"EMMA!!!" Matteo comes flying at me the second I've entered the apartment, arms flailing as he maneuvers past his brothers to me, back next to the door taking my shoes off.
His arms wind around me like a vise, tightening once I'm secure as if they'll never let go. He picks me up, hugging me to his chest with so much force I can barely breathe, my face mushed against the fabric of his t-shirt.
"I am so excited for this, we are going to have so much fun this week, oh my gosh this will be an amazing sleepover- we can make cookies! And watch chick flicks, not to mention some boy talks for you, don't worry I know you've been needing them and- "A swift smack follows his cut off words, not to mention the groan from Matteo as he lets me down, rubbing at the back of his red neck.
"You're going to give scare her away weirdo, let the poor girl breathe." Enzo rolls his eyes, mumbling in Italian as he continues to watch Matteo fret at me and talk, guiding me to the guest room down the hall.
It's been changed since the last time I was here; the once white bed spread has been switched out for a pale blue one with an array of mix-matched pillows to choose from, a laundry basket and a mirror had been added to the ensemble, whether for my benefit or just as an addition I don't know, the curtains adorning the window- which were once white and are now a light green-have been pulled back to reveal the view of the modern skyline, dotted with large, glass, business buildings and condos, sleek and reflective in the sky.
It's perfect; small and cozy in the homey, welcoming sense, yet still holding that lived in effect, standing amidst it all, you can feel the memories that have been made, the family laughs shared, the moments that were lived in, the songs that had been played and the voices that had spoken, - I could practically imagine Nathan and his brothers in here when they were little, playing games and jumping on the bed, their laughs ringing out through the halls.
It was exactly what a girl who felt so far away from her home, so pushed from her comfort zone and breached of her normalcies, needed to get that serenity. That feeling of mutual understanding and comfort that comes in nearly every house- that feeling of home.
. . . . .
The boys left me to unpack, to settle into my home away from home for the next few days. The clothes I brought were folded into the drawers, and my shoes were laid by the front door with everyone else for easy on and off. Anything school related I left on drawers, my notebooks, pens, binders and textbooks piled neatly in a stack.
Taking a seat on my temporary bed, I let myself sink backwards into the plush mattress, already exhausted from the day's activities, not to say there was many.
A rapping on the door brings me up from my sitting position, a hand going through my hair to calm its fizziness.
"Come in," I murmur, and at my words the door slowly cracks open, Helen peaking her head inside.
"Ciao Emma, dolce cuore, how are you settling in?" Closing the door tight behind her, Helen makes her way over to my bed sitting next to me on the soft comforter.
"Good, really good thanks. And thank you so much for letting me stay here, I know you guys have a full house as it is, so it means a lot." I give her a smile, picking at a loose thread on my jeans absentmindedly.
"Oh no problem, honey you're more than welcome to stay here whenever you'd like, don't even worry about it," Helen gives my shoulder a squeeze, as if to reinforce her words. "Now, dinner will be ready in a bit if you want to wash up and come on over."
"Thanks Helen, can I help at all with dinner?" Helen moves to the door, her hand steadied on the brass doorknob, ready to depart, presumably back to the kitchen.
"No, don't worry about it, you're the guest, no need to be slaving in the kitchen." She gives me a cheeky wink, before ducking out the door, her soft footfalls echoing down the hall to the kitchen.
In the hopes of making a good impression, I trade out my faded t-shirt for a nice flannel, leaving the top three buttons undone, and run my brush through my hair, trying to work out some of the knots.
Upon hearing Helen's shouts for dinner, multiple sets of feet are heard walking the hall, their voices carrying along with them to the kitchen. Trying to give myself a pep talk of reassurance, I throw open the door and step right out into the hall, prepared for whatever the dinner may throw at me.
I'm the last one to reach the kitchen, but the first to be seated, seeing as Enzo makes such a show about tucking in my chair for me and pouring me a class of juice- after my approval on the flavor- using grand sweeping gestures whenever he gets the chance.
With my face burning a fierce red and Enzo's lips tucked into a smug smirk, everyone else takes their seats, the boys automatically reaching for serving spoons and tongs to load up their plates.
"Smettila!" Helen shouts, slapping Matteo's wrist causing him to drop his spoon of mash potatoes back in the heaping pot.
All the men look at her, alarmed by her shout, their faces a mask of innocence against her enraged stare.
"We serve the guest first, do we not?" While I hurry to reassure her that's unnecessary, the boys faces, even Owen's, flush pink with chagrin, mumbled apologies leaving their lips while their eyes cast down in shame.
"Oh, no Helen that's really unnecessary, go ahead guys." I give an encouraging nod and smile to Enzo across from me, who looks like a reprimanded puppy, and to Nathan on my left, who although wasn't a part of the fiasco looks just as guilty as the rest, his feet fidgeting under the table, eyes avoiding mine as they cast around the room.
Once everyone's been served, with some mumbled Italian sentences here and there from Helen, everyone digs in, forks and knives scraping the plates to get every last bite.
