I nodded. “I know. I’m too hard on them. I need to remember how hard they’re always willing to work for others.”
His eyes met mine, a smile dancing around his mouth. “That’s not really what I meant. I want you to remember how much they all love you. I mean…look at this, Lizzie. This is all for you.”
“For us,” I amended, and he shook his head slightly.
“The fact that it’s for us only proves my point. They’re letting you know that “us” is okay. They wouldn’t all be here, working this hard, if they hadn’t accepted your decision to be with me.”
I snuggled into him, knowing that he had a point. This party was definitely their way of showing me that my engagement had their blessing, particularly for my dad and Maria, who’d had such a hard time with my leaving home and were now working so hard to make the party special for me.
We stood like that for a moment, a bubble of calm in the midst of so much chaos, before Thomas shook himself slightly. “We should be helping.”
We both visibly braced ourselves as we approached Maria, asking what we should be doing.
To my great surprise, she shook her head firmly. “Go home. Get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“You don’t actually think we’re going to leave you guys to all of this—” I started, but she merely crossed her arms, the scary Maria face firmly in place.
“No way. This is your party. We’ve got it.”
I looked around the kitchen, at the half finished work, and wondered how on earth they would ever get it done. But Maria was already pushing us toward the door. “You need to be up early to get to the airport for the Harpers,” she reminded me. “And there’s no way I’m going to let you ruin this party by yawning your way through the entire thing.” At the front door she stopped pushing and winked at me. “All my hard work would go to waste.”
I was filled with a sudden surge of affection for my bossy big sister. I threw my arms around her shoulders and squeezed, tight, realizing that Thomas was right. This wasn’t just about them putting on the game face for family and friends. They really were doing this for me, because they loved me. And maybe even because they accepted Thomas.
Maria indulged my hug for a moment before pushing me away. “Go on now,” she said, her voice commanding—but she smiled at us both, even reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss Thomas on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
As we drove away, I couldn’t help but doubt her ability to pull it off. The house was a mess, the food unfinished, half the chairs still missing, two of the tents refusing to take shape. How could they manage it all in only a few short hours?
Apparently I forgot whom I was dealing with. By the time Thomas and I arrived at our engagement party the next afternoon, the house had been transformed.
“Look at all the lights!” Bryony, Thomas’s younger sister, squealed from the back seat of my SUV, pressing her fingers to the glass of the window. “And all the colors!”
I felt a lump come to my throat as I looked at my parents’ house. They had strung lights and paper lanterns all over the front porch and along the drive and walk ways. Potted plants had been brought in, probably from the back yards of various relatives, to add to the festive vibe. There were also balloons and streamers everywhere, tied up to every possible surface, including the porch railings and the oak tree in the front yard. There were already dozens of people making their way up the driveway and milling about the front yard. Behind the house, I could just make out the billowing white tents.
To some, it may have seemed overkill. Gaudy, even, with all the colors and cheap decorations. But all I could see was the love that went into it.
“You okay?” Thomas asked, squeezing my hand. I got the sense that he knew exactly what I was feeling. When I merely shook my head, unable to speak, he chuckled, opening his car door. “Come on, weepy. Let’s go to our party.”
“This is brilliant, Lizzie,” Bryony said, climbing out of the back seat to join us on the pavement. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet your family.” She stopped suddenly, grabbing my free hand. “Who is that?”
I squinted in the direction she was looking. “That’s my cousin, Juan,” I told her, waving to him.
“He’s gorgeous. Oh, I just love Latin men. Would it be weird if I tried to get off with one of your relatives? I mean, we’re not technically related—”
“Bryony,” Thomas said, a warning note in his voice.
She winked at me and I laughed. “I would just be careful of using that phrase here,” I told her. “I’m not sure it translates that well to American.”
“What are we waiting for?” she asked, closing her eyes. “God, it smells good. I’m starving!”
“We’re waiting for Mum and Dad,” Thomas said, and I stifled a laugh at the sound of his voice. He’d only been in the presence of his little sister for a few hours, and he was already losing his patience with her. He sounded just like my older brothers when they talked to me.
“They were right behind us,” I reminded Bryony. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
We had picked up Mr. And Mrs. Harper, along with Bryony, earlier in the day, meeting my parents for a quick breakfast before taking the Harpers back to our place to rest before the party. I’d felt a little bad, expecting them to socialize with my parents so early after a long flight, but, as Thomas pointed out, it was kinder than expecting them to have their first face-to-face meeting with my folks when they were also meeting the dozens of extended family members that would be at the party tonight. After their rest, Mr. Harper had insisted on driving himself and his wife to the party. Apparently he had been reading up on driving in the States and was eager to practice driving on the wrong side of the road. In retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to let him give it a go…
“Dad is probably pulled off to the side of the road right now, having a panic attack,” Bryony said, rolling her eyes. I met Thomas’s gaze, and it was clear that he agreed with his sister, whether he would admit it or not. Luckily, Thomas’s father chose that moment to pull up behind us in Thomas’s SUV. Through the windshield, I could see his wife, Anne, yelling and gesturing wildly with her hands, while Gilbert looked sheepish—and more than a little proud of himself. I stifled a giggle as they climbed out of the car.
