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“You guys know Jamie,” he simply says.
They both smile down at me with wide grins. Chris didn’t get his height and mass out of nowhere. Both Hannah and Thomas are extraordinarily tall and big. Especially Thomas.
“Jamie, we haven’t seen you in years!” Hannah beams.
“I’d love to say ‘you’ve grown so much’ but I think you’re about the same height as I last saw you. When you were thirteen,” Thomas jokes.
I laugh heartily as Hannah gives him a light slap on the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to him, sweetie. You’re a gorgeous young woman. How are you? How’s your mom?” she asks.
“Mom’s good. She’s in Tennessee, visiting her sister,” I reply, staying as vague as possible. This is not the ‘poor Jamie show’.
“Yes, Jake said your aunt wasn’t well. I was sorry to hear. I wish her a good recovery.”
I’m surprised Jake talked to them about me. I thought he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t share girlfriend things with his ‘parents’. Even if he was, I would have never imagined he was this close to Hannah and Thomas.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here, we haven’t seen you in so long,” Thomas changes topics.
“And as Jake’s guest,” Hannah adds. “All those years we thought Chris would suddenly show up with you to family dinners and here you are…with our baby Jake! We thought he’d never introduce anyone to us.”
“Hannah,” Jake groans in a chuckle. “It’s Christmas, do I have to put up with the whole ‘parents embarrassing me in front of girlfriend’ thing?”
“It’s a rite of passage, son. We took out the childhood pictures when Rachel first came over. Didn’t we, Rosie?” Thomas turns to Rose as he remembers. “Where’s Rachel, by the way? We haven’t seen her since we’ve been back.”
Rose makes a face as she looks up from the video she’s watching with Chris. “Far far away from me,” she shrugs. It’s forced and she’s clearly pretending it’s not affecting her, but Thomas just goes with it and nods.
I try to keep my eyes from widening at, not only the nickname that the Murrays use for Stoneview Prep’s bad bitch, Rose White, not only that Rachel was actually introduced to their family as her girlfriend, but mainly that Thomas calls Jake ‘son’.
It’s always so strange to see people from school in their home, with parents. They’re more vulnerable, truly themselves. They don’t put up masks and fake attitudes. Seeing the twins, especially Jake, with their family brings me incomparable joy. He deserves the happiness the Murrays bring him.
“Here, here. Have a glass of champagne, Jamie,” Thomas orders more than he suggests when he brings the glass over to me.
After countless pictures and games, we sit for a late lunch cooked by their chef. They seem like a normal family, but let’s not forget they still are unbelievably rich. It would have surprised me more if they didn’t have a chef bringing all the delicacies we currently have on the table.
I indulge in the delicious turkey and all the side dishes that come with it. We drink way too much wine, which doesn’t seem to bother Chris’ parents.
Jake and I can’t get enough of each other and our hands keep meeting, under the table at first, until he brings them to rest on the silk tablecloth. I don’t miss the look Hannah and Thomas give to each other when they notice their foster son running his thumb on my small hand, or when he smiles down at me and kisses my forehead. They’re happy for him. For us. Jake and I have had so many people against us along the way that it feels reassuring to finally be able to be ourselves and still be supported by the people we love and that matters the most. It’s the only thing that counts.
I enjoy the intellectual conversations with the Murrays, we get along even more now than we did in the past and there’s no wondering where Chris got his knowledge. They’re open to debate and doubt, to teaching and evolving and I see why their son is so kind-hearted.
As we’re just finishing our desserts, pushing our stomachs past their limits, the staff comes to get our plates. The conversation slightly dies down and Chris suggests moving to the game room. His parents leave us for their own entertainment and the four of us end up playing old arcade games together.
A couple of hours later, I’m still supporting Jake playing an old version of Street Fighter with Chris, jumping on the spot next to him and clapping like a fangirl. Chris laughs at my encouragement and pouts.
“Come on, Jamie, I could use the support too!” he laughs.
“Oh, shit,” Rose’s voice cuts through our video game fun. She was lying on the red vinyl sofa on the far end of the room but suddenly sits up, looking at her phone.
“Did you see what happened to the Diaz brothers?”
Jake and Chris look up and I turn to her fully.
“What?” Jake queries. He’s still toying with the remote in his hand but not looking at the screen anymore. Lately, anything related to Nathan has been getting him fidgety.
“They got jumped by some of Volkov’s guys,” Rose replies as she gets up to walk toward us.
She stands next to me, showing her phone to her brother and reminding me of the height difference between her model size and mine. I glance at the phone to see her conversation with Carlo, which includes a picture of his face and it’s anything but a pretty sight right now. A few texts that explain how they were jumped on their way to delivering bags of weed accompany his beaten-up face on the screen.
