Laura comes striding up the hall. I’m surprised by how much she’s aged in the four years since I last saw her. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and ruffled blouse, makeup still on her face.

After how long she’s been insisting I come visit, I’m expecting hugs and kisses. Instead, she points a warning finger in my direction. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

I slump. “You’ve spoken to Zoe.”

“You bet I have. Jesus, TJ. And here I thought you’d actually come back to see the kids and me.”

“That is why I’m here.”

“If I didn’t think it was going to be another four years before I saw you again, I’d rip your head off.” She fixes me with a hard, angry stare. Then her posture softens. “As it is, I don’t want to spend what little time we have together arguing.” She steps toward me and wraps her arms around me.

I hug her back. “I really do want to see you and the kids. Where are they anyway?”

“Probably hiding. I’ve taught them not to talk to strangers.”

“Hah. Very funny.”

“They’re in the living room. Come on.” She leads me into the living room. The kids are now home from school.

There’s Megan. She’s sprawled out on the sofa, doing something on her phone. I wouldn’t have recognized her if I saw her on the street. She’s grown from an energetic, grinning nine-year-old into a sulking teenage girl wearing leggings and an oversized sweater. She’s glued to the cellphone in her hand, barely registering that I’ve entered the room.

Jack is on the floor watching TV. He’s kneeling in front of the screen, his little body lifting and slumping with excitement and swaying side to side as he follows the action in his show. He turns around when I enter, and a big grin sweeps across his face, showing a couple of missing baby teeth.

Last time I saw him, his teeth were just coming in. Now those teeth are falling out, making way for his adult set. It hits home how much time has passed.

I smile at the children. “Hi, guys. Remember me?”

Megan flicks her eyes up. Her face a picture of disinterest, she shrugs. “Hey, TJ.”

“It’s Uncle TJ,” Laura tells her.

“Actually, it’s Uncle Tom.”

“Uh-huh,” Megan responds, returning her gaze to the screen of her cell phone.

I crouch beside Jack. “Hi, Jack. What are you watching?”

Jack looks at me, and then up at Laura. He seems unsure of me, but when Laura encourages him with a nod, he smiles and speaks to me. “Batman.”

“Batman, cool! He’s a billionaire, right?”

“Yeah.”

I grin. “So am I.”

Laura bats me on the shoulder. “TJ! Don’t tell the kids that.”

“What?”

“That you’re made of money. Jesus. That’s not how I raise them.”

“It’s hardly a state secret.”

“I don’t want them to know. Then every time I can’t afford something, they’ll be saying, ‘But Uncle TJ would buy it for me.’ I told you about this when you sent Jack that ridiculous remote-controlled boat.”

“I thought you said he loved the boat?”

“He did. Until he took it to the shore and it got swallowed up by a wave. Then he cried for weeks because he wanted a new one, and I don’t have the money to drop three grand on a toy.”

“I would have bought him another one if you’d asked.”

“I’d rather you recognize our lifestyle and try to fit in, okay?”

“Fine. If that’s what you want. I won’t mention my billions.” I cast Jack a knowing sideways glance. “Or my Batcave.”

His eyes light up.

I turn to Megan. “How’s things at school, Megan?”

She shrugs. “Fine.”

“Done anything fun lately?”

Megan drops her phone on the sofa with a dramatic sigh and finally gives me a proper look. “I tried to have fun last weekend, and Mom didn’t like it.”

“She went out drinking with her friends and came home drunk.”

“I see.” I grin at Megan. “Don’t worry. Your Mom and I used to get up to all sorts of nonsense ourselves at that age.”

“TJ!” Laura exclaims. She grabs me by the arm and pulls me to the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” When we’re alone, she lays into me. “What are you thinking, telling Megan that?”

“What? It’s true.”

“It may be true, but it undermines me. Jesus, you’ve been here five minutes, and you’ve already made my life a million times harder. Can you at least try to think like an adult, for a change? Think about what a parent might do?”

“‘Welcome home, Tom.’”

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Maybe if you hadn’t taken so long to visit, you’d know how to act around them. Or at least know how I’d want you to act around them.”

My shoulders slump. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Of course I don’t want you to leave.” Laura closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them, she smiles, then rests her hands on my upper arms. “I’m sorry. I know you’re making an effort to be here.”

“You have me until New Year’s.”

Her face brightens. “I know! I can’t believe it. I haven’t spent that much time with you since we were kids.”

“I’m looking forward to it, too.”

She scoffs. “Sure, you are.” She waves her hands. “I don’t care. You’re here. That’s all that matters. Let’s have a great Christmas.”

Spending an evening with my family is strange. It’s been so long since I’ve been part of all that. My memories of family life are of persistent arguments with my parents, always having to apologize, and never quite living up to everyone’s expectations. I was glad to get away from it all and start a life where I didn’t have to answer to anyone. Where I never had to say I’m sorry.

I’m quiet at dinner, and Laura notices. She casts me a curious smile, one eyebrow slightly raised, almost in amusement. “Out of your comfort zone, TJ?”

I make a face. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What’s wrong with TJ?”

“I hate it.”

“What do you go by now, then? ‘His Majesty’?”

“Tom will do.”

“How’s the food?”

“Great.”

“I bet it’s not up to whatever your private chef usually cooks.”

“I don’t have a private chef.”

“Well, I know for a fact that you don’t cook for yourself.”

I offer a little shrug. “Takeout, mostly. Or whatever is in the office canteen. Client dinners out two or three times a week.”

