Winter Wonderland

twenty-four: big news

When it comes to my family, though, she's almost always right. They're pretty predictable.

Half an hour later, we pull up behind my mom's car. Dad's home too. He's been making more of an effort, the last couple of years, to be more present. He's not old by any stretch of the imagination, not yet fifty, but I think he's starting to realize that he can always make more money – not that he needs to – but his kids won't be kids forever, and my sisters are still young enough for him to make the most of their childhood.

"Ready?" I ask again when I get out of the car and take Storie's hand once more.

"Doesn't matter how ready we are." Storie cups her ear, leaning towards the house. "I think I hear the dulcet screeches of your sisters already. They've smelled our arrival."

I laugh, but a moment later the front door is flung open and Daria tears out of the house like a little tornado, her blonde hair flying behind her. Anna follows behind, a little less rabidly, and Mom brings up the rear, standing on the doorstep.

"Hey, Dar," I say, letting out a grunt when she barrels into me for a hug, but I don't get much of her attention. She prefers my fiancée to me. I don't blame her. Storie's a much better person than me, and she gives the most amazing hugs. Anna sidles up to me though and wraps her arms around me, and I pick her up and swing her around. "Hi, Anna banana."

"Hi, Lee-lee," she says quietly. I thought Anna might end up even wilder than Daria, trying to outshine her big sister, but she hasn't. Not yet, anyway. There's time. I carry her back to the house, where I set her down so I can hug Mom.

"Liam," she says, holding me tight. "How are you both? How was your trip? I want to hear everything. Come in, come in. It's after five, isn't it? Let's have a drink."

Storie's right.

The first forty-five minutes that we're here, at least, are spent recounting the trip we took last month. I went to sit on the same sofa as Storie but Daria and Anna beat me to it, claiming her for themselves, so I'm sharing with Mom. Dad appears from his office halfway through and sits on the arm of the sofa, a finger in the knot of his tie as he pulls it loose, his arm around Mom's shoulders.

"It sounds like you two had a wonderful trip," he says when there's a gap in the storytelling, and he gets up to greet us properly. He bends down to hug Storie and I stand. "It's good to see you both." He steps back after hugging me and after a quick appraisal, he says, "You look well, Liam."

Four simple words that mean so much. I still get a rush of joy every time he calls me Liam, after he finally caught on that no-one ever calls me William, that name reserved for my passport and my birth certificate.

"So, you got back from your trip when, two weeks ago?" he asks. I glance at Storie. So far she was bang on the money.

"Yeah, we did."

"Two weeks ago!" Daria interjects, with a cry of indignation. "Why didn't you come straight home, Willy? It's not fair, you get to see Storie all the time, we wanna see her too."

"Sorry, Daria," Storie says. "It's not Willy's – uh, Liam's – fault. We wanted to come straight here but we had to work." She pulls a face, though she loves her job. "We came as soon as we could. We knew you'd want to hear everything."

"Been up to anything nice since you got back?" Mom asks.

Storie and I share a look, silently deciding which one of us breaks the news. We come to a wordless agreement. I shift sideways on the sofa to face both my parents, with my sisters and my fiancée in my peripheral vision.

"Yeah, actually," I say, and I can't stop the huge smile that takes over my face when I get to say, "We got engaged."

Mom gasps so loud it's a wonder there's any air left in the room. Both her hands fly to her mouth. Behind her, Dad gives me a small but very real smile. The kind of smile that says good job, son. The kind of smile that warms me from the inside out.