Calliope. In that beautiful indigo dress. With the butterflies sparkling against her skin.
“Dinner will be ready soon.” His mother came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. Helen Costas carried life as effortlessly as the wind carried a leaf. He wasn’t sure he admired or respected anyone more. Until recently. Guilt pinged strong and deep as he remembered the words he’d thrown so callously at Calliope. How he’d denigrated all that she was; all that she’d made of her life. And why? Because she dared to care about his sister? Boy, when he messed something up, he really went all in. What he wouldn’t give to take it back. “Is the chocolate okay?”
“It’s perfect, Mom. Have we arrived at the moment I’ve been dreading?”
“What moment would that be?” She took the seat Antony had abandoned.
“Lecture time. I’m waiting for you to tell me how much I screwed up. First with the business, then with Alethea.”
“Why would I lecture you on something that you have no control over, Xander?” She took hold of one of his hands and squeezed. “This family is more than an architectural firm. Your father knows that. Deep down. Whatever happens, we will be just fine. And as for your sister...” Helen inclined her head and sighed. “I will admit I don’t like the idea of her being out in California all alone, or her leaving school, but I can’t argue with her reasoning. This is her life. Worrying those few days that something had happened to her, that we might have lost her, made me realize there’s nothing more important in this world to me than my children’s happiness.” She caught his chin in her hand. “All of my children.”
He knew that prying look. He squirmed in his seat. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“I don’t think you are. But I think you could be.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Whatever Alethea’s told you—”
“She’s told me nothing,” Helen interrupted. “Well, nothing much. You told me. When you said Calliope’s name over the phone. I’ve never heard that tone in your voice before. That sense of wonder. I dare say it was almost—”
“Please don’t say magical. Just...don’t.”
“We want presents!” Ophelia charged into the room, her sisters right on her heels as they dropped into a semicircle around the base of the tree. The three of them together couldn’t have looked more different—Ophelia’s practical ponytail and classic-rock T-shirt, Dyna’s tailored slacks and expensive sophisticated bob, Alethea’s floaty, flirty blouse that accentuated the blue hues in her long, curly hair. It was a picture he wouldn’t soon forget.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Helen admonished as Antony’s wife, Marcy, joined them. “You can wait until then.”
“We want to open Xander’s presents. Alethea said he got them in Butterfly Harbor.” Dyna snatched the five gift bags he’d haphazardly chosen. “Come on, Mom. There’s one for you.” She shook one of the bags in the air.
“Not without the entire family. Kids? Antony? Bring your father! We’re opening some gifts!”
Xander gaped. Never in his entire life had his mother approved of opening presents early. “Did I come back to some alternate reality?”
“Maybe we’re just ready to make some changes around here,” Helen said. “A lot of changes.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all—oof. Geez, Jeremy. You’re heavier than a linebacker.” He hauled his three-year-old nephew into his lap after the kid launched himself at him. “What are you feeding him?”
Jeremy howled while his four-year-old sister, Iris, draped herself over Alethea’s back.
“Hang on, we’re coming.” Antony wheeled Cyril Costas into the room and settled him by the fireplace.
“Nice,” Cyril said with a slow nod. He looked at Xander, something akin to pride shining in his blue eyes. “Nice family.”
“The best,” Alethea boasted as she twisted her niece around to hug her against her chest. “All together?”
“Might as well, they’re all the same thing.” Xander suddenly wished he’d been more creative with his choices. But the looks on their faces as each of the women in his family unwrapped the silver butterfly bracelets was worth the excursion.