“With this guide, you won’t miss a single sight to behold of Spencer history,” he shot back as Lucy started tugging Charlotte, unashamedly pushing her way through the crowd. “I hope to chat more later,” he called out, giving her a gentle smile.
Which was good, right? If he was smiling at her, it couldn’t mean that she’d done somethingwrong… right? If she’d somehow hurt Sutton or disrespected her—which Charlotte couldn’t imagine happening from anything she’d said or done lately—then her protective older brother wouldn’t be smiling at her.
She and Lucy found their way through the crowd and down a hall, coming to a stop outside of large, oak double doors, which were closed.
“The guests aren’t supposed to come in here,” Lucy explained as she let go of Charlotte’s hand and reached up to push one of the doors open. “It’s afamilyroom.”
The den in question was large and spacious, but it definitely felt like a family room.
There was a large, stone fireplace against the far wall, with two oversized, soft-looking leather chesterfield couches. There were hand-knit stockings hanging not only above the fireplace, but along the windowsills as well. Off to the side, next to the bay window, was the large Christmas tree, with colorful lights and homemade ornaments.
Yes. Charlotte breathed in deeply, finding herself comfortable in this room. It felt like Sutton in here.
Maybe it was a different place, in a different house, in a different state, but this ambiance was the same one Sutton had managed to recapture in her own home.
Lucy skipped over to gesture at all of the stockings. “My grandma knitted my mama and Aunt Alex and all my uncles’ stockings when they were born. And then she made one for all the grandkids and my other aunts and uncles when everyone got married!” She stopped and pointed at a maroon one that Charlotte noticed was embroidered at the top with Lucy’s name. “This one is mine.” She then pointed at the light blue one next to it. “And that’s my mama’s.”
“They’re beautiful,” Charlotte assured Lucy, revelling in the bright smile she received in return. She traced her fingers over the soft wool that had made Sutton’s stocking.
There was an ache she felt then, right around her heart. Something tender and soft and loving and full and wanting, all in one, and she couldn’t put her finger on precisely what it was.
“Luce, honey? I think Charlotte’s received enough of a tour at this point,” Sutton said from behind them, surprising both Charlotte and Lucy.
She turned, her hand still on the stocking, taking in the sight of Sutton standing in the doorway.
Lucy sighed. “Mama! I’m not done yet.”
Sutton’s beautiful face melted into an exasperated smile. “Sweetheart, you have shown Charlotte more of this house than anyone ever needs to see in one night.” She arched her eyebrows, her tone turning playful. “Also, your auntie Alex is organizing abiiiiggame of hide-and-seek with your cousins right now, and I happen to know that the hide-and-seek champion is in this very room.”
Lucy’s eyes widened as she bounced on her heels. “I’mthe champion!”
“I know! So you better not miss it!” Sutton cajoled her.
Lucy nodded quickly, then turned to Charlotte. “We can finish the tour later?! I gotta go!”
Charlotte laughed. “Of course. I’d hate for you to lose your crown.”
It seemed like only seconds before Lucy raced out of the room, leaving Charlotte blessedly alone with Sutton for the first time all night.
Sutton sent her a small, apologetic smile. “I didn’t realize until I ran into Oliver that Lucy wasstilltaking you on the tour. I’m sure you want to get to mingling with the other adults.”
“Actually, I had a wonderful time. Even for the ten minutes we spent in the kitchen, rooting around for the colander that folds up like a spaceship.”
Sutton’s cheeks flushed adorably from where she still stood in the doorway. “Ah, yes, many of Lucy’s Barbies have taken a trip to the moon in that very colander.”
“So I heard,” she murmured, studying Sutton closely. “I really did enjoy the tour.”
This house—this large, sprawlinghomein every sense of the word—and these people—these nosy, kind, intelligent, loving people—all of it had had a hand in making Sutton the person she was, Charlotte realized. Everything down to the handknit stockings and the many, many photos on the walls. There were far more personal photos—of all of the Spencer children and grandchildren and family friends—than artwork on the walls throughout the home.
All of this was why the house had made her feel so much.
“I’d wanted to take you on the tour the last time you came here,” Sutton whispered, the words so quiet they hardly made it to Charlotte.
A confession.
Charlotte’s heart and stomach flip-flopped at it, her breath catching and holding in her throat.
Sutton tightly closed her eyes as she brought her fingers up to rub at her forehead, wincing. “I’m sorry. That’s… I didn’t mean to say that.”