Family Ties

”

“We know,” the oldest said. “You’re Aunt Birdy’s boyfriend.”

“That’s the rumor. And you’re… Virginia?” Christy had told me about her nieces and nephews on the flight, and I’d done my best to memorize everyone’s names and ages.

She smiled prettily.

Christy moved next to me.

“And I bet you’re Amber,” I said to the next-oldest girl.

“Uh-huh. And that’s Rose and Grace.”

Grace was small and very shy, with sun-gold hair and eyes like Christy’s, while the others had sandy brown hair and darker blue eyes.

“Grace is mine,” Jim said to me.

“The rest are Harry’s girls.” He tossed his chin toward the door and said to Danny, “Come on. These weigh a ton.

Let’s take ’em back.”

“Let’s go, girls,” Danny said to the gaggle. “Sabrina promised to show you her latest magazines.”

He and Jim disappeared deeper into the house with the girls in tow.

Christy gestured to her parents, so I set down my bags.

“Mom, Dad,” she said, “this is Paul. Paul, meet my mom and dad.”

Her father was an older version of Jim, heavier but still compact, about my height, with dark hair going gray at the temples.

Something about him piqued my interest, a sort of buzzing vitality that age hadn’t diminished. He extended a hand.

“Harold Carmichael,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

I shook his hand firmly and met his eyes, ice blue like Christy’s. “Nice to meet you, s— Mr. Carmichael.”

Christy’s mother was an inch shorter but a few pounds heavier than her daughter. She had blonde hair going slightly gray and eyes the same blue as Jim and Danny’s.

She was a small, elegant woman who’d probably been pretty as a girl, but had grown into her beauty as she’d aged. She smiled warmly.

“I’m Anne. Nice to finally meet you, Paul,” she said. “Christine’s told us so much about you.”

“She’s the only one who calls me that,” Christy whispered up at me.

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Carmichael.”

“Thank you, dear, but call me Anne.”

“Okay, Anne. Nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting me to your lovely home.

”

“You’re more than welcome. Have you eaten?”

“We had dinner on the plane,” Christy said, “but…”

“You’re hungry again? I’m a bit peckish myself. Why don’t you show Paul where he’ll sleep and then we’ll have a snack.” She smiled at me. “You can take your things through there. I hope you don’t mind the porch. We’re a bit cramped for space. The weather here never gets very cold, though, and it’s actually quite nice out there.”

“Danny said it’s fine,” I fibbed.