She looped her arm through his and walked inside. “Everyone! Everyone! Come here! Miles is home.”
As if someone had opened up the flood gates, about twenty people crowded into the foyer, each of them talking at once and nudging each other out of the way to give Miles hugs, handshakes, high fives and slaps on the back.
His three brothers, Christopher, Grant and Ben, were there. His oldest sister, Patricia, her husband and their four kids were in the mix and over in the corner, he spied his baby sister, Lucy, hanging back from the rambunctious group, studying the display screen on her phone like kids these days tended to do.
She looked up and flashed him a shy smile and gave him a little wave. Miles gave her a salute and she laughed and rolled her eyes.
That’s when he saw it. She wasn’t such a little kid anymore. She had to be what—he quickly did the math in his head—she had to be fifteen years old by now. He’d sent her birthday presents every year, mostly cards with money tucked inside, but he was floored by how the years had stacked up and flown by.
He also noticed that his father was not among the greeting committee. For an instant a thought burned inside him that maybe the old man had skipped out on the occasion. Then Miles took a deep breath, swallowing the bile burning his throat and forced himself not to jump to conclusions. That’s when he realized his mom was cooking something that smelled delicious. He breathed in again, this time letting go of the simmering anger and enjoying the familiar sights and scents of home.
As if reading his mind, his mom asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” he said. “Whatever you’re cooking smells like exactly what I’m hungry for.”
“Okay, everyone take a step back,” his mom ordered. “Give Miles some room to come inside the house.”
The family obeyed, except for a little girl who looked like a pre-teen, lingering in the foyer looking up at him expectantly.
“You’re not Zoe, are you?” he asked. She beamed up at him, nodding her head.
“Naah, you can’t be Zoe,” Miles teased. “Zoe was just a tiny little girl the last time I saw her. You’re a teenager.” A slight exaggeration, but something told him saying that would make her smile.
“I am Zoe and I’m ten,” she said. “Do you work in the movies?”
“I do.”
“Do you know Justin Bieber? Has he ever been in one of your movies?” Her hazel eyes shone as bright as the sun.
“I hate to disappoint you, but Justin Bieber has never been in one of my movies. I did see him once at an awards show in California.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O.
When she recovered, she asked, “If you ever put him in one of your movies, can I meet him?”
“You’ve got a deal,” Miles said. “If he’s ever in one of my movies, I will make sure your mom brings you out to California to meet him.”
“My mom’s your sister, right?” she asked as they made their way into the family room.
“That’s right,” he said.
“So you’re my uncle, right?”
“Yep, and that makes you my niece.”
“Cool!” she said and ran off to another part of the house, yelling to anyone who would listen that she was going to meet Justin Bieber someday soon.
As Miles made his way into the living area, he glanced in the open door of the office, which was located between the family room and kitchen. There he glimpsed his father at the desk concentrating hard over notes he was making on a yellow legal pad. Miles hesitated, wondering if he should go in and say hello, but mostly hoping his father would look up, see him standing there, and break this insidious wall of ice that had stood between them since they’d last exchanged words.
Before Miles could say anything, his brother Ben came up to him, clapping him on the back. “Hey, Mr. Hollywood, it’s about time you came home. Come over here, I want to introduce you to my fiancée.”
What? With one last glance at his father, who was still presumably caught up in his work, as if nothing were going on outside of the ordinary day-to-day grind, Miles followed his brother into the kitchen where a pretty blonde was talking to his mom and making a salad.
“You’re getting married?” he asked.
“We are,” Ben said. “Miles, this is Jeanie, my future wife.”
The blonde beamed as she wiped her hands on a dish towel, held up her left hand to show off the modest diamond on her ring finger, and then enfolded Miles in a hug.
“Congratulations,” Miles said, suddenly realizing that life in Celebration had indeed been speeding on without him. Not that he expected things to come to a screeching halt, but having been away for five years, the differences were more pronounced—children were growing up, his younger siblings were getting married and making lives of their own.
“When did this happen?” he asked.
“Two weeks ago,” said Jeanie.
“Have you set a date?” Miles asked.
“Not yet,” said Ben. “We wanted to talk to you to see when you thought you might be available. You’re going to be my best man, right?”
“O-of course,” Miles stammered. “You just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
One of the other nieces, Ivy, came and got Jeanie to turn one of the jump-rope handles in a tournament she and the other kids were having on the porch.
“Well, sweetie, I’m helping your grandma get dinner on the table,” she said.
“Oh, no, you go on and play with the kids. I’ll finish up here,” Deena said.
Jeanie thanked Deena and flashed Miles an apologetic smile. “I’m going to play with them, but we will talk more about the wedding later, okay?”
“Of course,” Miles said as his brother’s fiancée, allowed the little girl to lead her away. Fiancée. The reality that his little brother was engaged blew him away. He couldn’t quite get his mind wrapped around it.
“We just love Jeanie,” his mom said. “We would love it if you would settle down, too. No pressure, though.”
For some reason Sydney James’s face flashed through Miles’s mind—the way she looked last night in the dim light of Murphy’s as she sipped her wine and spilled her secret about the job interview with that accent that made him more than just a little hot and restless. He intended to keep her secret, but he also intended to entice her to stay. She was exactly what Catering to Dallas needed and somehow he would convince her that she needed them just as much.
“Are you staying for game night, Uncle Miles?” asked his sister’s oldest daughter, Sally. “We usually have game night on Saturday night, but it’s a special occasion since you’re here and Grandma said
