“So there are five of them?” Zoe asked, as Van lifted the old brass knocker on the Hartson’s front door. “Wow. I can’t imagine having five brothers and sisters.”
“It was always chaos at their house,” Van admitted, biting down a smile. Memories of sitting at the Hartson’s oversized dining table washed through her. Aunt Gina always managed to make sure there was enough food no matter how many of them were sitting around there. Often Gray would bring his girlfriend, and Logan and Cam would have two or three friends with them, along with Becca and their dad. It had been such a contrast to the meals Van would eat at home, which were usually a piece of toast and whatever canned goods she could manage to get open, while her mom was who knew where.
The Hartsons’ house had been her sanctuary growing up. She’d been envious of Tanner’s family, and overjoyed that they’d treated her like one of their own. She’d genuinely fallen for them all. Gray and his singing. Logan and his cooking. Even Cam’s obsession with football, which meant every Monday night was spent with the game blasting out from the television in the den.
“Hey!” Becca shouted from the side of the house. “What’s with you knocking on the front door? You always used to come around the back.”
Van let the knocker fall back into place. She felt Zoe nestle a little closer to her. “I didn’t want to presume,” she told Becca.
“Gah, you’re one of the family. Come on ’round.” Becca grinned at Zoe. “Hey, kiddo. Anybody told you that you look just like Van did when she was younger?”
Zoe blushed. “I do?” she asked with wide eyes. She looked at Van as though she couldn’t quite see it.
“Yep,” Becca said, as they made their way to the side of the house. “She had that whole angelic thing going, too. Though she was really naughty. Did she tell you about the time she spiked the communion wine at church?”
“That one wasn’t me,” Van protested. “It was Gray.”
“What was me?”
“Is that Gray Hartson?” Zoe whispered, her hand sliding into Van’s.
Van nodded. “Yeah.” There he was. The boy she used to know standing six feet three inches tall, his arms covered in tattoos, his hair artfully disheveled. And he was grinning at her, his handsome face lighting up as he caught her gaze.
Gray walked over to them, leaning forward to hug Van tightly. “Maddie told me you were back in town. You should’ve come to see me.” He stepped back and smiled at Zoe. “And you must be Van’s sister.” He held out his hand and
Zoe took it, swallowing hard. Van tried not to laugh at the awe on Zoe’s face.
“Hi,” she squeaked out.
“You guys want a drink?” Becca asked. “Aunt Gina made iced tea.”
“I’d love one.” Van glanced down at Zoe who nodded, still star struck.
The next few minutes were taken up with hugs and greetings. Though Cam and Logan weren’t there, the garden still felt full. Maddie’s mom was there, and Becca’s friend, Laura, and her family. “We decided to eat outside since it’s so nice,” Becca told her, nodding at the table set up on the freshly cut lawn.
“Where’s Tanner?” Van asked, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. When Becca shot her a questioning look, she lifted her iced tea to her lips to hide the way she couldn’t help but grin.
“He sassed Aunt Gina so she made him go to the store to pick up marshmallows.” Becca wiggled her eyebrows. “We’re having ’smores for dessert.”
“’Smores?” Zoe asked tipping her head. “What are those?”
Becca shook her head. “Kid, you’ve got a lot of learning to do.” She pointed at Van. “This sister of yours isn’t doing her job if you don’t know what ’smores are.” She hunkered down until her face was level with Zoe’s. “’Smores are like the best thing you’ll ever taste. Like eating heaven and hell all mixed in one. And the cool thing is you get to make them yourself. With a stick, over fire.”
Zoe shot Van a look over her shoulder. Van grinned and nodded. “Yep. They’re pretty good.”
“Somebody get me a beer,” Tanner called out, rounding the corner with overstuffed brown bags in his arms. “I just got goosed by Lucy Sanders in the grocery store.”
Becca coughed out a laugh.
He put the bags on the table next to the grill. When he turned back, his eyes met Van’s and his grin widened. “You came.”
Becca slid a cold beer into his hand. “Of course she did. We have ‘smores.”
“Thanks to me.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m going to be traumatized for the rest of my life just because you wanted marshmallows.”
“Shut up.” Becca shook her head. “We all know you have a thing for the older ladies.”
Van bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh. There was such a feeling of warmth in the backyard that had nothing to do with the evening sun or the burning grill. Spending time with the Hartsons had always felt like pulling the warmest, coziest blanket over herself.