Celine
The woman grins brightly when we make eye contact, and the man beside her allows a small smile to show on his lips.
She walks over to me, and the man follows, Mateo behind them, but he walks back over to his seat.
She sits down beside me and suddenly takes my face in her wrinkled, ringed hands, her eyes shining brightly with tears. "Hi, miel."
(T—Honey.)
Then she pulls back, only to lean back and wrap me in a bone-breaking hug. I glance over her shoulder, at Scarlett—the most welcoming and social of them all—and plead with my eyes for her to help me. She smiles and stands, walking over to sit by Nic and Elias. I notice her nudge the former.
"Nona, you're gonna crush her." Nicolas laughs.
She ignores him, turning to the man. "N'est-elle pas adorable, Jacques?"
(T—Isn't she adorable, Jacques?)
"Très."
(T—Very.)
"You're gorgeous, honey!" The woman exclaims, her voice more accented than my fathers. She moves a strand of hair back from my face as a small tear rolls down her cheek.
"What wrong?" Elias asks, crawling over. He looks up at the woman.
"I'm just so happy my grand baby is back." She replies, her voice taking on a softer tone as she wipes away the salty tear from her cheek.
Elias giggles and claps his hands.
The shouts from before get louder, making Elias frown again. He crawls back over to Nic, who wraps his muscular arms around his son.
"Who's yelling like that?" The man asks. My grandfather, I think—they're my grandparents.
"Nos parents." Mateo says.
(T—Our parents.)
My grandma sighs. "L'un de vous va les faire taire. Je peux déjà dire que ça va rendre ta soeur nerveuse."
(T—One of you shut them up. I can already tell it's making your sister nervous.)
Scarlett stands, "j'y vais."
(T—I'll go.)
I furrow my eyebrows. What're they saying?
"Je viendrai. Cela devient gênant." Julien says.
(T—I'll come. This is getting awkward.)
Scarlett sends him a disapproving look. "Reste avec ta petite sœur."
(T—Stay with your baby sister.)
Julien sighs, sends me an awkward smile, and sits back down.
Scarlett leaves the room. I wrap my arms around my stomach as Nicolas whispers something to Elias.
A second later, the nephew I never expected to have climbs onto my lap, stands on my things and kisses my cheek. "You pretty."
My heart softens as he plops down to sit on my knee. I smile. "Thank you."
"How come you didn't bring Diya?" My grandma asks Mateo.
"The baby has chicken pox. She's staying home with him." Mateo responds.
I look over at him. "You have a kid too?"
He smiles. "Yeah, his name is Zavian."
"How old is he?"
"Eleven months." He says, something like pride shining in his eyes. "You wanna see a picture?" He asks.
"Sure." I say. His lips tilt up, and he stands, walking over and sitting in the empty spot beside me. Elias claps again when he gets his phone out, clicking on Photos before scrolling up. He turns his phone to me.
I grin. "Aw, he's so cute."
"I know." He says, a soft look overtaking his features.
He's about to talk again when my father walks back into the room. He smiles. "Dinner's ready."
Scarlett and my mother are trailing him, the former smiling and the latter with a stone cold expression, as always.
I stand, my grandparents taking Elias, before I walk over to my mother. She sends me a look that suddenly makes me feel guilty. I'm betraying her—her past, the stories she's told me—by smiling with these people. By talking to them. By liking them, even if it's only an emblem.
I drop my gaze and walk beside her, following everybody out into the hallway and into the large dining room—in the centre of which is a long dining table, topped with a white tablecloth and expensive looking cutlery.
"Don't eat too much." My mother mumbles in my ear. "You've had a lot over the past few days."
My cheeks flush in embarrassment, but she quickly swats my arm. "Stop that." She orders.
I look up, swallowing the lump stuck in my throat when I see Scarlett staring straight at us, head tilted to the side and her eyes narrow into a glare. Did she hear what my mum said? Does she agree? It's just because I've been doing a lot, so I've used up more energy, therefore needed more food. But she's right. I have gained a lot of weight.
I frown.
"Celine, you can sit here." My father says, motioning to the chair beside the head of the table. My mother sighs, but begins walking over. I follow, taking the spot beside my father. She goes to sit next to me, but Nicolas quickly swoops into the seat. Scarlett walks over with a high chair, sitting down beside Nicolas after putting Elias in it. It stays between his parents.
"Celine." My mother says sharply. I stand up, but my father talks, making me pause.
"She doesn't have to be glued to your side all evening, Isabel." He says. His voice commands all the attention in the room; everyone turns to look at him, all chatter ceasing. Even Elias stays quiet. "This isn't about you. It's about Celine meeting the family you took her away from."
I look down at the floor.
When my father turns his words back to me, his tone is much softer. Not as scary or intimidating. "Sit back down, amour."
(T—Sweetheart.)
Tentatively, I do. My father smiles, pleased, before looking over at the other end of the table. "There's an empty chair over there." He says.
My mother sighs heavily before walking over to it and sitting down. I keep my eyes trained on my empty plate as people begin to talk again, filling the room with noise. Everyone starts shovelling food from the trays in the middle of the table onto their plates.
"Are you okay, Celine?"
I look over at my father, but I can feel my mother staring at me from the corner of my eye. So I nod, electing not to say anything at all.
