Chapter Ten

AARON

“Hurry the fuck up and don’t forget drinks and LDs.” I hang up my cell phone and look out my front window where Amelia is slouching in a lawn chair probably manufactured before she was born.

I used to know what to do when she was sad. I would wrap her up in my arms and hold her tightly. I would make sure she felt protected, loved, as if nothing bad could ever touch her when she was in my arms, but now? Fuck, I have no idea what to do. I don’t feel like I’m allowed to touch her, despite my resolve to make her mine. So when she started throwing Tootsie Rolls and sinking them in a pothole, I knew I needed reinforcements.

I can’t do this alone, and I can’t do this the way I used to.

Before I called Tucker, I made a quick phone call to Mrs. Wickham to tell her to call off the hounds, that Amelia was having a rough day and to give her a break. Thankfully, I have a good rapport with the head of the neighborhood, and she said she would let everyone know.

From the looks of it, word has spread because everyone is back to their normal business of preparing their porches for trick-or-treaters.

Since that’s taken care of, I run around my house grabbing blankets, a portable space heater, camping chairs, and my giant bowl of candy for the kids. I put everything in a wagon that’s in my garage, including a few beers that I had leftover in my fridge, a bag of Cheetos—her favorite—and some cheese and pepperoni because . . . well, protein and all.

The street lamps are starting to come on as I walk out into the darkening neighborhood. In the far-off distance you can hear children laughing and screaming as a fall breeze kicks up in the air. Crisp leaves tumble down the street, reminding me that my favorite season is here. Not only my favorite season, though. It used to be Amelia’s as well.

Since we share a conjoined driveway, Amelia isn’t far away from where I stand. I take her in, wondering what upset her so terribly. It can’t be the Tootsie Rolls. She’s not the kind of girl who cries over something trivial like that.

Maybe she had a fight with Tyke, or maybe they broke up. Fuck, that would be great for me. Sad for her, but honestly, he’s nothing to me. Shit, that’s not true. I once wanted a relationship with him before envy took root, but I’m choosing to ignore the bloodlines we share.

I can’t believe he didn’t drive up to make sure she got here okay. What sort of douche doesn’t do that shit? I’m guessing an entitled, I have it all douche, someone who has never lacked for anything.

But knowing my luck, she’s still with the douche—yes, he’s a douche now—because that’s how this kind of stuff works, right? I’m never that lucky. Never have been, never will be.

Taking my time, hoping Tucker is close by, I wheel my wagon to Amelia and stop behind her chair. Startled, she turns, tears streaking down her face and takes in my pile of crap.

Wanting so desperately to pull her into my arms, I grind my teeth and hold back, reminding myself not to scare her away. Winning her back will take time. “Thought you could use some company.” I pull out my giant torture-for-all-dentists candy and set it in front of us. It’s a two-foot by two-foot bowl—huge, I know—full of Milky Ways, Snickers, 3 Musketeers, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Skittles, and Twix Bars. I get the good stuff. “Put your Tootsie Rolls in there and mix it around; the kids can pick from the bowl.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Amelia’s voice is shaky as she pulls her sleeves over her hands and wipes away her tears.

I set up the camping chairs, one for me, one for Tucker, and one for Emma. “I want to. Now mix up the candy while I get everything ready.”

Seeming a little skittish at first, she moves slowly, but once she sees what I have going on, she starts moving a little faster, making sure to mix all the candy in together.

“Ah, I’m missing something.” I snap my finger and jog to my garage where I snag my wireless Bose speaker from my workbench. Using the wagon as a coffee table, I place it between the chairs and angle the bowl of candy in front of it. I turn on the space heater and hand Amelia a blanket. “It’s going to get cold.”

Still looking a little caught off guard, she takes the blanket and drapes it over her lap, tucking the sides in, which only makes me smile because it’s a move she did so many years ago. She’s always liked to be wrapped in a cocoon.

“All right, we have snacks, drinks, candy of course, and”—I pull up Spotify on my phone and pick a Halloween mix—“now music.”

The Bluetooth connects to the speakers and at a screaming pitch, Monster Mash starts playing. Alarmed by the volume level, I jump in place and fumble with my phone until I grab hold of it and turn down the volume.

