William remained distant the entire ride home, not uttering a single word. I didn't want to force him to open up if he wasn't ready, but I also couldn't hide my disappointment at the day's turn of events. I honestly thought today would be fun and adventurous. It ended up being slightly disastrous instead. However, Charlie didn't seem to notice the awkwardness in the air and contently played his video game in the back seat. We stopped briefly at Kohl's so William could pick out a few additional pieces of clothing for work, but neither of us spoke while inside the department store. He quickly grabbed a few pairs of jeans, some boxer briefs, and some tee shirts.

When I parked the car outside of the halfway house, William mumbled a brief thank you, grabbed his new belongings and headed toward the front doors. Charlie called out goodbye, and William nodded and waved.

As much as I wanted to help William and comfort him, I knew he needed his space more than anything. I drove away as soon as William unlocked the door and disappeared into the halfway house, his new home.

Once I unlocked the door to our apartment, Charlie ran off to play in his room as per usual.

"Charlie!" I called out.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"I need to make a phone call. Play in your room for a little bit, okay?"

"’Kay!"

I stepped out onto my balcony and closed the door behind me. A frigid chill hung in the air, but I wanted to call William in private. Despite my best efforts to leave him be, I needed to know if he was okay.

“Hello?" I heard him sigh loudly on the other end of the call.

"Are you okay?” I sensed him building his wall back up, maybe higher than ever.

"I don't want to talk about it,” he said coldly.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I hate seeing you like this.”

For the most part, in my life, if there was a problem, I fixed it. If Charlie fell off his bike, I cleaned up the wound. If a client at work had a problem, I took on the case. William? I had no idea what to do or how to help him. It felt like every time I tried to get close to him, he pushed me away.

“Yeah, well, I hate feeling like this.”

“Feeling like what?” My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

“Like I don’t deserve this second chance.”

“You of all people deserve a second chance,” I urged and wished he realized this, too.

"I don't know how to handle this," he said.

"Handle what?" I asked softly.

"All of this. This halfway house, the new stuff, the job. You're too nice to me. I don't deserve any of it."

"William, you’ve had a hard time, and life didn't go your way for a while, but I'm doing all this because I care about you. I don't pity you or feel bad for you. I genuinely want to help you start over and get your life back."

"Why do you care so much, though?” His voice broke.

"I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other really well. I genuinely care about you, and I want you in my life. I want to help you any way I can. And please stop saying you don't deserve this. You deserve all the good things life has to offer."

"Well, please don't buy me anything else. I want to be able to provide for myself going forward."

“Okay, I’ll back off. But I’m here if you need anything,” I said genuinely. I wished more than anything he’d let me help him. I wanted him to know how much I cared. Even though he hadn’t meant to, he weaseled his way into my heart.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it, even if I don’t always act like I do.”

"Everyone needs a helping hard at first. I just happen to have two helping hands to give you.” I hoped he heard the smile in my voice.

“I’m happy I met you, Amelia,” he said quietly.

“Me, too.”

We didn’t talk for a few moments, then I changed the subject. "Big day tomorrow.”

"Yup."

"You ready to start work again?” I asked cheerfully.

"I think so. I’m kinda nervous, though."

"You're going to do great," I reassured him.

"That’s what I thought at my last few jobs."

“May I ask what happened?”

“Well, a few of them were construction jobs. You know, under the table gigs? The loud noises and fast pace weren’t for me,” he trailed off.

I thought back to when I woke him up and he pulled out a knife. I could only imagine the dark thoughts clouding his mind. It didn’t take an expert psychologist to understand some jobs simply wouldn’t be a good fit for him. I hoped this maintenance job would be different.

"I'm making dinner tonight. Would you care to join us?"

“I think they serve dinner here,” William said slowly.

“Well, Charlie and I would love to have you over here. I can send a Lyft for you?”

“Sure. I just need to shower first.”

* * *

William whipped together a delicious helping of spaghetti for Charlie and me, and I have to admit, it was nice having someone cook for me for a change. Even though I said I’d cook, William took over kitchen duties for the evening. He even let Charlie help pour the sauce and stir it all together. William apologized to Charlie for acting distant earlier and promised to make it up to him by playing whichever game he wanted on XBox. As soon as Charlie heard, "XBox" he forgot about the day's turn of events and dove toward his controller.

