White Lies

The Seven Part One

Coral's blue eyes turn into huge saucers and her grin widens from ear to ear. "Oh my god! Look at your cute belly!" She stretches her hands out to pat the belly but she stops inches away from it and asks, "May I?"

Blanche presses her lips together, smiles and nods.

"Aw!" Coral coos, and bends down to her knees. "Hello in there! It's me, Auntie Coral, the best auntie in the world."

"Be gentle, Squirt. That's my precious girl in there," Hunter warns his little sister.

"Let me see. Let me see," a petite elderly woman, with striking facial features similar to Coral and long silver hair pulled at the nape of her neck, comes ambling towards the three of them, guided by a much taller man with salt and pepper hair. They stop in front of Hunter, who has his head bowed, and the woman gives his right cheek a couple of soft pats. "Ah! You've finally returned. You look well."

Hunter leans in to wrap her in his arms and presses his lips on top of the woman's head. "Hi, Mom."

Blanche almost feels like she's intruding in this special moment between a mother and son reunion. Tears prickle behind her eyes. Hunter hasn't been home for years. She's delighted that she's able to come with him and witness the warm welcome from his mother. But as soon as Hunter lets go of his mother, and they both turn to her, Bee's anxiety blooms in her gut.

"Mom, this is Blanche," Hunter says, and he places a hand on her belly. "And this one in here is going to be your first granddaughter."

Hunter's mother suppresses her gasp behind a trembling hand. She steps forward and cups a hand on Blanche's cheek and the other on her stomach. "How beautiful," the teary-eyed woman says. "Welcome to our humble home, dear."

Blanche covers the hand on her cheek with her own. "Thank you, Mrs Peters."

"Oh, there would be none of that!" The older woman flicks her hand in the air. "You can call me Mom."

A throat clearing interrupts their moment, and the man who has come out with Hunter's mother stretches his hand to Blanche. From the way his shoulders are built and he way his eyes crinkle at the corners, Blanche feels like she's looking at the future Hunter.

"Is a grandpop allowed to rub the belly too?" he asks with his hands raised palms forward.

Bee smiles at him and gives him a curt nod. He reaches forward and instead of rubbing her belly, he wraps her in a tight hug. "Welcome. Thank you for bringing our son home to us."

"Pops, careful, she's fragile," Hunter warns behind them, but his eyes sparkle with happiness.

"Well, we best go in so you can put your feet up, dear," Hunter's mother suggests, guiding Bee towards the house.

Growing up in a five-bedroom Victorian home in Chicago, Blanche has gotten used to seeing old homes, and appreciating their quirky characteristics which make them unique. But as soon as she enters, Hunter's childhood home, the first feature she notices are the framed photos adorning the walls. It would seem that every inch of the home has been dedicated to the love that has existed in it for years. It sends a delightful warmth into Bee's heart. She can almost imagine coming back here every summer with Hunter and Aria.

While Hunter hangs back with his father, Bee pauses in front of a large photograph of the entire family. She could guess that Coral might be a year old in it, which makes Hunter close to four years old. It is beyond her understanding, but immediately, she can spot which of the six boys is Hunter. The little boy in beige shorts and blue shirt sports the biggest smile on his face compared to the rest of them. Blanche traces his profile with a finger.