Nervously washing my hands for the millionth time as the late morning sunlight streams through my windows, I call out, “Hannah? Did you brush your teeth?”

The air conditioning is on since it’s about to become hot in here. I’m already sweating and it has nothing to do with the temperature.

Everything’s spotless and ready.

I’ve got napkins out but that’s it.

I don’t have enough plates and glasses to handle an event like this, but I was assured it would all be taken care of by someone who knows how to throw a party way better than I do.

I nixed the idea for one of our infamous Cocker Family BBQ’s because I didn’t want to overwhelm Hannah with all the chaos at the home I grew up in. New environment and all those people? Emotional overload. An informal brunch here at the home she’s becoming familiar with is much easier for her little head to take.

A knock on the door makes me jump in my skin. Hannah pokes her head out of the bathroom and I wave her over. She doesn’t move fast enough so I shout to the door, “Coming!” and run to grab her. She laughs as I spin her around — it’s become a thing with us. Putting her on my hip and kissing the side of her head I whisper, “Now don’t freak out. Most of the people you’re about to meet you’ve been talking on my phone to already, okay?”

“Okay,” Hannah says.

I think I’m scaring her because I’m so nervous.

The door knocks again.

I shout, “I said HANG ON!” and turn to see her gazing at me with her finger heading for her nose. “No, don’t pick that. In fact, never pick that in public. In the bathroom, when you’re alone, you can do it all day long, okay?” She nods, finger floating away. “You ready to meet my family? I mean, sorry, our family.”

She looks at the door as Mom calls through, “Justin, these are heavy!”

“Shit! Sorry! Coming!” Hannah’s fine hair blows back in the wind as I rush to swing the door open. Their eyes land on Hannah and Mom almost drops a large fruit salad bowl to grab my daughter. “Hold on, Mom!” She hesitates, while Dad’s face is pure shock.

“Justin, she looks just like you did when you were five!”

Dad hoarsely whispers over the lump in his throat, “It’s uncanny.”

“Hannah, these are my parents, so they’re your grandparents, just like Grandma Claire is. Remember you talked to them on the phone?”

She nods, shyly staring.

“Can I hold you?” Mom whispers with so much desperate need that I feel bad for her because I know the answer won’t be yes that easily.

Hannah burrows into my neck. I place a protective hand on the back of her head and say, “Give it time.”

Mom nods and Dad looks like he wants to console his wife but his hands are full with paper bags. “We’ll just start unwrapping everything. I think we’re a bit stunned.”

“It’s okay. Go ahead.”

The elevator doors open revealing Jake, Drew, and Emma, with infant Ethan in Drew’s arms. Emma’s holding Jake’s hand and she’s wobbling. She’s like three now I think. Who the fuck knows how old she is, I don’t know – but Hannah finds her very interesting. Jake stares at my daughter and shakes his head to me. “Wow.” He offers an amazed grin. “Hi Hannah. I’m Jake. The one who told you about Emma? Remember? This is her. And this is my wife, Drew. That’s Ethan, but he’s too little to talk. He just lies there.”

“Jake!” Drew laughs. “Hi Hannah. It’s very nice to meet you!”

Mom calls from the kitchen, “Isn’t it amazing how much she looks like Justin did? You’ve seen the photos, Drew! Isn’t it incredible.”

I’ve gotta love her for not adding Jason into that comparison. When you’re a twin people rarely give you a separate identity. Mom always has. Maybe that’s why he and I are so different, and have become our own men.

Dad greets them as he unwraps thick paper plates and real silverware. “Jake. Drew. How are you?”

“Good, Michael,” Drew says. “Paper plates?”

Mom nods, “Biodegradable.”

“Ah,” Drew smiles. “Well that makes more sense.”

I left my front door open and through it booms Jaxson. “Hello hello hello!” Rachel follows him in, with baby Ben sleeping in her arms. She and Jax freeze upon sight of Hannah.

“Oh my God, she’s beautiful,” Rachel breathes.

My oldest brother keeps shaking his head, emerald green eyes on fire with amazement. “Seeing her on T.V. is very different from seeing her in person. Damn, well nice to meet you Hannah. I’m Jaxson. This is my wife, Rachel. Ben’s been drugged, sorry.”

Mom calls out, “Jaxson! That’s not a funny joke.”

“Yeah it is,” he smirks. To Hannah, “I told you I have a ranch when we talked on the phone. Remember the cows you listened to? That was me.”

She nods and a smile appears on her face for the first time. “Hi,” she whispers, waving.

