Chapter 20

Alexander

With the exception of some faded mauve paint on the window shutters, my childhood home looked exactly the same as it had at last year’s Christmas visit, and every year before that. I looked over at Casey, who seemed to be enamored by the surplus of Christmas decorations and figures that covered the front lawn. My parents were the only ones on the block with more than a single strand of Christmas lights. “This is it,” she said. “The childhood home of the Alexander Preston.”

I laughed and gave her a quick kiss before turning off the ignition. I was nervous about Casey meeting my family, not because I worried they wouldn’t like her, but because I was worried she wouldn’t like them. They were, well, interesting—but they always meant well. I took Casey’s hand and led her up the walkway.

“Are we staying here?” Casey asked.

“We’re actually calling the Sheraton home tonight,” I said with a smile. “They turned my old bedroom into an office four or five years ago.” I squeezed Casey’s hand, as if to say “Here goes nothing”, and rang the doorbell. “No matter how this goes, remember that I love you.”

“Alex!” my mother screeched as she met us in the doorway. “My boy is home!”

I knew what was coming. “Alex?” Casey whispered, nudging me.

“Only my mother calls me that,” I said quietly between grated teeth. “I’m not a fan.” Casey giggled as my mother wrapped me in a tight embrace. I stepped back and put out a hand toward Casey. “Mom, this is Casey.”

“Oh, my darling, it’s so great to meet you,” my mother said, pulling Casey in for a hug. “Alex here never brings his lady friends around, so you must be something special. Come on in! I’m Lynn, by the way.”

I wasn’t sure who was blushing harder—Casey or myself—but we obliged and followed my mother into the family room. Casey’s bump was covered by an oversized sweater and strategically-placed scarf, and, after seeing how crazy my mother was behaving meeting a girlfriend of mine, I knew we’d made the right decision to make one revelation at a time.

My sister, Emily, and knucklehead brothers, Connor and Patrick, were seated next to my father on the sofa. I took Casey around the room and introduced her to each of them. If she was overwhelmed, she was doing a great job of hiding it. She seemed genuinely excited to meet them.

“Marc Preston,” my father said, reaching out his hand to shake Casey’s. “Nice to meet you.”

God, I wanted this to go well. Though I admittedly didn’t see my family as often as I’d like, we were what most would consider to be a close-knit family. I knew they had no reason not to like Casey, but that didn’t do anything to take the nerves way.

“It’s so great to meet you,” Casey said, with notes of sincerity in her voice. “I’ve heard so many great things about you!”

That was all it took to start things off on a positive note. Mom sent us all over into the dining room for coffee and snacks, and Casey excused herself and went down the hallway to use the bathroom. This was my chance to talk to my family alone, quite possibly one of the only chances I’d get all visit. “Guys, listen up,” I said gruffly but quietly.

“What is it?” Emily asked, rolling her eyes.

My mom and dad moved closer, and my brothers and sister followed suit. They all, with the exception of Emily, looked as if they were expecting a big reveal. “Please just be nice to Casey,” I said. “Take it easy on her.”

“Of course we will, sweetheart,” Mom said. “She seems like a sweet girl.”

I nodded. “She is.”

“Is that all?” Dad asked.

“Well…umm…” I started. I didn’t know how long Casey would be in the bathroom, and I didn’t want to drop too big of a bomb on them at once. “I think she might be the one.”

“Oh my gosh!” Mom squealed. “I had no idea things were so serious.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening told me it was time to end the conversation and create an appearance of normalcy. “Well, they are,” I whispered. We all sat down at the table, joined by Casey, as my mom carried plate after plate of fancy-looking desserts to the table.

“I thought you said we were just having a few small snacks, Lynn,” my dad said.

“We are,” Mom replied. We all burst out laughing as we looked at the extensive spread she had put out. Just in my line of vision were miniature cheesecakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and banana bread. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was lurking on the other end of the table.

As we passed around the plates of food and pitchers of coffee, I paid careful attention to Casey. I wanted to learn every part of her, including her dessert and coffee habits. She took her coffee decaffeinated and black and opted for all things chocolate—the chocolate berries, a chocolate chip cookie, homemade chocolate fudge. I, on the other hand, liked my coffee loaded with cream and sweetener, and settled on banana bread and strawberry shortcake. Opposites attract, I told myself.

In between bites of dessert, I listened intently as my siblings caught me up on their lives. Emily told stories about her medical rotations that made me want to stay far away from the hospital, but also that made me immensely proud of my sister. She’d been interested in the medical profession since she was five years old, playing pretend doctor with her dolls. It was crazy to think that she was just months away from becoming a real, certified doctor.

“How’s the school year treating you?” I asked Connor when Emily was done her update.

“I have a great group of kids this year,” Connor said. He launched into a rant about how they had made some last-minute changes in the curriculum for the year that made things more difficult for him and listed a bunch of historical terms that didn’t sound even remotely familiar to me. Connor was brilliant, and his students were lucky to have him as a teacher. He was one of those people who genuinely cared about the topic he taught—and who actually liked going to museums. Connor could spend hours talking about any war, or historical figure, or time period in history like it was no big deal.