“Christ.” I chuckle, looking sheepishly at Amelia, and say, “That’s embarrassing.”

She chuckles herself, a little light coming back in those hazel eyes of hers. “Rocking out last time?”

“Apparently.” I allow my racing heart to settle as I take a seat next to Amelia just as Tucker pulls up in his truck. “I, uh, have some friends coming to hang out. I hope that’s okay.”

“What?” She eyes the truck and starts to frantically wipe at her eyes.

Leaning over, I grip her hands and rest them on her lap. “You look beautiful, Amelia—”

“But I must have makeup smeared all over my face.”

“You don’t. Like I said, you look beautiful.” My words slowly settle her. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about what’s really going on, and don’t consider telling me some bullshit lie about only being able to buy Tootsie Rolls, I know you better than that. I’m kind of out of my element here, so I resorted to the one thing that usually makes me feel better. I invited some of my friends to keep us company. To take our minds off everything.” I grip her hand for comfort. “I’ll understand if you want to go into your house; we can hand out your Tootsie Rolls, but if you want to stay, I can guarantee you some embarrassing stories about me and some good laughs.”

Staring at my hand that covers hers, she looks me in the eyes and says, “You mean there are more embarrassing stories than the time my dad walked in on you masturbating to a picture of me?”

Of course she wouldn’t forget that story.

I grip her hand tightly then pull away. “It’s not like I was jacking off to a picture of you from high school I plucked off your dad’s wall. You’d had boudoir pictures taken for me, I was horny as fuck, and all I wanted was your sweet body against mine. But you had your period and, as you specifically told me, there is a no-fly zone during that time of the month.”

“Still,” she giggles, “he caught you with your pants down, dick in hand, humping the hell out of your palm while staring at me in lingerie.” Her laughter fills my head, and my fucking heart bursts. I’ve missed that sound.

“Whatever. Your dad was just jealous of my dick size.”

“What?” Amelia smacks my arm. “No, he wasn’t.”

I snort. “Uh, he so was.” I look to the sky as I recount that night. “I’m pretty sure he said do you stick that giant thing in my daughter?”

“He did not.” Amelia chuckles.

“Did too, and I told him you liked it in your mouth as well.”

“Oh my God!” Her smile stretches across her face, her eyes wide. “Aaron Walters, you did not say that to my dad.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I didn’t. I just said I fucked you with it earlier that week in his bed.” So not true, but it’s fun to see how shocked and surprised she gets.

“You’re such a liar.” Laughter still bubbling out of her, she shakes her head at me just as Tucker and Emma walk up with drinks in hand and a grocery bag full of Little Debbie snacks, meaning a brilliant combination for one hell of a night.

“Hey, you guys. This is my neighbor Amelia. Amelia, this is one of my best friends, Tucker, and his wife, Emma.” I lean over to Amelia and wink. “Newlyweds.”

Smiling, she stands and takes their hands. “Congratulations. It’s nice to meet you.”

I introduce Amelia as my neighbor because I feel it’s the best option to make her feel comfortable and not put her on the spot. Nothing like saying, “Hey this is my ex-girlfriend, Amelia, who I’ve never stopped loving but broke her heart only to push her into my brother’s arms. A brother she doesn’t know exists,” to make the night awkward. Eh, I’ll pass.

Tucker, Emma, and Amelia exchange pleasantries before taking their seats. Tucker whips the bag of Little Debbie snacks onto my lap and says, “They didn’t have Cosmic Brownies. Sorry, man.”

“Of course they fucking didn’t. The one thing I was craving.” I dig through the bag and start pulling out boxes. From the corner of my eye, I can see Amelia curiously watching me. My Little Debbie obsession started when I met Racer after Amelia and I broke up. He was the one who got both Tucker and me hooked, but if you ask him about it, he’ll deny it. Probably to his dying day.

Not caring what she might think about my urgency to get the snack in my mouth, I tear open the Caramel Cookie Bars and hold out a package to her. “Want one?”

She eyes it and then looks at the other boxes. “No, I want a Swiss Roll.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Emma says, leaning over and grabbing the box from me. “The Swiss Roll is my favorite. It’s so small and cream filled, just like Tucker’s penis.”

“Ha!” I laugh while nudging my friend with my elbow. “She just called your dick small, dude.”

