9. Amelia
Chapter nine
Amelia
I flipped the pancake with a flourish, admiring my culinary masterpiece. Blueberry eyes and a banana nose grinned up at me from the griddle, looking far too chipper for this hour on a Sunday morning. The kitchen smelled like a delicious collision between a coffee shop and a butter factory.
My mind drifted to yesterday's "walk" with Trevor and Hero. That furry little matchmaker had somehow managed to turn our park outing into an impromptu game of human pretzel. Not that I was complaining about ending up nose-to-nose with Trevor. Of course, Kevin had to rain on our parade. Honestly, sometimes I think my brother's life mission is to single-handedly spoil all my fun.
But today was going to be different. No overprotective big brothers allowed—just me, Trevor, and Addy knee-deep in butterfly chaos. Sure, Trevor's military precision might clash with my "let's wing it and see what happens" approach, but they say opposites attract—maybe there is something to the saying after all.
The doorbell chimed, causing me to jump and nearly drop the spatula. When I opened the door, Addy was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Auntie Amelia! Are the caterpillars here yet? Can I name them?"
Emily's smile looked a bit strained as she leaned in close. "Kevin's still in full grumpy bear mode about you and Trevor. Apparently, some gossip from the high school days is making the rounds at the station."
Great. There is nothing like a decade-old reputation to spice up a new relationship. I plastered on my best "everything's fine" smile for Addy's sake.
"Well, Emily, people change. Look at me—I used to think mixing plaids and stripes was fashionable."
Emily snorted. "I'll work on Kevin. Maybe I can get him to dial down the 'protective big brother' act from an eleven to a solid seven."
As she left, I turned to Addy. "Who's ready for some funny-face pancakes?"
Addy giggled, racing to the kitchen. I followed, pushing aside the nagging worry. Trevor wasn't that hotheaded teenage rebel anymore. He was a man who had served his country, a firefighter, and a devoted dog dad. And if I had anything to do with it, my soon-to-be official boyfriend. Kevin would not dampen my mood.
I flipped a pancake onto a plate and gave it to Addy. The golden face seemed to wink at me as if sharing a secret joke.
The doorbell chimed again, and my heart skipped a beat. There stood Trevor looking unfairly handsome for someone who probably got up at the crack of dawn to do push-ups, save kittens from trees, or whatever it is disgustingly fit firefighters do on Sunday mornings.
"Something smells amazing," he said, sniffing the air appreciatively. "Please tell me there's coffee involved."
I pulled him inside and led him to the kitchen table, grinning like a kid with a secret. "Only the finest funny face pancakes for our caterpillar enclosure day!”
Hero trotted in behind us, settling on his usual spot on the rug with a contented huff.
Addy, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's, sprang from her seat and barreled towards Trevor. "When do we start the butterfly project?" she mumbled around her mouthful of pancakes.
I crouched down to her level. "Well, sweat pea. First, we finish breakfast. Then we will make a cozy home for the caterpillars."
Addy's jaw dropped. "Like a princess castle?"
Trevor caught my eye, a mischievous glint in his. "Exactly. But with more leaves, fewer towers."
Addy nodded solemnly and marched back to her seat, attacking her pancake with renewed vigor.
"Oh!" I clapped my hands, struck by inspiration. "We could paint it like a magical garden. Flowers, vines, the works!"
"Can we use glitter?" Addy bounced in her seat.
"Of course!" I turned to Trevor, daring him to object. "What's a butterfly garden without sparkle?"
Trevor mumbled something like, "Doesn’t sound very safe for the caterpillars."
His eyes met mine, a mix of amusement and concern. "Maybe we build the structure before we bedazzle it? I think that safety trumps pretty."
Addy and I exchanged a look and burst into giggles. His practicality was both frustrating and oddly charming.
After breakfast, we trooped out to the garden where I'd set up our workstation. Addy zeroed in on the container of caterpillars, her face scrunched in concentration.
