture frames, and some of them rattle from the bump.

I scooch back a few frames that moved. “Whoops.”