“I absolutely did not. I only got a few months of you. And you hung out with Kennedy half the time.”

I knew Kennedy as Mrs. Green. I knew she’d been friends with Aunt Brooklyn in high school. She traveled the world with her family, but I’d met her a few times when she visited. Jacob called her Aunt Kennedy.

Aunt Brooklyn laughed. “Nonsense. I lived with you.”

“You also lived with Kennedy for a bit too if I recall.”

“Wait,” I said. “You guys lived together in high school?”

Aunt Brooklyn nodded. “After we got engaged...” She paused. “Well, technically a bit before that too.”

“You were engaged in high school?” I asked. Why did I not know any of this? I knew they’d been high school sweethearts. But engaged? As teens? How on earth had that happened?

“It’s a long story,” Uncle Matt said.

“So start from the beginning.”

Chloe groaned. “Please don’t. None of us need to hear this story again. And we’re trying to eat.”

I laughed. “But I’m so curious. My parents never talk that much about how they first met. And my mom refuses to let me read the book she wrote about it. But they met in college. You guys met in high school. So obviously we’re old enough to hear that story.”

“Story time is my favorite!” yelled a deep voice.

I turned to see Mr. Nigel closing the door between his house and the Caldwells’. He hurried through the living room, grabbed a chair, and pulled it up to the table right next to me.

“Oh, and what are we having for dinner? This looks divine, mademoiselle.” He nodded to Aunt Brooklyn and then filled up his entire plate with chicken pot pie. And I mean the entire plate. He’d served himself like half the pot pie.

Was he starving or something?

“Isn’t your family expecting you for dinner?” Uncle Matt asked.

Mr. Nigel shook his head. “No, they’re having sausages again. And I’ve already had plenty of meat for lunch. I’m watching my figure.” He patted his stomach, which was perfectly flat.

I wasn’t sure how eating a huge heap of pot pie helped him look after his figure. And I hardly think he needed to worry about his figure anyway. He looked the same as he had when I first met him. When I was like...two. I swear the guy never aged. He barely looked a few years older than me. Him and Mr. Tanner must have had some kind of weird trillionaire skincare regimen or something.

“I thought you loved meat in all your meals,” Uncle Matt said.

Mr. Nigel shrugged. “Yes. But I’m not German. A normal boy can only take so much sausage. Unlike my girls. They love their sausage. Can’t get enough of it as a matter of fact.”