“Dad,” I breathe, racing from my mom over to the middle of the room. With the same ecstatic energy, I throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight.
“Whoa, someone’s been hitting the eggnog a bit early,” Dad laughs, patting me on the shoulder.
“That’s what I said,” Mom says, chuckling softly. “And have you tried looking in the closet?”
“The closet? Now, why would I look in there?” Dad says, his hand now resting on my shoulder as he turns to face Mom.
I exhale softly, trying to separate myself from my past memories and whatever this new present brings. Neither one of them seem aware of the momentous moment happening right now, anyway…and I’m not sure how long I’ll remember it either.
Mom’s here… Dad’s alive.
I can’t imagine a better outcome than that. Yet, something tugs at the back of my mind, and I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is. It’s on the edge of my memories, yet the more I try to focus on what it could be, the further away it slips.
The doorbell rings and Dad removes his hand from my shoulder, turning to the entryway. “Duty calls,” he says, exiting the room.
“Do not use that as an excuse to forget your tie,” Mom calls after him. “That man will do anything to get out of wearing a tie, I swear to god.” Her words say one thing, but there’s a twinkle in her eye as she walks past me and into the entryway.
Shaking away the overwhelming emotions fighting inside me, I take a deep breath and float my gaze around the room, trying to take every detail of this new reality in. The lavish Christmas decorations are something I’ve only seen in magazines, but they suit this room—and the manor as a whole. The white LED Christmas lights twinkle softly from just about every corner of the room, but it’s the painting above the fireplace that draws my attention, now that I’m standing back.
The memories of it clash together and merge with the now. As I parse it out, I realize it’s the same painting I had found in one of the abandoned rooms…
At the time, it was only of my mother—and only half done. But now, it’s a finished piece and a painting of the three of us—Mom, Dad, and me.
My heart swells as I stand there, staring at it.
“There you are,” Cat says in my ear as she wraps her arms around my shoulders from behind. “What are you doing in here? Ohhh, eggnog.” She drops my shoulders and makes her way over to the bowl. She’s dressed in a beautiful red and cream pantsuit, and it looks absolutely striking on her as she turns around with a full cup. Smiling at me, she raises the glass. “Cheers.”
“Did I hear someone say eggnog?” Dominic says, walking into the room. He tips his head my direction, but heads straight to Cat.
“Dominic,” I say, unable to stop myself from staring. His hair is a soft brown rather than the striking white-blond from my memories.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he laughs, accepting a glass from Cat.
“Behave yourself, Dominic,” a woman says sternly from the entryway. I turn around to see Dominic’s mother, narrowing her gaze at him. “Too much alcohol isn’t good for you.”
I shudder away the memory as it leaves my mind, replaced by this different version of her.
She jabs her index finger in his direction and he sets the drink back down on the table, grinning at her. Appeased, she stalks out of the room, following my mom in the direction of the kitchen.
As soon as she’s gone, Dominic picks up his glass, clinking it together with Cat’s.
Everyone is so different… I turn back to the doorway, craning to see who else might be in the entryway.
“Where’s Colton?” I ask.
“He’ll be here any minute. He wanted to stop at the store to pick up some pie as a thank-you gift. Very creative, right?” Cat says, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was probably going to be closed.”
I snicker to myself, but smile.
“Come on, everyone. It’s time to eat,” Mom says, popping her head into the room.
“I’m starving,” Dominic says, downing the rest of his glass and setting it on the drinks table. “Your mom makes the best turkey, Autumn.”
Together, the three of us make our way to the dining room. Mrs. Gilbert is already seated at the table and she’s leaning over, talking animatedly with Dominic’s mother. Beside Mrs. Gilbert, a man who looks like an older carbon copy of Colton sits with his arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. While I had never met him before, I know instantly this is the twins’ father.
“Sorry we’re late, guys,” Colton says, his voice carrying from the entryway.
“We?” I say, twisting around.
Beside him, Diana Hawthorn and the man named Blake are removing their coats, along with two other men. One is a little older than my friends and me, but only just. His shaggy brown hair covers part of his eyes as he flicks his head to see the rest of the room. When our eyes meet, he grins and waves.
Instinctively, I wave back, but I’m not certain if I know him or not.
The other man is flamboyantly dressed in a bright green and red suit. His hair is meticulously groomed, and I can tell instantly he’s going to be a character.
Colton notices me and steps out in front. “Oh, hey, Autumn. Have you met Renaldo and Aiden?”
I shake my head, unsure what to say.
“Aiden is Blake’s son, well, adopted son,” Colton says, pointing to the shaggy man. “And this is Renaldo.” He points to the man in the loud suit.
“Please, call me Ren,” Renaldo says, stepping past Colton with a flourish and extending his hand.
I walk into the room and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Man, the snow’s really coming down,” Aiden says, stepping up to also