Everyone makes noises like they just saw the first fireworks on Fourth of July. I’m grinning ear-to-ear. “She really wants to see those cows.”

“And the chickens,” Hannah smiles, starting to enjoy the attention.

Dad laughs, “Kids and chickens…they love ‘em.”

“We brought fresh eggs like you asked,” Rachel offers, motioning to Jaxson to bring them inside. “And cheese from our farm.”

Mom lights up. “Oh, how exciting! I love fresh cheese. Did you bring milk?”

“Of course, but cheese is far more exciting to my wife,” Jaxson smirks, placing his bags down.

The elevator doors opens again and Jeremy walks out with Jason and his pregnant wife. “Look who we found!” Jason calls out, his arm flung around our youngest, brooding brother.

Jeremy’s expression is subdued until he sees Hannah and comes to life. “Hey there, green eyed girl! I’m Jeremy. Do you remember talking to me?”

She shakes her head.

When Emma was a little over a year old Jeremy returned from his service. He was happy to see everyone again, having only come home for short visits with much time between them. But as the sheen of returning home wore off, he became more distant. We can only ever get him on the phone.

Mom and Dad have been worried, and I see hope in their eyes as he greets Hannah with such a big smile, reminiscent of how he used to be.

I suggest to him, “Give her a clue.”

He thinks about it as everyone watches him, the room silent. He’s unaware of it but we’re all hoping she remembers him because we don’t want to see that smile go away again. “Um…what did we talk about that you would remember? Oh! I told you I have a dog. He barked for you, remember that?”

She reaches out for him. His face contorts with emotion and shock as he looks at me and takes her from my arms. Everyone’s mouths are open. He hugs her, and she whispers, “Aslan.”

A huge grin spreads on Jeremy. “That’s right! His name is Aslan. What a great memory, Hannah!”

Choked up, I tell them all, “Her mom read her Chronicles of Narnia.”

“Oh,” several whisper, the room quieted by the tragedy that, in an awful way, has made this event possible.

Mom, an experienced hostess I knew I could rely on, brightens up with a forced smile. “Jake, why don’t you turn on some music?”

“Right,” he mutters, heading for my remote. “I wish Jett had been able to come.”

Mom waves it away, wanting to bring the mood back up. “He said the next time he’s even five hundred miles away he’d make a special trip.”

Irritated as always by the subject of Jett and his biker lifestyle, Dad shoves his hands in his pockets. “Grams wanted to come but she’s got a cold and didn’t want any of the kids to be exposed.”

“Can I hold her now?” Mom asks, coming over.

Hannah reaches for me again, which makes Mom squish her mouth up. Blinking a moment, she says, “I’ve got an idea! Hannah, do you like Mickey Mouse?”

From my hip now, my daughter nods.

“I’m going to make you Mickey Mouse pancakes!” She runs over to start cracking eggs while she hums.

“Gotta hand it to you, Mom, you’re a problem solver,” Jason laughs.

The morning continues with everyone sharing stories about what’s going on in their lives right now. The wives hole up on the couch and swap stories of morning sickness, with Drew and Rachel both giving Jason’s wife tips.

Dad grills me about what I’m going to do until the next election comes. I’m more than happy to tell him, and we get into a heavy debate because, while we’re both Republicans, Dad is much more conservative than I am. I’m liberal on many counts, and he hates it, but who the fuck cares? Difference of belief is what this country is built on and debates such as these create conversations that both parties need to have.

Jake, Jeremy, and Jason scarf up most of the food, being the fucking garbage disposals that they are. Especially my twin. I swear that guy could eat Montana and still be reaching for my plate.

Jaxson spends a lot of his time holding Ben for Hannah to stare at and touch. She’s in love with Jaxson’s son and he gazes at her like she’s magic, too. Emma is at the age where she’s a pain in the ass. She wants to put my remote control in her mouth, as well as anything else she can find.

Mom makes pancakes that win Hannah over and while she doesn’t let her pick her up, Hannah hugs her and that brings tears to Mom’s eyes.

She mouths to me, “I love her already.”

With a forkful of eggs in one hand and toast in the other, Jason asks over the noise, “Hey Justin, where’s Jaimie?”

Like dominoes in a gust of wind, my family stops talking and all eyes land on me. Even Hannah’s.

Clearing my throat I blink to the floor. “At home I guess. I don’t know.”

Jason’s lips go tight. People exchange glances. Hannah is staring at me with those big eyes of hers that see fucking everything.

“What?” I half-chuckle, trying to mask my discomfort. “Why’d everyone stop talking?”