Page 15 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
“I usually wait until after dinner,” she tells me. “Randall thinks everyone wants to hear about his cases—no one has the heart to tell that poor man they don’t.”
She shrugs and huffs. I laugh. It sounds fake, but it’s funny that she’s dissing one of them to the new person right before Thanksgiving dinner. And cases? Who is Randall?
Eliza nods toward the house. “You ready to go in?”
“U-uh…yeah,” I say, but don’t immediately get out of the car. “One second, I brought something.”
I take a quick moment to pinch my necklace between my fingers and ask Freyja to calm me down while I reach across the center console. I scoop up the covered plate I brought and get out.
“That’s sweet of you. Mary-Anneisgoing to protest, but still sweet,” Eliza says.
Mary-Anne? Right, the mom. Gods, this is going to end badly. I don’t know most of their names, but I have to act like I do, or at least that they sound familiar. I would have heard themifI were dating Hayden, right?
“Oops,” I laugh. “I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I made a batch of pecan pie brownies. Hope no one else did.”
“That sounds amazing. They’ll love that.” Eliza grins and I follow her to the front door.
Unlike the rest of the house, there’s a stone slab with a sliver of a window down the middle. A wooden-plank door sets to the left of the slab with a long, vertical brushed-metal bar nearly my height along the face. It’s so modern. Eliza pulls the bar and the door swings open without a sound.
This issoout of my league.
My nose is blessed by a scent of apple mingled with the smell of so many different foods. Sweet potatoes for sure. I sniff and catch a whiff of something salty—green beans maybe?
“Kenzie!” My name becomes a chorus of voices.
The first I notice is Mr. Marcus standing behind a large tan sofa behind Grandpa, who hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s caught up in the football game playing on a massive screen. If this is the living room, it’s almost the size of my entire house. Then Grandma in a sleek but somehow cushy-looking armchair next to an adorable, even older lady I haven’t met before. His sister is at the other edge of the large room with some tall blonde-haired guy who looks to be about the same age as Mr. Marcus. Eliza walks up to him and hooks his arm in hers.
“Kenzie!” Grandpa’s gruff voice yanks me away from the horror of more unknown faces.
“Hey, everyone.” I nod nervously. I can’t remember a time I’ve entered a room and had my name yelled out.
“I must be chopped liver,” Eliza grumbles, but she’s smiling.
“Aw, no you’re not, honey.” The blonde guy pulls Eliza closer and kisses her check. So maybe Eliza and whoever he is are the aunt and uncle?
“There are children present.” The little girl rolls her eyes.
He leans in and starts to peck her cheeks over and over again.
Eliza mumbles something he finds funny apparently, then turns and throws me a lifeline. “I’m guessing you’re not too sure who’s who.”
It’s like she read my mind. I grin big and shake my head.
“Okay then.” She squeezes blondie. “This here is my man, Hayden’s Uncle Jeffrey. Hands off.”
Of course, it’s all framed by Hayden. But that’s great, because I’d have a time mapping out the entire family dynamic otherwise. I laugh at her comment. She’s without a doubt my favorite.
“This is Randall”—she points to the man I’ve been calling Mr. Marcus—“Hayden’s dad. He likes to talk.”
“I have lots to discuss.” Mr. Marcus, or Randall, comes back with an amused smile still planted on his face.
“This is Randall Sr.” She points to Grandpa. “Randall’s dad, Hayden’s grandfather. We call him Gramps.”
“Welcome, sonny.” Gramps nods. Gruff. Balding head, peppered hair. Blue eyes that seem to run in the family—minus Hayden—and a small budding gut. I wish I could place the actor’s name I have in my head. Nick comes to mind, but that’s it.
“They’re nonbinary, Gramps.” The only other kid in the room speaks up, looking at me apologetically. I grin back but don’t say anything.
“She’s mine.” Eliza grins proudly at the girl.