Tucker rolls his eyes. “She had a few drinks before coming over. Someone is feeling a little comical tonight. Don’t worry, she’ll be reminded about my dick size when we get home.”

“Yeah, I’ll start practicing now.” Emma takes a Swiss Roll and starts thrusting it in and out of her mouth. Okay, maybe bringing them here wasn’t such a good idea. I’m guessing as a married couple, first impressions aren’t their thing. “Although, this is still a little big.” She examines the Swiss Roll, which Tucker snags and plops in his mouth. “Hey!”

He shrugs. “Consequences, babe. You have to live up to them.”

Emma only pouts for a few seconds before she realizes she can open another bag. Yup, she’s drunk, because she’s never been this ravenous over Little Debbie Snacks.

Leaning toward Amelia, I ask, “Want a drink?”

She looks over the different beers and says, “Purely for the name, I’m going to have to take a Raging Bitch.”

“Smart choice.” Tucker pulls out a bottle, pops the top off, and hands it to her. “We like a good Raging Bitch over here.”

“I need to remember that,” Emma counters as she crosses a leg.

I lean over to Tucker and say, “She is feisty tonight.”

He leans even closer. “Frankly, I’m happy you called because I was feeling a little terrified. She’s hyped up and mentioned to me on the way over here something about my cock being gobbled up tonight.”

“Shit.” I chuckle. “What the hell are you doing here then?”

He leans even closer and says, “She made chomping noises, man. I’m giving her a bit to cool down, maybe pass out from a sugar-induced coma.”

“Are you talking about me over there?” Emma asks, her mouth full of Swiss Roll. She thumbs in our direction and talks to Amelia. “These two, they gossip like old hens. The amount of times I’ve caught Tucker talking to Smalls on the phone, lying across our bed with his feet up in the air is ridiculous.”

“That never happened.” Tucker leans over to reassure we don’t act like two teenage girls.

“Smalls?” Amelia squints. “Is that supposed to be you?”

“Yeah.” I take a sip from my Raging Bitch bottle. “Tucker and Racer call me that to make themselves feel less inferior.”

“Yup.” Tucker rolls his eyes again and leans back in his chair. “That’s exactly why.” He studies the street and asks, “Where are all the kids? I thought this street would be jam-packed. We get maybe two trick-or-treaters at our house and that’s only because they’re on their way to your street.”

I look at my watch. “It’s only a little after five. Just wait, five thirty will roll around and we’ll be swarmed.”

“I’m kind of excited to see the hordes of kids you speak of. I grew up here and never knew about such a special street.”

“See what happens when you leave? Things change.”

Amelia glances at my chest and licks her lips, her eyes burning straight to my core. “They sure do.”

Fuck. That little look and comment woke me up.

“Why did you come back?” Emma asks, opening another Swiss Roll. If I wasn’t so happy about her question right now, I would be mad about her commandeering the rolls. I have yet to probe Amelia about her reasons to come back, what she’s doing, and how long she plans on staying. Hell, I’m happy I get to see her more often, so there’s no way I’m about to scare her away with a bunch of nosey questions I’m sure she doesn’t want to answer.

Keeping my eyes cast down, seeming casual as possible, I listen intently while busying myself with swirling the candy around again. Don’t seem too eager to hear why, be cool.

“My dad is having problems.”

I know that, and fuck if I don’t want to know what kind of problems. I connected with Marvin the instant we met. He’s the kind of man I look up to, admire, and it had been like finding a dad I never really had. When I broke up with Amelia, I also felt the acute loss of her dad’s input in my life, and now, knowing he’s not doing well, fuck, my gut churns. Please ask more, Emma, please be drunk enough to not sense Amelia’s tone.

“Oh no, that’s terrible. What happened?”

I’m buying Emma all the pretty things. I don’t care what Tucker says.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Amelia spotting a glance in my direction, but I keep my eyes cast on the candy. Don’t make any sudden moves.

“He has dementia. Had a pretty bad fall and is struggling now. He has his good days and bad days. Today was a bad day.”

And there’s my fucking answer about why she was crying earlier. A part of me hopes she is opening up to Emma to indirectly feed me information she wants me to know. High hopes right there, but a guy can dream.