"Are you not hungry?" He asks me.
"Not really." I say, even though my stomach aches with the want of food. "I ate something before coming. I didn't know we'd be having dinner."
"Oh, that's okay." My father says, smiling again.
I look around the room, at my brothers, at Scarlett, at my grandparents, and I don't know how I feel about it all. I thought I'd shake of fear the entire time I'm here. I thought they'd shout and scream and hurt me.
But maybe they're just waiting until I trust them; If that's the case, then I vow never to do that.
"CeCe!" Elias exclaims. "Auntie CeCe!"
"Eat your food, honey." Scarlett says. I look over to see Scarlett trying to put a spoon in Elias's hand, but he's not having it. He squeals, making grabby hands for me. I furrow my eyebrows; he hasn't even known me for that long.
"Aunt CeCe!"
I take a sip from my glass of water.
"Elias." Nic warns.
"Shh!" The toddler says to his father, causing surprised laughs to fumble out of Mateo and Julien, sitting across from me.
Elias screeches. "CeCe!"
Scarlett sighs, exhausted. She lifts Elias up, out of his chair, and begins to bounce him on her hip. He isn't having it, though, thrashing.
"Here, Scarlett, I'll have him." My father says. She lets out a small breath as gratitude shines in her eyes. She walks over, and for a moment Elias stops. He pouts when he's set down in his grandfathers lap.
Elias immediately jumps off, running over to me. He giggles as he latches onto my leg, wrapping little arms around it. He rests his chin on my leg, looking up at me with happy eyes.
"Hi." I say.
"Hiya, CeCe!"
Scarlett successfully manages to grab him out from under the table then. Nicolas stands, following Scarlett out of the room.
I turn back, focusing on a loose thread in the bottom of my jumper. I wanted to wear one of my favourite crop-tops, but my mother said I wasn't allowed. She said I've eaten too much this week, and that wearing it would only make me embarrass myself.
So now I'm wearing the jumper.
I don't talk, and nobody attempts to talk to me for the next couple minutes, though my father glances at me every few seconds as if he's making sure I'm still here. When Scarlett walks through the door again, I look over at her, exhaling a short breath of relief. Maybe she'll do something to diffuse the thick tension in the room, hardly covered up by the sound of chatter.
She doesn't say anything to me, leaning down to whisper something into my fathers ear. When she pulls back, my fathers expression matches hers—completely serious, yet also a bit relieved.
"How high is it?" He asks.
"Like five inches. We were watching the news while trying to calm Elias down. They're recommending that people don't drive. Half of the ground is apparently frozen."
I pause, looking over at my mother. She's eating her dinner calmly, her portion small, though bigger than the one she allows me to have whenever we eat. She doesn't return my gaze.
My father clears his throat suddenly. I look back over at him, as does everybody, my grandparents included. They're sitting at the other end of the table, close to my mother, but like everyone else, they don't speak to her.
"Everybody's going to have to stay here tonight." He says. I frown, snapping my head back over to my mother. Her eyes are narrowed into a glare I'd hate to be on the receiving end of. "There's a lot of snow, and the roads are frozen."
Mateo's eyes widen. "Are you kidding me?" He asks.
"It's all over the news." Scarlett says as Nicolas and Elias return to the dining room. This time, Elias only at me before he's put into his high chair. I wave back, barely. I'm more focused on the fact that I'm supposed to stay here. With these people. They've been kind so far.. but my mother said that's what it was like at first for her, too.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Mateo mumbles, standing up from his seat. He pulls his phone out, exiting the room with haste before anyone has a chance to ask where he's going.
"It's a good job you brought some of your things." My father says to me.
"We're not staying here."
My father closes his eyes for a moment before dragging them reluctantly over to my mother. "I don't care what you do. I do care if you take my daughter with you, though."
My mothers nostrils flare in anger. "Who do you think you are?"
My father laughs, but the sound is humourless. "I know you're well aware of who I am, Isabel. Just like I know that the only time my daughter is leaving this house is whenever the ice and snow have melted. But, again, you're welcome to do as you please. Go build an igloo outside for all I care. Maybe if I'm feeling generous I'll let you borrow a space heater."
"Someone call the burn unit." Léo mumbles, lips tilted upwards at the corners. Camilo snorts a laugh.
I continue to stare down at my lap. When I hear my mothers resigned sigh, I look up. "Fine. Where am I supposed to sleep?"
"The igloo." Camilo mutters. Léo laughs this time.
"A guest room." My father tells her. "Why don't I show you to it now?" He suggests, smiling still, although I can tell it isn't genuine.
My mother doesn't respond as she stands. My father looks down at me, and his fake smile seems to morph into a real one as he copies her. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He addresses the whole table, but I think his words are for me.
He leads my mother away, and as soon as the door closes behind them everybody begins to speak again.
"That woman is annoying." Léo says.
"How did we all come out of her?" Camilo questions, shovelling food into his mouth.
"I can understand how you did." Léo replies.
Camilo scowls. "Fuck you. You're just like her."
His twin brothers mouth opens wide in shock. "I am not—"
I frown again as I look down at the floor, avoiding all the glances my way. I don't like how they're using my mother—our mother—as an insult. However I keep my mouth closed, like I always have.
Like my mother tells me I will always need to.