Chapter five

The warm glow of the setting sun cast long shadows through the open windows of the restaurant, illuminating the rustic wooden tables and chairs. Lydia sat perched on one of the chairs, her hair cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. She wore a scarlet dress that flowed around her like a flame, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the earthy tones of the wood and the soft green hues of the plants that adorned the room. Her eyes, bright and curious, surveyed the scene, taking in the gentle murmur of conversation and the soft strains of music that drifted from the nearby piano.

Jonathan walked into the restaurant with a bright smile, his heart racing with excitement. His eyes immediately searched for Lydia, knowing she would be the one in the scarlet red dress that always caught his attention. Spotting her in the corner, he felt a rush of warmth.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, making his way over, his smile growing wider as he approached. She looked up, her eyes sparkling as they locked onto his, and he knew in that moment that this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Jonathan settled into the rustic wooden bench across from Lydia, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the giant oak tree overhead. As he took in the scene, his eyes landed on Lydia's face, and he couldn't help but smile. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his voice soft but full of admiration. Lydia blushed, a rosy hue blooming on her cheeks as she looked down at her hands, her smile shy and bashful. The warmth of the compliment, combined with the beauty of their surroundings, made her feel incredibly special.

A waiter, clad in a forest-green apron over a brown shirt, approached their table. His smile was warm and welcoming, almost as if he were a part of the natural setting itself. He carried a worn leather pad and a pen, ready to take their order.

A sweet, rosy hue crept up her cheeks, a physical manifestation of the fluttering excitement in her heart. Every little romantic gesture from Jonathan feels like a fresh spark, igniting feelings that remind her of the early days of their relationship. As they share laughs and tender glances, Lydia feels a warmth spreading through her, making her cheeks flush with a mix of joy and affection. It's as if every date, no matter how many they've had, brings a new wave of love that leaves her feeling giddy and cherished.

Lydia's laughter, bubbling up from the depths of her chest, was cut short by the insistent ringing of her phone. Jonathan, still chuckling at his own joke, raised an eyebrow at her. "Someone's calling," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Lydia pulled out her phone, a smile still lingering on her lips. It was Charles. "Hey, bro," she answered, her voice a little breathless from the laughter. "Just a minute, I'm with someone," she said, the sound of Jonathan's laughter echoing in the background.

Jonathan, however, held up a hand, a playful grin on his face. "Go ahead," he said. "I'm sure it's important."

Lydia, surprised by his gesture, smiled warmly at him. "Thanks," she said, and turned her attention back to her phone. "Hey, bro," she said, her voice now calmer, "what's up?"

Lydia's face lit up like a Christmas tree as Charles' voice, full of excitement, announced, "I'm coming back this weekend!" The sound of Jonathan's laughter in the background seemed to fade away as Lydia's whole world focused on this news.

Her eyes, previously sparkling with amusement, now held a warmth that radiated pure joy. She could practically feel the relief in her chest. Mr. Briggs and Rachel had been practically begging Charles to come visit more often, but his demanding schedule always seemed to get in the way. Now, finally, he was coming back.

Lydia's lips curved into a wide smile, the kind that stretched from ear to ear, and she couldn't help but let out a little squeal of delight. "Oh, that's amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. "I can't wait to see you!"

Jonathan, however, didn't share Lydia's enthusiasm. His smile seemed forced, and his eyes held a flicker of something that wasn't quite amusement. The truth was, he and Charles had never really hit it off. Their personalities clashed, and their attempts at conversation always ended in awkward silences. He couldn't help but feel a slight pang of anxiety at the thought of Charles' impending visit.

Lydia noticed the shift in his mood, a slight frown creasing his brow, and her heart ached for him. "Hey," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "It's going to be fine. I know you and Charles don't always see eye to eye, but maybe this time will be different. We can all have fun together."

She squeezed his hand gently, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and hope. "Besides," she added, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I'm sure Charles will be too busy catching up with everyone else to even notice you're there."

Jonathan chuckled, a sound that was more forced than genuine. "Yeah, right," he said, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "As if Charles would ever forget about me."

Lydia knew he was just trying to mask his anxiety, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how much Jonathan loved her family, and she could tell that he was worried about how Charles' visit would impact their dynamic. She squeezed his hand again, silently vowing to do everything she could to make sure everyone felt comfortable and included.

After all, this was supposed to be a happy occasion. Charles was coming back, and that was something worth celebrating. Lydia was determined to make sure that everyone, even Jonathan, felt the joy of his return.

Rachel, now 16, had blossomed into a stunning young woman, even more beautiful than Lydia had been at the same age. Her hair flowed in dark, silky waves, framing her face perfectly. With a figure that turned heads, she embraced her curves confidently.

She had a knack for style, and her love for mom jeans showcased her figure in the best way possible. The way she paired them with crop tops and vintage tees made her look effortlessly cool and chic. Whenever she walked into a room, it was hard not to notice her radiant presence, a mix of youthful energy and undeniable charm.

Lydia often found herself smiling with pride, knowing that her sister was growing into such a remarkable person. The bond between them was strong, and Lydia loved sharing fashion tips and advice, reveling in the joy of watching Rachel find her own unique style.

Lydia, on the other hand, didn't really have time to dress up. She always threw on whatever her hands touched first from her closet, often ending up in a simple t-shirt and leggings. While Rachel took her time to curate her outfits, Lydia was more focused on getting through her busy days, juggling school, work, and everything else.

Despite her casual style, there was something effortlessly charming about Lydia. She radiated a warmth that drew people in, and her personality shone brighter than any outfit ever could. Still, she admired Rachel's flair for fashion and often found herself wishing she could take a little more time to express herself through her clothes.

Rachel was putting on her favorite pair of Jorts, the ones with "R-A-C-H" spelled out on the back in a cool, distressed font. They were custom-made by her best friend Sally, and she felt like a rockstar whenever she wore them. She threw on a crop hoodie to complete the look, her dark hair cascading down her back.

She was helping her dad unload groceries from the car, their trunk overflowing with bags. They had gone shopping in preparation for Charles' arrival, and the house was already buzzing with anticipation. Rachel couldn't wait to see her brother again.

Rachel was picking up the last grocery bag when a black SRT Dodge Demon pulled up in their driveway. The engine roared, and the car seemed to vibrate with power. Rachel watched in amusement, wondering who could be arriving in such a stylish, and frankly, loud, vehicle.

The engine went silent, and the driver's door opened. A figure, about 6'2", stepped out, wearing the most regular set of clothes. A pair of jeans and a white shirt. The outfit disappointed Rachel. She'd expected something more flashy to match the car, something that would make a statement. 

This was just… normal. She couldn't help but wonder if the person behind the wheel was as ordinary as their attire suggested.

"Rach," the familiar voice called out to her. Rachel couldn't believe her ears. It was the voice of her brother. Her brother owned the Hellcat? Her brother owned a car? 

She stared at the figure, trying to reconcile the image of her brother, who always seemed to be more interested in books and video games, with the owner of this sleek, powerful machine. The realization hit her like a wave. Her brother had changed, and she couldn't wait to find out how.