admonished. “Y’all are bringing her into some bad habits, laughing when she does something wrong. She thinks she’s being cute.”
Matthew laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Marah. When Luke was her age he used to tell lies, too.”
“I did not!” Luke chimed in as he reached for another slice of bacon.
“Yes, you did,” Mark said teasingly. “And John used to wear your behind out! Gabi better straighten up!”
John shook his head, his attention still focused on the bundle of energy in his lap. “We don’t kick people, Gabi, and we don’t ever tell Daddy lies. You always tell Mommy and Daddy the truth, do you understand?”
Gabrielle blew a deep sigh as she dropped her head against John’s broad chest.
“Now tell Collin you’re sorry,” her father scolded, “and if you kick your cousin again Daddy’s going to give you spanks.”
The little girl pouted as she tossed her cousin a look. “Gabi sorry, Collin,” she muttered softly. She turned her attention back to her father. “Gabi wanna go pane ride. Go pane ride, Dada?” she questioned, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.
John’s gaze reached out to each of his family members. There was a moment of pause before he finally answered. “Yes, baby girl. We’re all going to do just that.” He gave her a tight squeeze before she jumped out of his arms.
She scurried to Marah’s side, her arms outstretched. Marah lifted the little girl onto her lap. “Go pane, Mommy! Dada said we go pane!”
Marah laughed. “We’re going to eat breakfast first, munchkin! Then we’re going on a plane ride so you can meet your new cousins.”
Vanessa laughed. “More Stallions! Lord, have mercy!” she exclaimed as everyone around the table laughed with her.
Tinjin Braddy navigated his way through John F. Kennedy Airport with his carry-on bag over his shoulder and his cell phone in his hand. As he stood in front of the flight display monitors, frustration painted his expression. The arrival and departure board looked like a grade school chalkboard gone awry. The word Canceled appeared over and over again, much like a punished student’s white chalk repetitions. He shook his head as he put his cell phone to his ear and called his personal assistant.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Braddy?” the young woman answered, anticipation ringing in her tone.
Tinjin sighed into the receiver. “I’m stuck in New York, Raina. There’s nothing coming or going for at least another eight hours.”
“Oh, my,” Raina muttered. “Would you like me to arrange for a hotel, Mr. Braddy? Something close to the airport?”
“No. I’ve already tried. Everything is booked solid. A major snowstorm has literally shut down the eastern seaboard.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything I can do?”
Tinjin blew another sigh. “I’ve been trying to call my sister but she’s not answering and my cell phone battery is about to die. Would you please keep calling until you reach her, explain my situation and tell her I’ll get to Salt Lake City as soon as I’m able? When I can find someplace to charge my phone I’ll call her but it’s a madhouse here right now.”
“No problem, Mr. Braddy. And I’ll stay close to the phone in case you need me.”
Tinjin smiled. “Thanks, Raina,” he said, then he disconnected the line. Taking a deep breath he looked to his left and then to his right. People were crowded together, everyone at their wit’s end as they tried to figure out what to do and where to go. Babies were crying, mothers were pacing, fathers were cussing and not one soul seemed happy to be where they were.
His British Airways flight from London had landed an hour ago, the plane’s tires hitting the icy tarmac just minutes before all flights were diverted to other locations. The wintry nor’easter was predicted to leave some twenty-plus inches of snow in the New York area, and with half of that already on the ground no plane was scheduled to depart until further notice.
Not how he’d anticipated starting his weeklong holiday. Tinjin was suddenly wishing he’d gone to Bermuda as he’d initially planned instead of agreeing to join his sister and her family in Salt Lake City, Utah. But his baby sister, Tierra, always had a way of wrangling him to do what she wanted and her appeals for him to spend time with his toddler nephew and the new baby had been hard to resist. He loved his family and since relocating to London had missed them terribly. Despite the inconvenience he looked forward to spending some quality time with the people he loved most.
Pausing in reflection, Tinjin considered his options. With a plan in motion he headed in the direction of the terminal train and pushed his way on board. He needed to get himself from terminal seven to terminal eight. Once that was accomplished he figured he could find a fairly quiet corner to wait out the storm.
* * *
Natalie made her way to the mezzanine level at JFK’s terminal eight. In the reception area of American Airlines’ Admiral’s Club she presented her membership card to gain admittance. Inside, the few gathered were nowhere near as frenzied as the masses in the holding pattern by the gates, and the level of noise dropped substantially. The catchphrase Membership Has Its Privileges rang through her mind. She heaved a deep sigh of relief as she maneuvered her way to a quiet corner by one of the only windows in the room and dropped down to the cushioned seat. Kicking off her six-inch heels she sighed in relief, twisting her ankles in small circles.
She was past the point of being annoyed. Totally exhausted, she found herself wishing that she had just stayed in London. But her brother Noah had been adamant about her returning to the family fold long enough to honor her recently deceased mother. Tears suddenly welled in her eyes and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. She took a quick glance around the room and when she was certain that no one was paying her an ounce of attention she fell back into her thoughts.
Natalie had been seventeen years old when she’d left home, leaving everything she knew and trusted behind. She was desperate for a new beginning, hopeful that destiny would lead her where fate intended her to land. Life in Utah had not been easy and Natalie had wanted much more than the abject poverty that had been her childhood existence.
The family had been dirt poor, her single mother raising five children on a housekeeper’s minimum-wage salary. The Stallion siblings had known little of their father, and bitterness rang in their mother’s tone whenever one or the other ventured to question her about the man. Only Noah, barely sixteen years old at the time, had been bold enough to seek him out, begging for a shred of help for their family. When he was met with bitter rejection and their mother’s wrath, it had kept the rest of them from ever considering the idea again.
What Natalie did know about her family was that her mother, Norris-Jean, had come from her own humble beginnings. She had been a teenager herself, pregnant with her eldest son, when she’d followed their father, a traveling minister, to Utah, trusting the promises he’d made to her. Those promises had been broken when Norris-Jean discovered the man of her dreams had a wife and another family who were more important to him.
After Noah was born, a second string of promises, which had never materialized, led to