And dementia? Shit. Mrs. Ferguson told me that when she told me about Amelia’s arrival. Way to go, Aaron. Marvin struggling with such a disease is mind-boggling to me. He got around slowly when Amelia and I were together, but this is horrible. Hell, I lost the love of my life breaking up with Amelia, but now that I know this, I hate that I wasn’t there for him during this change in his life. It just about kills me.

I can’t imagine what Amelia must be feeling, what’s going through her mind. She’s always been so close to her father, so to see him slowly pull away must be killing her.

Before Emma can answer, I turn my head and try to convey kindness in my eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

She gives me a sad smile and shrugs her shoulder. “Such is life.”

“It’s commendable for you to come here. Are you liking your new job? What do you actually do?”

God, you would think I gave Emma a list of questions to ask Amelia, but I did no prepping whatsoever.

The shift in conversation from her ailing father to her job brightens her mood. She sits a little taller in her seat. “I’m a counselor at the high school. It’s what I always wanted to do.” That’s a truth I know all too well. She wanted to stay in Binghamton with me, and I wanted her to pursue her master’s degree at Columbia, where she was accepted on partial scholarship. It’s the positive I’m clinging to: I did the right thing; she’s doing what she always wanted to do.

Emma leans forward, intrigued. “That must be fun. What kind of stuff do you talk about? Is it petty stuff like Sally stuffs her bra with socks to get all the boys’ attention?”

Tucker chuckles to himself while resting back in his chair, clearly enjoying his wife’s prodding.

“Sometimes, but a lot of the times it’s serious stuff and I’m glad I can help them.”

“Like what?” Emma takes a sip of her soda. Thankfully Tucker has cut her off.

“Drug abuse, wanting to have sex, coming out to parents. I have some heavy conversations that amaze me, because when I was young, I don’t think I would have gone to the school counselor for anything.”

Me either, even though teachers urged me to many times. But hell, if Amelia had been my school counselor, I would have gone to see her every damn day.

“Wow, that’s crazy. When I was in high school, my biggest worry was cleaning up after my friends.”

Tucker leans over and gives Emma a kiss on the temple and holds her hand, lacing their fingers together. What I wouldn’t fucking give to do the same thing to Amelia right now. “That’s because we were causing all the commotion.”

“Oh, you knew each other in high school?” Amelia asks, pointing to the two of them. “Ahh, are you high school sweethearts?”

Emma and Tucker exchange glances and smile. “Not quite . . .”

For the next ten minutes, before the trick-or-treaters arrive, Tucker and Emma—mostly Emma—recount their “love story.” The whole time, Tucker beams at Emma, kisses her hand, and loves every second of the telling. Even though there were some dark parts of the story, in the end it all worked out.

“What about you, anyone special in your life?” Emma asks just as trick-or-treaters start to arrive.

I already know the answer to this question, so I’d rather not hear it again, but hell, maybe she’ll divulge more information than I already know.

Between handing out candy to a lot of mini superheroes, Amelia answers, “Yeah, I have a boyfriend. His name is Trey. He lives in the city right now, but is hoping to relocate soon.”

Wouldn’t that just be special, living next to my brother and my ex-girlfriend, watching them play house being all cute and shit? Fucking. Great.

Yeah, I might have to move.

“I hope he finds a job soon.” When I’m about to give Emma an evil eye, she shakes her head as if to say she didn’t mean that. She’s in fine form tonight, that’s for sure.

Soon, droves of children start to show up, keeping us rather busy. We start tallying up the number of Trolls, Batmans, Lego men, and princesses we see. The most popular costume? Batman and Superwoman with the fabrics and accessories varying from child to child. But my favorite so far is the girl who dressed as Little Debbie, but then again, I may be biased.

“I think she might be my new favorite,” Emma says as a little girl dressed as a nurse walks away.

“That’s because you’re a nurse, but you can’t play favorites,” I say, reminding Emma of the rules.

She levels with me. “This coming from the guy whose favorite child was dressed as Little Debbie.”

“Come on.” I lean back in my chair and motion to my head. “She had the rim of blue on her hat. That’s attention to detail.”

“And good fucking parenting,” Tucker chimes in, and we clink our beer bottles together.