Casey cleared her throat to speak. “One of my co-workers told me about a new Revolutionary War exhibit that opened over in St. Petersburg,” she said. “She visited while she was on vacation. Have you had a chance to check it out yet?”

If only Casey knew how many brownie points that question just earned her with Connor. He loved finding new people to talk about history with—or, rather, people who were willing to listen to him talk about history. “Opening day,” Connor beamed. “It was incredible. So many cool artifacts and unique perspectives. They even had an entire exhibit dedicated to Revolutionary War-era artwork.”

“That sounds awesome,” Casey said. If she didn’t mean it, she was doing a good job of faking it. “I don’t suppose I can get your brother to stop with me on the way back to Atlanta.”

She said it in a joking manner, and it was a good thing, because my entire family responded in the form of laughter. History was not my forte, nor were museums. Once we had finally moved on from the Revolutionary War exhibit, I anxiously awaited Patrick’s updates. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d held the same job between two of my visits, and I was curious to see if the trend continued.

“I have a new job,” Patrick said. I wasn’t surprised in the least. However, I was surprised to learn that he had landed a stable office job and had been there for nearly four months. “I love it. I mostly do data entry stuff, but I feel like I’m really doing something meaningful, more than selling shoes or scooping ice cream.”

I had to admit that I was relieved. As the eldest brother, I felt a sense of responsibility for my siblings. I wanted them all to succeed. I had offered Patrick a job at my company more than once, but he didn’t want to move up to Atlanta. It was good to hear that he was doing well, and even better that he had gotten his act together in time for Casey to think my family was normal.

“Casey, what do you do for a living?” Mom asked.

“I work as an administrative assistant at a medical office,” Casey said with a smile. I had to commend her on her word choice. “Basically, I spend my days scheduling appointments, greeting patients, filing, that sort of thing.”

“Well I think that sounds lovely,” Dad said, chiming in for the first time in a while. “Is that what you went to school for? Business of some kind?”

Uh oh. I knew that my family was bound to say something off-limits, but I hadn’t given them proper warning. Telling them about Casey’s upbringing would have been just as bad, if not worse, than Casey telling them herself. I didn’t want to upset anyone, and I prayed that my dad’s question didn’t upset Casey.

“Kind of,” Casey started. “I went to school for business with a focus in marketing, but, unfortunately, I never graduated.” She said it in a way that sounded more like a story she was happy to tell, rather than an answer she dreaded giving.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dad said.

Before I could change the topic, Patrick blurted, “Why not?”. He wasn’t so keen on reading people. Everyone looked at Patrick as though he was a two-year-old who’d just revealed a secret.

“Darling, you don’t have to share with us,” Mom said, trying to brush over the topic.

Casey shook her head. “No, it’s alright,” she said. “I didn’t have the money to pay for my last year of tuition, so I decided to take the year off to save up money.” My parents nodded with understanding. “I found my job I have now, and I enjoy it, so I just never went back.”

“Your parents must be proud of you for working so hard,” Dad said. Dear lord. Could this conversation have taken any worse of a turn? They were hitting all the topics I hoped so desperately they would avoid. Up until that point, I was thankful that no one had asked too much about her family. They’d stuck to basics, like whether she had any siblings. I knew Casey didn’t need to be reminded of her broken family life, but here my family was, bringing it up.

“Let’s change the topic,” I nudged. I knew I was being less-than-subtle, but I still thought it would be better than making Casey take a trip down memory lane. Instead, Casey surprised me by opening up to my family. She told them about her mother’s death, and how she’d spent her teenage years in foster care, and that she had been on her own since she was 18. She didn’t go into too much detail, but she gave enough to satisfy everyone’s curiosity without feeling like she was baring her soul to them.

My dad’s response to her story caught everyone by surprise, possibly more so than Casey’s detailing of her history. “Well, then, I was right,” he said. “Your mom must be proud of you for working so hard.”

Casey mouthed a “thank you” to him as we subtly changed the topic to something less intense. My mom launched into a story about one of her book club meetings, but I didn’t particularly care to listen. Something in the mood of the room had changed. It was like we were a family, instead of a family plus a new girlfriend. I could tell from the look in Casey’s eyes that she was glad to have been honest with them. Likewise, I could tell from the satisfied looks on my siblings’ faces that they admired Casey’s honesty and all that she had overcome.

I finally looked at my watch as a hint to my mother that we were ready to head out. Thankfully, she picked up on my signal.

“It’s been a pleasure chatting with you, Casey,” Dad said as we got up from the table. “You’re quite impressive, young lady.”

Casey blushed. “Thank you so much for having me.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Mom said, filling our hands with Ziploc bags full of desserts we were far too full to eat. “5:30 sharp. Don’t be late.”

Before I could answer, I heard Casey’s cheerful voice next to me. “We won’t! Promise!”