Page 35

Chapter

Thirty-Two

HADLEY

Hadley: Jonas and I arrived in Chicago! Can’t wait to see you!

Natalie: Yay!

Natalie: Wait, what about Evan? Did he drive separately?

Hadley: No, he changed his mind at the last minute.

Natalie: Aw, that’s too bad. I’ll have to text him and see what’s up.

Jonas’s family is overwhelming, and I’m here for it. I’ve lost track of how many nieces I met. Eight? Would they wear name tags if I asked? I need a diagram or a family tree.

There are three older sisters. They each trooped into the backyard with a husband and a handful of girls in tow.

All girls. Some families look alike, but not the Kaminskis.

Sure, I can tell they are related, but Mary is a red-head and so are two of the sisters.

Jonas has dark hair like his dad, and the little girls are a mix of everything.

So many siblings. I’ve got Hunter, but that was only for the summer when I was at my dad’s.

Most of the time it was me and my mom and whatever boyfriend she had acquired.

I didn’t bother to keep track. And she was gone a lot when I was in high school.

She has a thing for athletes, so she’d often travel around with the team.

All that to say, I’ve never been at a family gathering this large in my life.

It should be too much, but it’s amazing.

All the girls run around in a pack, alternating between whispering and yelling.

The oldest is Leighton. I remember that, because we chatted about Taylor Swift.

She’s twelve and showed me her bracelets she traded with her friends at school.

Upon arrival, Mary scooped her youngest granddaughter straight out of her mother’s arms and smothered her with kisses.

The baby’s green eyes and the dusting of red hair on top of her head match her grandmother’s.

I’m not sure how old she is, but not big enough to walk yet.

Jonas’s brothers-in-law gather at the grill with his dad, cracking open long-necked bottles.

His sisters group together, too, chatting and sending curious glances my way.

I should feel out of place, but I don’t.

I’m about to ask Mary the baby’s name when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I spin, and Jonas stands in front of me, his arm around what must be another sister. At least eight inches shorter than him, she has the same dark hair and eyes, plus a wide, angelic smile.

“Hadley, this is my younger sister, Emma.”

“Jonas says you're his friend. Are you in college?”

The moment she speaks, I realize Emma is a person with a disability. She stares at me, her eyes bright, and Jonas gazes between the two of us.

“I am in college,” I tell her with a smile. “I go to the same school as Jonas.”

“Harrison. So you’re a Griffin.” She beams at Jonas. “My brother plays hockey.”

“So does mine.”

“I like to go to his games and cheer as loud as I can. He bought me a sweatshirt for Christmas, and I wear it. It says Harrison Hockey on the front and has my last name on the back. Which is Jonas’s last name, too.”

“I bet it keeps you warm. Hockey arenas are cold.” Jonas, his posture stiff, watches me like this conversation is a test, and I desperately want to pass it. But I talk to Emma like I would anyone else. Is that the right call?

“I hate being cold,” she says, leaning closer like she’s confessing a secret. “I don’t know why Jonas likes hockey.”

We both look at him, and he shrugs. “It’s fun, I guess.”

“Emma,” his mom calls. “Do you want bread and butter or dill pickles tonight?”

“Bread and butter! You know I hate dill!” She makes a face and moves towards their mom, walking with a slight limp. It’s then I notice the bright, rainbow-colored brace on her left leg.

“It’s an inside joke.” Jonas speaks out of the side of his mouth. “Mom mixed the pickles up one time, and Emma has never let her forget it.”

Leaning against the deck railing, we both watch while Emma animatedly teases his mom about pickles. Mary throws her head back and laughs, bouncing the baby on her hip.

So different from my mom, Botoxed to the hilt and too worried about wrinkles to laugh.

“She suffered a traumatic brain injury when she was little.” Jonas stares at his sister, not me, as he speaks.

His voice is low but conversational. “We were climbing a tree in the front yard. She fell. It was… bad.” Such a small word to clearly encompass so much.

But he shrugs. “Thankfully, we’re all okay now. ”

“How old is she?”

“Emma is nineteen, but mentally, she’s pretty close to an eight-year-old.”

His tone stays even and neutral, like this is all no big deal. And I suppose, for him, it’s not. It’s normal. I want to wrap my arms around him in a hug. I settle for letting my shoulder brush his.

“Well, she’s a hoot,” I tell him, and it must be the right thing to say, because his full-wattage grin spreads across his face.

“She is. Spunky and hilarious, probably my favorite person in the world.”

I thought I knew Jonas as well as everybody, but seeing him like this, in front of his family, is different. He’s still the same, but it’s like I’ve put on glasses and the fuzzy edges come into focus. The picture is richer and deeper. It’s a privilege he let me into this group.

“Joe, did you date in high school?” I ask, changing the subject.

He angles his body to face me, blinking. “Yeah, why?”

“Because based on the way your family is acting, I’d think I’m the first girl you’ve ever brought home.”

He glances at his older sisters, grouped together still and shooting us looks, and groans. “Oh, no. They are coming over here. Now you’re in for it.”

“Me?” I put my hand on my chest. “Are you going to leave me to the wolves by myself?”

“Sink or swim, Hads. Sink or swim.” And with that, he winks, pushing off the deck railing with a devilish grin, and walks away.

After Jonas’s sisters—Katie, Alyssa, and Lindsay—finish interrogating me, his dad announces it’s time for dinner. Everyone troops into the house to fill plates, then heads back outside to sit wherever they can find spots.

I end up perched on the deck again next to Jonas. Our plates and drinks balance on the wood railing, and we watch the chaos in the yard.

“Your family is awesome,” I tell him as one of his nieces—Addison, maybe?—spills juice on her sister Chloe.

He raises a brow in my direction. “You think?”

Another niece starts to cry, but I nod my head. “Yeah. You know that movie Cheaper by the Dozen ?”

“Lindsay was obsessed with it.”

“Well, so was I. I always wanted a family like this.”

He huffs a laugh. “And I wanted to be an only child.”

I push his shoulder. “You didn’t.”

“Nah, you’re right, I didn’t. I loved being the only boy. I got to be the prince in every story.”

He smiles again, and my insides melt. His dad comes and stands beside him, still wearing his punny apron.

It’s like seeing Jonas thirty years in the future.

Same dark eyes, same build. The only difference is his dad’s laugh lines and hair.

Instead of being curly like Jonas’s, it’s close-cropped and gray at the temples.

To my surprise, he turns to me. “Hadley, I hear you’re from a hockey family.”

Oh. My dad. I try to keep my face neutral. “Yes, sir, I am.”

“Call me Grady, please.” He rocks on the balls of his feet and glances at Jonas. I can’t interpret the look they share. “Does that mean hockey is your favorite sport?”

“Um.” I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. I don’t really have a favorite sport, but I can tell that’s the wrong answer.

Thankfully, Jonas steps in. “What he’s trying to say is, do you like baseball?”

“I don’t hate it,” I say, trying to be diplomatic. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a game.”

“We’re gonna change that.” His dad smiles, transforming his gruff face, and claps Jonas on the shoulder. “I got tickets to the Cubs game on Sunday.”

“That’s awesome!” Jonas gives his dad a back-slapping hug, grinning. “Hadley, you’ll get the full Chicago experience. It’ll be so much fun.”

His dad rubs the back of his neck. “You can invite your friend Hunter and his girlfriend, if you want.”

Jonas gazes at me, his features a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

“Of course,” I say. Why wouldn’t I want to see my brother, who I came to visit? It doesn’t make sense for my stomach to drop and swoop with nerves. “Can’t wait.”