“You made it,” Bryony said, sighing loudly. “We’ve only been standing out here forever.”
“How was the drive, Anne?” I asked, watching as she visibly rearranged her features into a more calm expression.
“It’s best not to talk of it, dear,” she said, patting my arm. She looked up at the house, a smile breaking out over her face. “Well, look at that!”
I felt a sudden fluttering of nerves. I so badly wanted tonight to go well. The initial meeting of the parents over breakfast had been fine, if slightly awkward and formal. But tonight was a much bigger deal. I knew firsthand how quickly my family could become overwhelming, and I hated thinking of Mr. and Mrs. Harper feeling uncomfortable. Even more, though it made me feel guilty to admit it, I hated thinking of them possibly judging my family. Though Thomas’s parents were far from the cold and restrained British stereotype I had initially feared, there was a good chance they might not have any idea what they were getting themselves into with my clan.
“This looks wonderful,” Gilbert said jovially, patting my back. “Shall we go back and mingle?”
I steeled myself, trying to remember that the Harpers were warm and kind and would not, in all likelihood, run screaming in fear from such a crowd. “Sure,” I said, hoping my voice sounded as light and casual as I intended. Thomas squeezed my hand again, making me think that perhaps I hadn’t quite pulled it off.
“You’re going to go crazy for the food,” he told his parents, leading the way down the sidewalk to the house. “Lizzie’s aunts and sisters are magicians in the kitchen.”
“I hope you like Mexican food,” I said, laughing a little self-deprecatingly. “I doubt there will be much else on the menu.”<
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“Mexican food sounds wonderful,” Anne said, and I immediately felt ashamed of myself. Was I really already putting myself and my family down, without even giving the Harpers the chance to make up their own minds? I straightened my shoulders, determined to stop apologizing for my family.
Still, I didn’t manage to relax until we reached the back yard and my parents immediately came to embrace the Harpers, including Bryony, kissing Thomas and me briefly before sweeping his family off to meet my siblings and aunts and uncles.
“See?” Thomas whispered in my ear. “Everything is fine.”
“Lizzie?” A familiar voice called, and I squealed a little, turning to see Callie dodging tables to make her way to us, a huge smile on her face.
“Callie!” I’d known she was coming; she and Charlie had been two of the first people to respond to our invitation, but it was still a thrill to see her. She hadn’t been able to make it home after my mom’s aneurysm, and it felt like years since I had seen her back in London, before Thomas and I went to L.A.
“You cut your hair!” I yelled, grabbing her shoulders and making her spin before I hugged her.
“Do you like it?” she asked, squeezing me back.
“I love it.” I pulled away to examine her hair again. For as long as I’ve known her Callie, has kept her thick blonde hair in a shining, long curtain down her back. Her new cut was layered and shoulder length, her highlights much darker than I was used to.
She sighed a little. “I don’t think Charlie likes it much.”
Her boyfriend sighed coming up behind her. “Don’t listen to a word she says. I’m the one who suggested it.”
“Yeah, right,” I laughed. “That sounds like Charlie, hair style expert.”
“Are you going to hug me hello, or not?” he asked, his voice heavy with offense. I giggled again, reaching for him, and he pulled me up into his arms. “Congratulations, love. He couldn’t have done any better.”
Touched, I patted his face. “Thanks, Charlie.”
He released me to hug his best friend, and I returned my attention to Callie, who pulled my left hand up close to her face to inspect my new jewelry. She whistled. “Not bad, Thomas. It’s even better than the picture you sent.”
“It’s the most gorgeous ring in the whole world,” I said loyally.
“Holy crap,” Callie said suddenly, releasing my hand and staring up into my face, her eyes wide. “You’re getting married.”
I laugh. “I know.”
“We haven’t even had a chance to squeal and jump and down,” she said sadly, and Thomas snorted next to me.
“Whatever, Cal. I heard you through the phone when she called you with the news. If that wasn’t squealing, then I don’t know what is.”
“Shut up,” she said, pushing him. “You’re a boy; you don’t understand.” Then she turned back to me, taking both my hands, a huge grin on her face. “Lizzie, you’re engaged!”
“I totally am!”
Of course, she started to jump up and down, probably just to spite Thomas; but soon, we were both caught up in the moment, laughing and hugging and squealing. We only stopped when Charlie joined us, doing a scarily good impression of a shrieking, excited girl.
“Be dignified, brother,” a familiar voice said, and Charlie’s sister, Sarra, joined us, along with Meghan and Carter. I felt like squealing all over again at the sight of them, our London family here at my home in Detroit. Luckily, Meghan was every bit as much of a believer in the importance of jumping up and down and screaming to celebrate an engagement. She joined Callie and me in admiring the ring, and we all giggled and yelled and hugged each other. Even Sarra grinned as she pulled me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Lizzie. He doesn’t deserve you.”
I couldn’t help but remember my first meeting with her, the way she had basically warned me I better not hurt Thomas and effectively scared the crap out of me. Grinning at the way things had turned out, I reached for Thomas’s hand. “No way.”
“Thanks, Sar,” he said dryly, but he accepted her hug before he moved to shake Carter’s hand.
