Chapter 3

Rachelle Grier swung into the driveway, her heart bubbling with joy – it had been ages since she last saw home since Ella's birthday. The decision to leave her Rhode Island college earlier than planned buzzed through her veins, a delightful surprise for her family who were none the wiser. Stepping out of her car, she threw a cursory glance at the Moorehouse residence across the road. She swiftly dismissed it as old routine, uninterested in whether Taylor, whose car was parked conspicuously outside, was present. Their fleeting reunion had been annihilated by a harsh confrontation last month, leaving them silent strangers henceforth. Banishing thoughts of Taylor to the back of her mind, Rachelle decided this weekend was solely for family.

Before she could muster a knock, the door burst open as Ella launched into Rachelle's embrace.

"Your car gave you away!" gasped Ella between breaths, having charged down the stairs at breakneck speed. "You're not due for another day!"

Overcome with impatience, Rachelle couldn't resist coming back early. She hoisted Ella into a twirl before disentangling herself from the clingy grasp. "Let's step inside – I'm eager to catch up with everyone."

Yet, something was amiss. As they prepared to enter, Ella appeared suddenly anxious, eyes darting towards the door and fingers tapping nervously.

"I actually need some supplies for school... Could we possibly head to the store first?"

"Just a bit later; I'm keen to greet everyone first."

Despite itching to argue, Ella held back. Sensing something was up from Ella's reticence, Rachelle gave her sister an inquisitive look but pressed on into the house regardless. As she passed through the threshold with an affectionate rap on the door frame to signal her entry, Marissa emerged into the living room wrestling with Kitty's jam-smeared squirms.

"Rachelle!" Marissa juggled Kitty over to one side and attempted to clean smudges of strawberry off her tiny face using her sweater sleeve. "What a surprise - you've come back early!"

"You all seem quite jubilant," Rachelle observed with a hint of irritation that she couldn't quite shake off. The reception was far from what she had anticipated, a stark contrast to the greetings she was used to receiving.

"I'm sorry, dear, of course, we're overjoyed to have you here," replied Marissa, her tone brimming with genuine remorse which Rachelle appreciated. "Things have just been rather chaotic around here lately; you understand how it goes."

Indeed, Rachelle understood all too well. Orchestrating the activities of the extensive Grier family was anything but trivial. For the longest time during her youth, she had been the pillar of serenity amongst her lively kinfolk. With her departure for college, the mantle had shifted to Marissa's shoulders, and this elicited Rachelle's empathy.

"Allow me to lend a hand," Rachelle proposed. "I'll tidy up and get started on dinner."

"No, please don't worry about it," Marissa hastily dissuaded her, an edge of urgency in her voice that did not go unnoticed by Rachelle, who regarded her cautiously. "You've just arrived; take some time to unwind. We were considering ordering pizza in any case."

"It's no trouble at all," Rachelle persisted, making her way to the kitchen despite the objections from Marissa. "I like to think my cooking has more flair than pizza delivery."

Marissa attempted to interject again — "Really, you should—" yet by then Rachelle had resolved to take action. She recognized Marissa's kindness but could see that help was sorely needed; managing five kids and an overwhelmed husband surely took its toll. Even as Marissa continued to resist — "Rachelle, honestly, I wouldn't—oh dear" — Rachelle pushed forward.

Unfortunately, her determination led her straight into an unexpected scene in the kitchen. If only she could turn back time and choose to recline on the couch instead. Taylor Moorehouse sat there leisurely at the table, immersed in the football game on his laptop while scratching a blissful Nala behind her ears. A silent curse passed through Rachelle's mind for her family's lack of candor as she wished desperately for a swift escape route.

Without any such escape available, she opted for discretion and hoped Taylor hadn't yet noticed her arrival. Should football keep him engrossed enough... She began to retreat unobtrusively until bumping into Marissa who'd come after, possibly to prevent any potential conflict.

That's when Kitty blew her cover with a piercing shout: "RACHELLE!" as though it was their first encounter in ages. Whether out of awareness of the tense atmosphere or sheer mischief-making intent, Kitty chose that moment to be ostentatiously affectionate: "Kitty missed you! Kitty adores you!"

Rachelle grimaced at her baby sister, her feelings a mixture of adoration and exasperation at what was once again the cute yet infuriating source of all her problems.

"Always a pleasure, Rosy," said Taylor, closing his laptop with a decisive click.

"Hey, Taylor," Rachelle replied, directing her gaze toward him and striving to mask her reluctance. "Everything okay with you?"

"I'm alright," he responded, his eyes lingering on her even after giving his brief reply.

Feeling the weight of his intense stare, Rachelle wriggled uncomfortably. His look seemed to throw down a gauntlet. "Your skills in small talk are unparalleled," she quipped.

"Just stick to 'hi,' Rachelle. Spare me the condescension."

"That's quite the vocabulary. Did you learn that word recently?"

"It's great to know you still believe you're above me."