Amelia chuckles next to me as Emma shakes her head. “Ridiculous. What about you, Amelia? What costume has been your favorite so far?”

“Hmm, it’s been a tough competition. There has been some real winning costumes and some absolute piss-poor ones.” She shakes her head. “Just because you put a scarf around your neck and call yourself Jack Frost doesn’t mean you dressed up.”

“Ugh, that costume was dumb.”

“It shouldn’t be referred to as a costume, but that’s beside the point.” I like how much Amelia is getting into this little pretend competition. She’s a far cry from the girl who first came home earlier. I love that having Tucker and Emma over has given me more time with Amelia, getting to know the woman she is today, but also managed to put that beautiful smile back on her face.

“So who takes the cake for you?” I ask, nudging her leg with mine.

Smiling up at me, she says, “Hands down it’s the little boy who dressed as Dwight Schrute from The Office. I think I giggled for five minutes straight after he left. That costume was spot on.”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” I reply as Emma and Tucker agree with me. “He even had the watch calculator.”

“And the small nose Dwight always complains about.” Emma chuckles. “Yeah, he has to be the winner.”

“Now, now, now, let’s not get too hasty. Little Debbie is still in the running,” Tucker points out.

Amelia leans forward, seeming incredibly comfortable, and says, “There is no way Little Debbie beats Dwight. Sorry, dude.”

The shocked look on Tucker’s face is comical. He’s just been put in his place and the old Amelia has returned.

I fucking love it.

***

“That’s the last of it. Thanks for helping me bring in everything.”

“Well, you’ve helped me anytime I have bags in my trunk, so it’s the least I can do.”

I nod, feeling a little unsure of what to do or say. I want to hug her, I want to pull her into my chest and thank her for spending some time with my friends, for opening up, for showing me the lighter side of her again. I want to ask more about her dad, about her job, about my fucking brother . . . sort of. But I don’t do any of those things, instead I nod at her house and say, “I’ll walk you back to your house.”

“It’s like two feet away. I think I can make it, Aaron.”

“Yeah, and it’s late on Halloween. You never know what kind of creep is lurking around. Just humor me, all right?”

She exhales loudly, putting on a bit of a disgruntled show as she says, “Fine.”

“Don’t sound too excited,” I joke.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being cautious.”

The walk takes us no more than twenty seconds, but I’m desperate for any extra moments I can steal with her.

“See, told you I’d be fine.” She turns toward me and presses her back against her door as she folds her arms over her chest.

I stick my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “That’s because I was walking with you. I scared the creeps away with all my muscles.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that was it,” she says sarcastically and then looks out to the street. A flash of a smile crosses her face. “I had fun tonight; thanks for taking my mind off everything.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” I ask with a little shrug. The word friend feels bitter coming off my tongue but friends first. I need to gain her trust, then I can make a move.

“Friends, huh?” She gives me a once-over.

“Yeah. You can never have too many friends.”

“Even if they’re ex-boyfriends?”

I chuckle. “Those are the best kind of friends.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She laughs and lightly shakes her head. “Never thought I would be your friend, Aaron. I always thought there was more to us.”

It’s the first time she’s really brought up the past, and I do everything possible to refrain from hopping down memory lane. I want her to have good memories of me, not bad ones.

“I’ve always been your friend, Amelia. First and foremost, always a friend.” She doesn’t seem to be happy with that response as she looks away, so I force her to look me in the eye by taking her chin in my hand. I step forward, feeling the heat of us in close proximity. No matter how much time has passed, I think there will always be a spark when it comes to us. It’s undeniable. “I want you to know one thing, okay?” She nods and swallows as I step closer. With my hand still on her chin, I look her square in the eyes. “Despite everything that happened between us, I did and always will do anything for you, and I mean fucking anything. You matter to me, more than you’ll ever understand.”

I release her and take a step back. Even in the dark, I notice the heave of her chest and the bewilderment etched in her face. How could she not know that? Why does she doubt me?

Maybe because I broke her heart without any explanation.

I fucked everything up—understatement—but now I wonder if she’s come back here for a reason? Maybe the chapter of Aaron and Amelia hasn’t quite finished, and what the hell if I’m not going to take advantage of it. I have to be patient. I will earn her trust in time, but for now, I need to be her friend. Despite how hard that’s going to be for me.