Little conversation is made, seeing as everyone is enjoying the food so much, but little niceties are exchanged, like how I'm settling in, or how the food is so good, or how is your new book going Matteo?
It's light and easy and simple, which I guess I should have expected from a group of such people- of such friends.
As plates are being stacked and the table is being cleared off, Owen clears his throat, calling everyone's attention back to himself.
Mr. Walker gestures for us to sit, an easy smile gracing his lips that never seems to fully leave, as if he always has something to smile about. Looking around the kitchen, even just around the table, you can see he clearly does, for his family looking up at him, much like they are now, has to be one of the greatest prides of being a father.
"Emma, I'm very happy to have you staying with us, and I know the boys are too- you've made quite the imprint on our family here," He smiled at this, and it was much like Nathan's smile, lopsided, boyish, glowing- it was perfect.
"But we do need to set down some ground rules, boys they're mostly for you." He pulls a small square of paper from his pocket, starting to unfold the millions of creases.
Helen was rolling her eyes next to him, clearly seeing his rules as unnecessary, and it makes me want to laugh. To avoid ruining the serious setting Owen's set for us, I turn my gaze to Nathan, lightly bumping my knee with his under the table. Wide eyed he looks back at me, unconsciously rubbing at the knee that I bumped.
Worried I hurt him- did I knee bump too hard?- I stretch my hand out beneath the table, laying it on his knee and he jumps back, smacking his knee off the bottom of the table in the process and gaining us the eyes of everyone else. With his flushed face and my slowly retreating hand (even if no one sees it under the table) we look like quite the guilty pair.
With a clear of his throat, Owen brings us back to his written list of rules, while Matteo across from me wiggles his eye brows, looking wildly between Nathan and I.
Ignoring their obvious teasing, I focus on Owen, listening carefully to his rules as he reads them off, one by one.
"Number one- No doors shall be closed if one of you three is in a room alone with Emma. Number two- You will not enter Emma's room unless given consent. Number three- Boys, shirts are to be worn at all times,"-there were multiple groans over this- "Number four- The door is locked and will remain locked while someone is showering. Number five- There will be no use of inappropriate remarks while Emma stays with us."
"So...would now be a good time to object to rule number three or- "Matteo cuts off Enzo's words with a swift whack to his head, and some mumbled Italian words I can't even make out.
. . . . .
Twisting and turning in the full length mirror, I inspect one of the pajama sets I'd picked out for the week I'm here, pulling at the faded gym shirt I'd stolen from AJ's closet years ago, back when he was a senior in high school. Glancing down at my pale legs, I pull at the drawstrings of my black shorts, patterned with football helmets and frayed at the hem from being cut- they used to be Beau's favorite pajama pants until he tore a hole in the knee, and I saved them from being thrown away.
Although he'd never admit it, I think Beau is grateful I saved them, that his overly used pair of pants weren't going to be thrown away, that they were salvaged from their near-death experience and given renewed sense of life and- Ohmygosh I'm stalling facing the guys in my pajamas by doing an in-depth talk on my brothers old PJ's.
Reaching for my toothbrush on the dresser, I turn and nearly race out of my room, eyes downcast to the floor in the hopes I don't see anyone on my quick walk to the bathroom of embarrassment. It's going well- until my head smashes against someone's side, and I nearly topple over. An arm reaches out to steady me, gripping my forearm lightly, using the slightest touch to anchor me on my feet. Looking up, my eyes meet a familiar pair of navy blue ones, nearly twinkling with amusement at me. I give him a smile, trying to force down my rising blush, although judging by the twitching smile on his lips, it's not working very well.
"Sorry Nathan."
"I-i-it's ok-okay." He smiles back, a small one, and it nearly has me awing he looks so sweet.
"Y-you can u-use the bathroom f-first." He releases my forearm almost instantly, his cheeks tinging pink with a blush, and I nearly want to hug him he looks so cute.
"Thank you Nathan, but I just need to brush my teeth, and as long as that's what you're doing we can just be in there together."
He eyes me wearily for a few moments before following me into the bathroom, his gaze falling on the door, open against the wall. As if for extra measure he pushes it back, tight against the wall, trying to follow his father's rules to the absolute best.
I start brushing my teeth right away, trying my hardest not to remember the last time I was in this room, or the events that occurred here. Nathan seems to be doing the same, pushed back flat against the tub, as far away as he can get from me, with his toothbrush poked into his mouth.
When we've both finished, relatively at the same time, our footsteps meet the wooden hallway floors, carrying us the very short walk to our select bedroom doors. Through his open door I can see Enzo perched on the top bunk, a binder in his lap with papers and textbooks spread out around him, clearly doing some form of work for his job.
Matteo on the other hand is in the process of getting changed, his shirt half way up his torso revealing a tan strip of skin beneath. Whipping my head in Nathan's direction to avoid seeing anything, I can feel the heat racing over my cheeks, enflaming them a scarlet red like the football helmets on my shorts.
"U-um Good Night Nathan." I just barely get the words out, a stuttering, embarrassed mess, before throwing open my door, enclosing myself in the room and nearly slamming it shut behind me, all the while listening to Matteo's goofy laugh next door.