“Congratulations, mate,” Carter said, slapping Thomas on the back and leaning in to kiss my cheek. “You, too, Lizzie.”
“Congratulations are for the groom,” Sarra corrected. “Best wishes for the bride.”
The bride. I couldn’t help the little shiver of excitement that coursed through me at the word. I was going to be Thomas’s bride.
It was strange—the way the realization hit me all over again. I’d been insanely happy since Thomas popped the question, but there was always a bit of me that was holding back, afraid of getting too excited. Things had been just too shaky with my mom, and all of my focus had been on helping her with her recovery. Now that she was getting better, though, we could really start to plan for this wedding. It was going to happen, for real. Thomas and I were going to get married.
I smiled around at my gathered friends and family as twilight started to set in. Bryony was eating with my cousin Juan, batting her eyelashes in a way I was sure would make Thomas shake his head in annoyance. Gilbert could be heard arguing with my dad and Uncle Rick about some World Cup soccer game that had occurred decades ago. Sofie was chatting with the London friends, introducing them to Laura and Maria. And then Carla, Sofie’s older sister and total celebrity enthusiast, was grabbing my arm and demanding to know if that really was Jenner Collins and Annie Duncan in my parents’ back yard.
I laughed at her star-struck expression. “Yup. And if you’re a very sweet cousin, I might just introduce you later.”
She immediately kissed my cheek, patting my hair. “Lizzie, have I ever told you that I love your hair up like this? And where did you get that dress? It’s so flattering on you.”
I pointed at her, grinning. “Good start.” Then I reached for Thomas’s shirtsleeve to alert him that his work colleagues had arrived. It wasn’t just Carla that had noticed—the movie stars were causing quite a stir with several of my cousins. “We should go rescue them,” I whispered. “Before people start begging for autographs.”
Jenner Collins and Annie Duncan were local actors who had gone on to star in movies. Jenner has been a major star for more than a decade, but Annie, much like Thomas, was still relatively new to the business, though her reception from critics and fans alike had been overwhelmingly good. She was still green enough that she wasn’t jaded—she was quite open about feeling weirded out by the stranger aspects of being a movie star. She was a great help to both Thomas and me when they shot the sci-fi flick Earth’s End together in Los Angeles a few months ago. And when Thomas decided to turn down his next movie role to stay here with me while I took care of my mom, Annie and Jenner immediately stepped up, offering him a role in their local production of Death of a Salesman at Jenner’s theater.
“You made it,” Thomas said as we approached the actors.
“Of course we did,” Jenner said, shaking Thomas’s hand.
Annie hugged us both. “Holy crap, Lizzie, the food at this party is incredible.”
I laughed. “My family is pretty serious about food.”
“Sounds like my kind of group.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Thomas asked, but Annie made shooing motions with her hands. “We’re fine. Go mingle, this is your party.”
Warily, I eyed one of my younger cousins, who seemed to be inching closer with an overly casual look on her face.
“I’m afraid members of my family might mob you if we leave you alone,” I told them.
Annie just laughed. “I think Jenner is probably an old pro at this kind of thing by now.”
“They never mob me,” Thomas said, almost sounding offended. “Not one of them has ever asked for my autograph.”
“I guess they don’t really see you as a celebrity. You’re just Thomas,” I told him, laughing at the indignant look on his face.
More people had arrived, so we grudgingly left them to their fate of autograph signing and headed off
to greet our guests, who arrived in a steady stream for the next half hour or so as darkness settled over the back yard.
“I can’t believe all these people can fit in your parents’ garden,” Thomas told me, shaking his head as we looked out over the scene.
I sighed, content, snuggling into his side. “We always manage to make room for a party.”
I felt happier than I had in months. There had been a weight of worry on my chest for so long now. First over my decision to leave home for London in the first place, then over my family’s reaction to my decision to return and live with Thomas. Then there was all the stress of living in L.A. last year, all the pressure Thomas was under. And my mom’s aneurysm and subsequent recovery. Sometimes it felt like I’d done nothing but worry for the past year and a half. But now those worries felt like they were lifting off my chest, dissipating in the warm breeze that skittered through the back yard. My people were here—all of them. My friends from London. Thomas’s family. My family. Callie. Just about everyone that I loved, all of them here for Thomas and me. And the struggles of the past year had resolved themselves, for the most part. I felt almost giddy as I surveyed our party, Thomas at my side.
Eventually, a few of my cousins pulled out their guitars, congas, and a microphone, attaching it to the small sound system set up in the corner of the yard. It didn’t take the guests long to get into the spirit—the salsa music had half my family up and dancing within minutes.
“Come on,” I said, tugging on Thomas’s hand. “We’re dancing.”
“I don’t think I know how to dance like this,” he said uncertainly, stealing a glance at Maria and her husband José, who were twirling around the patio like a pair of professional ballroom dancers. I smiled, loving when Maria let her hair down like this. She looked younger when she was dancing, as if all the stress of work, mothering, and being in charge of everyone simply melted away. She’d always been the best dancer in our family, and no matter how busy her grown up life was, she always made sure to get a few songs in whenever we had a family party.
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