Hold on My Heart Read Free Page B

“That baby’s going to weigh seven pounds, and she’s gained fifty.”
    “I dreamt all three of you were boys,” said Libby’s mother, talking over Nana. “Except for the one time I dreamt Marti was a baby ostrich.
That
was disturbing.”
    Her comment was interrupted by a crash, a bang, and a clatter as the third Hamilton daughter burst through the front door. She wore cargo pants and a gray T-shirt. She was flushed and giggling and dragging a scruffy young man behind her.
    Libby turned to Ginny and rolled her eyes.
    Ginny nodded in silent agreement.
    Marti’s boy toys were like snowflakes. No two were exactly alike, and they seemed to drift away just as silently as they arrived. This soul mate du jour was mangier than most, with long black hair, ripped jeans, and a vivid green dragon tattoo clawing its way up his left forearm.
    “Oh, Mom! I’m so sorry we’re late!” Marti said, her multiple necklaces swaying as she bent over to kiss her father’s cheek. “Hi, Daddy. Hi, everybody. This is Dante.”
    The newcomer raised his tattooed arm in greeting and smiled a lopsided smile. “Hello, family.”
    Marti nudged him into the chair next to Libby. “Here, baby. Sit in this one.” She grabbed an extra chair from the corner and plopped down next to him, her auburn hair swirling around her face. Marti was twenty-two, looked twelve, and acted somewhere in between. “So, did we miss anything?”
    “Did you lose your phone again? You might have called,” Libby’s mother said. “I was getting worried.”
    “I’m sorry. I meant to call, but…” Marti stole a glance at Dante and giggled again. “We lost track of time.”
    Ginny let out a faint grunt of distaste. Ben patted her hand.
    Libby’s mother pursed her lips for a minute, and her shoulders lifted a fraction before she said, “Well, we’re all here now. Welcome to our home… Dante, is it?”
    He nodded.
    “Well, Dante, help yourself to some roast beef.”
    Marti shook her head. “Oh, no thanks. We’ll just have the salad. Dante is vegan.”
    A hush fell over Libby’s meat-and-potato-loving family.
    “Did she say he’s a heathen?” Nana said. She didn’t even pretend to whisper that.
    “He’s also a locavore, but we’ll make do with what’s here,” Marti added.
    “He’s a loca—what?” Libby’s father asked, shaking his head as if it might rattle.
    “A locavore, Daddy. It’s someone who only eats foods that are grown locally.”
    “That’s… interesting,” Ben said.
    Libby exchanged another eye roll with Ginny. This guy wouldn’t last through an entire meal at this house.
    Her father waved around an inordinately large bite of meat before stuffing it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing he asked, “So, Dante, did you two meet at school?”
    The dragon guy grinned. “Hardly.”
    “We met at that medieval banquet I went to a couple of weeks ago.” Marti turned toward her mother. “I told you about it. Remember? Dante was my jousting champion. I tied a scarf on his lance, just like in the movies. It was so romantic.” Her delicate cheeks blushed rosy pink, and she looked back at him like he was a fluffy kitten, a yummy donut, and a million bucks all rolled into one.
    He leaned over and kissed her with a loud, juicy smack.
    Ginny let out another huff of dismay as Libby just stared.
    Her father cleared his throat. “Well, Dante, that’s… also very interesting. So where do you go to college?”
    Dante took a bite of salad and talked around it. “Life is my education. I don’t need college.”
    Three of Libby’s family members simultaneously choked on their food. To almost anyone with Hamilton DNA, there was no higher calling than academia. Libby’s father had taught history for thirty years at Monroe High School, and her mother and Ginny both taught there now. Libby was decidedly the black sheep for choosing corporate America over the blackboard jungle.
    “Everyone needs college,” her mother said,