For a frozen moment, no one speaks. Then Gunnar grins wickedly. "Well, well. Looks like we're interrupting dessert."
I bury my face in Alder's shoulder, mortification washing over me. But then I feel him shaking with silent laughter, and somehow, the absurdity of the situation hits me, too.
“I used the damn calendar,” Alder says, not bothering to move away from me.
"Clearly," Odin drawls, setting down his bags. His girlfriend Thora is fighting a smile beside him.
Emerson steps forward, radiating warmth despite the awkward circumstances. "We can come back later if you two need some time to... finish your conversation."
Gunnar snorts. "No, we can't. I just drove an hour with your cello rattling in the trunk."
"I told you to check the calendar," Thora mutters to Odin.
"I did check it!" he protests. “And I noticed that Alder and Lena were hogging it all to themselves.”
Alder groans. Gunnar raises his hands in innocence. "Don't look at me. Dad wanted a family weekend."
“Minus Tucker,” Odin adds, shaking his head.
From the doorway, Juniper Stag appears, followed by her husband Ty, who sends Gordie into a frenzy of excitement.
"Well, don't stop on our account," Juniper says cheerfully, taking in the scene. “You were saying something about love and forever?” She beams at me.
And just like that, our romantic getaway transforms into a family weekend. Bags are carried upstairs, and groceries are unpacked. The quiet sanctuary fills with laughter, teasing, and stories.
I help Juniper prepare lunch, chopping vegetables while she tells me stories of young Alder. Gunnar and Odin set up a horseshoe game outside, their competitive banter carrying through the open windows. Emerson and Thora discuss music on the couch, their conversation punctuated by Thora's distinctive laugh.
Alder catches my eye through the window, where he's helping his father set up the grill on the deck. He mouths "Sorry" with a rueful smile.
But I'm not sorry, not really. There's something magical about being enveloped in this family's warmth, about being treated as if I've always belonged here.
Later, when the family has spread out across the property—Gunnar and Emerson swimming, Odin and Thora hiking, Ty and Juniper napping—Alder and I find a quiet moment on the deck. The mountains spread before us, bathed in late afternoon sunlight.
"I'm sorry about the change of plans," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I promise the next trip will be just us."
I lean into him, watching a male deer feel its way through the trees. "It's okay. I don't mind sharing you sometimes."
He studies my face. "Really? You're not just saying that?"
"Really." I turn to face him fully. "I meant what I said this morning. I love you. And I love your family, chaos and all."
"Even when they barge in unannounced?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
"Especially then," I admit. "It means I'm finally part of something real."
His expression softens, and I see the depth of his feelings written plainly across his face.
"You know," I say, intertwining my fingers with his, "for so long, I tried to make myself smaller. Literally and figuratively. With Brad, with my mother, with everyone. I shrank myself to fit the spaces others allowed me."
Alder squeezes my hand encouragingly.
"But for the first time in my life, I don't feel too big, too loud, or too much," I continue. "With you, with this family, I'm exactly the right size."
He pulls me into his arms, his embrace solid and sure. "You could never be too much for me, Lena. You're everything I never knew I needed."
Behind us, the door slides open, and Juniper calls, "Dinner is served, lovebirds!"
We both laugh at the moment of intensity breaking.
