Chapter 12 — an event, a surprise
Dante spoke while looking out the car window, watching the familiar scenery pass by as Bella drove steadily down the road. His tone carried a mix of nostalgia and discomfort, as if the air itself felt different after so many years away.
— It's strange coming back to this place after all this time, isn't it?
Bella's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. She turned to him in shock, her expression showing genuine surprise, as though she had never expected her brother to say something like that. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windshield, highlighting the confusion on her face.
She kept her eyes on him for a second longer before looking back at the road, unsure how to process the sudden seriousness in his voice.
Dante continued casually, his voice soft but carrying a deeper meaning beneath the words:
— But don't forget that I'm your brother. Our father is here too. And my mother really adores you. When I was a kid, she would always joke, "Why weren't you born as a cute little girl like your sister?"
Bella blinked several times, taken aback.
She frowned and asked, genuinely confused:
— Why are you telling me this?
Dante shifted in his seat, resting his elbow against the door as he looked at her with a small, understanding smile.
— Well… I just want you to know that this is also your home. You're not a stranger here. You never were and you never will be. Just because you spent years away doesn't mean this place stopped being your home.
He spoke gently, not as a teasing brother, but as someone trying to comfort her — something he rarely did out loud.
Bella's expression softened.
She kept her gaze on the road but her shoulders relaxed, the tension visibly melting away. For a long moment, she didn't answer.
Then, in a very quiet voice, almost swallowed by the hum of the car engine, she murmured:
— Thank you…
Dante simply nodded, satisfied that she had understood.
When they finally arrived home, the familiar wooden house came into view — the porch, the soft glow coming from the living room window, the smell of pine carried by the wind. It all felt strangely comforting.
As they stepped inside, they immediately noticed their father, Charlie, sitting on the couch. He had a serious expression, staring at the floor as though deep in thought.
Dante stopped near the doorway and looked toward his mother, Sara, who was arranging some paperwork on the dining table.
— What happened to Dad? — Dante asked, concerned.
Sara sighed softly before answering:
— Well… his old coach from school passed away. They contacted him and asked him to attend the funeral.
Dante looked at his father, who only nodded with a heavy expression.
— Are you going to attend the funeral? — Dante asked.
Charlie lifted his head and looked at all of them. His face softened a little as he answered:
— I talked to my friends who are also going. They're taking their families because there's going to be a get-together afterward, at the lake house one of our old buddies rented.
Bella and Sara nodded, understanding the situation immediately.
But Dante, curious, tilted his head and asked:
— Dad, what was your coach's name?
Charlie ran a hand over his chin and replied:
— Robert.
The moment Dante heard that, something clicked in his mind.
"Robert… wait. Isn't that how the movie Grown Ups starts?"
He felt a wave of unexpected relief.
"At least it's not the beginning of a horror movie…"
Sara turned to her husband again and asked:
— So when are we going, Charlie?
Charlie leaned back on the couch and said:
— Since today is Friday, we can go tomorrow.
Bella and Sara both nodded in agreement.
Dante lifted his shoulders slightly and said:
— Nice. I'll just go get everything ready to leave.
Sara looked at her son with a small, mischievous smile:
— Don't forget to tell Margaret that you're traveling. We don't want my daughter-in-law to get worried.
Dante froze.
He slowly turned back to his mother with a shocked expression, as if she had just revealed that she could read minds.
Sara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.
— I have a good nose, son. I knew I had smelled that scent somewhere, so it just clicked.
Dante let out a defeated sigh, lifting his hands in surrender.
— Okay… we're dating. Happy now?
Sara's serious expression melted instantly as she smiled with approval.
— She's a good woman. I have nothing against her. I'm just a little surprised that you chose an older woman as your girlfriend… but considering that even as a child you were very mature, I don't think you'd get along with someone your own age.
Dante rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed but relieved the conversation hadn't turned into a lecture.
— Well… I'm glad you understand. I'll go upstairs and pack my bags.
He headed toward the staircase, leaving the living room.
Charlie and Bella stayed behind for a moment, both looking at Sara with identical expressions of confused disbelief.
Charlie blinked twice.
— Margaret… that's his editor, right?
— Yes — Sara answered calmly. — Our son really does like older women.
She paused, thinking to herself more quietly, though her expression made her thoughts obvious:
"Not that it's a problem. We're not normal people anyway. Longevity works differently for us. As long as he likes her and she loves our son… that's enough for me."
Charlie let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.
— Looks like I won't be able to have that father-and-son 'dating talk' with him…
Sara smiled proudly, looking toward the stairs as if Dante were still standing there.
Bella watched the warm scene unfold — the affection between Charlie and Sara, the acceptance, the way the house suddenly felt warmer, more alive.
Then Dante's earlier words echoed in her mind:
"This is also your home."
For the first time in a while, she felt like maybe… he was right.
She looked at Charlie and Sara and said softly:
— Well… I'm going to pack my bags too.
With that, she headed upstairs, feeling a little lighter than before.