Once dinner was ready, though, I reminded Charlie to turn the XBox off, and we all sat together at the kitchen table. It felt wonderful to have a sort-of family dinner again. Cal, Charlie and I had our last meal as a family a very long time ago. I'd forgotten how nice it was to sit at the table, sip wine and have company. Soft jazz crooned from the speakers in the background while snow gently fell from the sky.

"Mama said you're a soldier," Charlie said as he slurped a noodle.

"Manners, Charlie."

"Sorry, Mama."

"Your Mom wasn't lying, but I'm not in the Army anymore."

"What happened?” Charlie asked.

I held my breath and glanced at William, then Charlie and back again.

"You want to know?” William asked skeptically.

"Yeah!"

"I was an infantry soldier," William said.

"Cool, what kinds of stuff did you do?"

I watched as William breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

"Charlie, I think we should talk about something else."

"Did you kill people?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Charlie!"

"It's okay, Amelia," William interjected. "I don't mind."

"Well, it's not an appropriate conversation at the dinner table."

"Your mother's right. Sorry, kid. Maybe another time." Tension slid off his shoulders like ice.

"Aw! Come on, Mom! I just want to know this one thing!"

"Not today, Charlie," I said with my "mom" voice.

"You're no fun." He pouted.

"I know I'm the meanest mom in town, huh? And, since I'm so mean, I guess you don't want me to make brownies for dessert."

"Brownies?" His eyes lit up.

"Too bad," I feigned.

"No, Mom! You're cool! Now please make brownies."

I giggled and collected the dirty dishes. "Fine, but you gotta help with the dishes."

"Anything for brownies."

William and I shook our heads.

Once the dishes were rinsed and put in the dishwasher with Charlie's help, I started the magical process of making my world-famous brownies. Okay, maybe they weren't "world-famous," but they always sold out at the school bake sales.

Charlie helped crack the eggs, which may or may not have been a huge mistake. He accidentally dropped three of them on the kitchen floor. William showed him how to crack an egg properly, and Charlie oohed and awwed once he'd done it himself.

"Mom, baking is fun!"

William poured the brownie batter into the pan and put it in the oven. There was still a respectable amount of batter in the mixing bowl, though, and William swiped the side with his pinky.

"This is my favorite part," he said.

"Hey, give me some of that batter!" I demanded with a smile.

William took the batter on his pinky and slowly brought it to my lips. I was about to put my mouth on his finger when he quickly moved it and wiped the batter on my nose.

"Hey!" I called out.

William burst into laughter, and it was the first time he ever grinned this broadly. His smile warmed my heart and left me wanting to leap into his arms. His happiness echoed around the kitchen, and suddenly, my apartment felt like a home.

In that moment, a different kind of happiness splashed inside my heart. All the time I spent with William, I knew we made great friends, but could there be something more to our story? Could we ever be something more? Yes, we came from different backgrounds, but were we all that different? We both loved our country; we both lost our fathers far too soon, and we enjoyed spending time together. Would that be enough? Would he ever see me as more than just a friend? There was also the fact I have a child. William only just started sleeping in a bed instead of a bench; he couldn’t be ready to be a stepfather yet.

He scraped more batter from the bowl, and I grabbed his hand so he couldn't trick me again. With a mischievous grin, I licked his finger clean.

William's face flushed, and his eyes bulged. My heart thudded against my rib cage and butterflies fluttered inside my belly. Was there something else here? There had to be!

"Yum!" My tongue darted out to clean off my lips as I shot him a dazzling smile.

“You’re crazy,” he whispered with a grin.

“Hopefully the good kind of crazy?” I asked hopefully.

“That’s debatable.” He winked.

We spent the rest of the evening cracking jokes, comparing favorite movies and books, and even managed to squeeze in a game of tag with Charlie. As William jumped over the sofa and alluded my desperate son around the living room, my heart filled to the brim with joy. Once Charlie finally caught William and tagged him, William charged after me, and I let him catch me.