“Mm-hmm.” I sense her judgment. She twirls spaghetti around her fork with that knowing little smile still lingering on her face.

Megan’s texting on her phone.

“Meg, honey, put that away. We’re at the table.”

“It’s Justin.”

“I don’t care if it’s the president of the United States. We’re eating.”

Megan scowls and puts her phone away. I use the opportunity to try and win her over.

“Which version do you have?”

“An iPhone.”

“Let me see.”

Cautiously, she hands me her cell. I look it over, then hand it back. “It’s the old model.”

“What have you got?”

I pull out my top-of-the-line phone. “It’s got facial and voice recognition, slimline, platinum-plated. Highest resolution on any cell camera.”

Megan reaches eagerly for the phone and turns it in her hands. Her expression twists into envy. “I didn’t even think these were on the market yet.”

“It’s all about who you know.”

Laura rolls her eyes. I think she wants to scold me—probably something about not flashing my cash around her kids—but she holds her tongue. I guess she’s just happy I’m talking to my niece.

After telling Megan to put her phone away, Laura’s attention turns to Jack. He’s trying to eat his own spaghetti and has got more down his top than in his mouth. A third of his face is covered in tomato sauce, a little piece of onion hanging off his chin.

She hands him a paper towel. “Wipe your mouth, sweetie.”

I chuckle. “You’ve got your hands full here.”

Laura shoots me an irritated glance. “Yes. I do.”

She’s trying to make me feel guilty. “I noticed the house needs some repairs. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I do call you. All the time.”

“No, I mean, why didn’t you ask me for some help?”

She lets out a hollow laugh and shakes her head with disdain. “I don’t need your money, Tom. We’re hardly living in the gutters. This is what houses look like when people don’t have maids running around after them. Welcome to your average middle-class home.”

“I wasn’t trying to criticize.”

“No, you were trying to condescend.”

“I was trying to help.” I shake my head and place my fork down, slouching in my chair. I can already remember why I left in the first place. All my best intentions have always been misinterpreted by my relatives. Every time I try to help, people search for the ulterior motive. They spent so long treating me like a jerk that I started to act like one.

“You know, you won’t win over Zoe with all that bravado. She’s not into flashy guys.” She raises her eyes to me in warning. “And you’d better not toy with her, either. She’s my best friend.”

“You don’t know anything about my love life, Laura. A lot of women find my company enjoyable.”

“They find your money enjoyable.”

I tighten my grip on my glass of water and glare at Laura. “If you don’t want me here, I can go back to New York.”

Laura bows her head then reaches across to squeeze my hand. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still angry that it took you so long to come back here.”

“I’m here now. We’ll make it a nice Christmas like you said.”

“I hope so.” She places her cutlery down, too. “And what about Zoe?”

I hold my hands up. “When she realized I was the person she’s been speaking to online, she wasn’t having any of it. Seems like a little birdie has been telling her some bad things about me.”

Laura smirks guiltily. “I didn’t know you were going to go after her.”

“Neither did I. I was just as shocked as she was.”

“It’s over before it began, then?”

“Not necessarily.” I pause, studying Laura’s expression carefully. “Would you be upset if I asked her out again?”

She runs her finger along the edge of the table. “I know that Zoe really cared about this person she was talking to online. You. If she wants to see you again, I won’t stand in the way. It seemed like you two had a real connection over these last six months. But don’t get her hopes up, then disappear, or play games with her. She’s a wonderful person, and I don’t want you to come between us. If you hurt her, don’t expect me to jump to your defense.”

“I won’t hurt her.”

“You’re only here until New Year’s. How serious can this thing get?”

I can’t answer that question. All I know is that the woman I’ve been speaking to has been easier to talk to than anyone else around me. She hasn’t judged or expected me to be anything or do anything. She let me be me and seemed to like that person. That unconditional friendship has meant a lot to me.

When I decided to come to Portland, I’d been hoping for more. Now I’ve found out that the mystery woman is Zoe Lockhart, the girl who’d lived next door when we were children. She and Laura had hit it off from day one, but Zoe and I had always rubbed each other the wrong way.

She’s not the little girl next door anymore.

“I don’t know, Laura, but I think I’d like to see where it goes. I know she’s your best friend, and it’s awkward. But this woman I’ve been speaking to has been a friend to me, too. I don’t want to lose her.”

“That’s probably the most sincere thing you’ve said since you stepped in the door.” Laura holds up her hands. “It’s not up to me. You and Zoe are both adults. It’s up to you if you want to be together. Just keep my warning in mind, Tom. Please don’t let her down.”

Megan’s ears are twitching. She perks up. She’s suddenly forgotten all about her phone, a big grin jumping to her face at fresh gossip. “Him and Aunt Zoe?”

“First, we’re not calling your Uncle Tom ‘him.’ Secondly, it’s none of your beeswax, young lady.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for listening to the conversation you’re having while I’m sitting right here.” She rolls her eyes, then flicks her gaze toward me. “She’s way out of your league.”

“Megan!” Laura gasps. “That’s incredibly rude. Apologize to your uncle. Then I want you to take Jack upstairs for his bath.”

“Fine.” She turns reluctantly toward me. “Sorry for having an opinion.” She takes Jack’s sticky hand and leads him upstairs.

Laura places her head in her hand and lets out a long breath. “I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do with that girl. She’s got such an attitude these days.”

“She’s just being a teenager.”

Laura begins to collect the plates from the table. I help her. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I cleared my own plate.

“Thanks, Tom.”

She smiles at me. I smile back. At last, a moment of familiarity.