Here lay their greatest contention. Taylor often vehemently argued that Rachelle felt superior to him—this couldn't be further from the truth. She had simply hoped he would strive for his potential beyond the confines of the football field. Nevertheless, her prodding post-breakup only deepened their rift.

"Next time, don't bother speaking and you won't have to fret about it." Rachelle conceded it was not her strongest retort, but it was all she had; deep down, she recognized her condescending tone.

"You have my word, I was ready to let your return remain unnoticed," he countered as he motioned toward Kitty. "But it seems that option is off the table."

Rachelle's temper flared. Taylor had instigated this stilted exchange if one could even call it that; she had been intent on avoiding conflict. While the memory of their past arguments was clear, what slipped her mind was his uncanny ability to provoke her so effortlessly.

"Let's have some harmony here, kids." Celine had arrived, probably alerted by their dispute. "Hello Rachelle."

Offering Celine nothing more than a faint smile in acknowledgment, Rachelle watched as Taylor stood abruptly, causing Nala to tumble from his lap onto the ground. The cat yowled in protest and marched away with a haughty twitch of its tail.

"You're not seriously leaving?" Celine objected. "A valiant warrior doesn't flee from battle."

"Some battles are best left unfought," he retorted, casting a backward glance at her. "Apologies Celine; catch you later." With a nod of thanks to Marissa, he strode toward the back door—his swiftest escape route through the yard.

"But you came over for dinner."

"You've come to dinner again." Perhaps Celine's urge to manipulate Juliette was fueling her determination to mend the shattered but fated connections between her sisters. She held on to hope for Rachelle and Taylor; recognizing true love was something she found obvious. As a storyteller, she considered herself adept at interpreting matters of the heart—those of others, that is; when it came to her romantic life, the situation was grim and absent by contrast. Yet, she didn't let that color her world; she took pleasure in living through the pages of novels and the love lives of her sisters, fancying herself the unseen author of their love stories.

"Dining with you isn't uncommon, but tonight just isn't ideal."

"He's correct; this evening isn't suitable," Rachelle chimed in, her voice laced with urgency for him to depart. Her vision for the night entailed serenity with family, not a battle with Taylor. "And I won't cook for him."

"The thought never crossed my mind," Taylor shot back.

"It's hard to forget your pleas for my cooking."

"Let's not pretend you were unwilling."

"Enough, Taylor," Marissa interjected firmly, placing Kitty into her highchair and steering Taylor towards the exit. "As heartwarming as this exchange is, I believe it's time for you to leave. We'll catch up soon, alright? Take care."

With laughter in his step, Taylor adhered to Marissa's guidance. Rachelle momentarily got lost in admiration of his smile—undeniably his most charming trait. Yet the feeling was ephemeral; she shook it off as soon as it surfaced, choosing instead to dwell on his less endearing aspects.

"You should have informed me of his presence instead of behaving oddly," Rachelle reproached them. "This confrontation could have been sidestepped."

"And then what? Ask him to leave? We extended an invitation three days ago; your arrival was the surprise," Marissa retorted with hands assertively on her hips. "Or perhaps suggest you depart? Unthinkable—you're my daughter whom I haven't seen in ages. Besides, you and Taylor can hardly stand each other's company."

"And really, Rachelle," Celine interjected. "The escalation could have been avoided by you alone; after all, Taylor wasn't the one provoking conflict."

"I do wish you'd make an attempt at civility with him—for our sake, since we actually enjoy his company," Marissa concluded with exasperation.

Guilt gnawed at Rachelle—she knew her behavior seemed selfish—and felt a pang of remorse. However, she also understood she wasn't ready to make peace yet, and by his demeanor neither was Taylor. The rest of the family might not understand their pace but reconciling their complex history wasn't simple or quick; not something that could happen overnight or even after several months regardless of effort.

"Indeed, you're correct," Rachelle exhaled heavily, running her fingers through her hair. "Perhaps I should apologize?"

Simultaneously, Celine agreed with a firm 'yes' just as Juliette chimed in with a resolute 'no,' finally joining them in the kitchen.

Rachelle admired Juliette's perspective and settled herself at the table, letting Juliette's single dissenting voice suffice, even coming from her most skeptical sister.

"Since when do you ever agree?" Juliette complained, slumping into the chair opposite Rachelle.

Rachelle quirked an eyebrow. "Missing me, were you?"

Juliette's anxiety about her upcoming secluded weekend with Hunter became the topic, as noted by Celine, much to Juliette's dismay.

Juliette retorted that Mrs. Rosewood's presence meant they wouldn't truly be alone and insisted she was not anxious.

Marissa interjected with a warning to cease the teasing lest Juliette gets cold feet about the trip.

"No chance of that," countered Celine confidently. "She wouldn't want to be accused of backing out."

Overwhelmed by their banter, Juliette muffled a groan into her arms and begged for silence.

Rachelle reached over to pat Juliette's arm—a gesture straddling comfort and playful goading—before rising to forage the refrigerator for ingredients to create a meal before Mr. Grier's arrival.