"This one should be named Sir Fuzzy McWiggles," she declared, pointing at a particularly plump caterpillar. "And this one can be Princess Leaf-a-lot!"
I bit back a smile, wondering how long it would take before she ran out of names. But Trevor, it seemed, was just getting started.
"Well, if we're going for royalty, how about King Crawly the Magnificent?" He gestured grandly at a caterpillar inching its way up a leaf.
Addy giggled, clapping her hands. "Ooh, ooh! And this one can be Queen Munchie!"
Not to be outdone, Trevor pointed at another. "That's Colonel Crawly von Inchworm, the bravest of the bunch."
Their naming ceremony grew increasingly ridiculous until I couldn't hold back anymore. A most unladylike snort escaped me.
Trevor's eyes crinkled with laughter. "Amelia, I had no idea you were fluent in Caterpillar-ese."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. "It's a little-known talent."
"Oh really?" His grin widened. "What other secrets are you keeping?"
I grabbed a wooden plank, deflecting his teasing. "Alright, you two. Let's build this palace before our royal residents get impatient."
Trevor joined me at the workstation, his focus shifting to careful measurements and precise cuts. I couldn't help but admire his dedication—and maybe his forearms a little bit, too.
We toiled away under the afternoon sun, sawdust clinging to us like a second skin. Addy, our self-appointed foreman, perched on a step stool, barking orders with all the authority a nine-year-old could muster.
As I climbed the ladder to attach the netting, my foot slipped. My heart leaped into my throat, but before I could channel my inner acrobat, Trevor's hands were on my waist, steadying me.
I glanced over my shoulder, suddenly very aware of how close he was. Those brown eyes of his had flecks of gold in them. How had I never noticed that before?
"You good?" His voice was low, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear of falling.
Before I could remember how words worked, Addy's voice shattered the moment. "We need to put the caterpillars through boot camp!"
We finished attaching the mesh, but my skin still tingled where Trevor had touched me.
"Attention, cadets!" Addy's high-pitched voice rang out across the garden. "It's time for your training course!"
She marched back and forth in front of the caterpillar container with a stern expression. The caterpillars, oblivious to her commands, continued to munch on the leaves.
"First, you must crawl through the Tunnel of Terror!" she said, pointing to a small gap between two leaves.
Trevor's arm slipped around my shoulders, his chuckle rumbling through me. "We better retreat before she drafts us into her caterpillar corps."
We escaped to the porch, where Hero waited behind his gate until we could figure out how he kept escaping. He looked both confused and impressed by Addy's display.
"Auntie Amelia, I'm starving!" Addy declared, apparently having exhausted both herself and her caterpillar cadets.
I cleared my throat, reluctantly stepping away from Trevor. "Time to head to Grammy and Pop-pop's, kiddo."
Trevor nodded, his eyes holding mine a beat longer than necessary. "We'll finish the decorations another day."
As we packed up, my mind buzzed with the day's events. But beneath the warm, fuzzy feelings, Kevin's words plagued me. Could I trust my heart to a man with a troubled past? Or was I setting myself up for the world's worst heartbreak?
The drive to my parents' house was a blur, my mind a chaotic tangle of emotions. Addy's cheerful chatter from the backseat was like background music to my internal soap opera.
As we stepped into my parents' house, I breathed in the scent of Mom's cooking. Dad playfully ruffled Addy's hair, momentarily lifting my spirits. But as Addy launched into her epic tale of caterpillar boot camp, I snuck off to the kitchen for some liquid therapy—aka, a cup of tea.
Mom, with her superhuman mom-sense, followed me. "Spill it, honey. What's got you looking like you just found a slug in your salad?"
I groaned, slumping into a kitchen chair. "It's the Kevin-Trevor-Me triangle of doom."
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like a bad geometry problem."
"Kevin's gone full protective-brother mode," I sighed. "He totally embarrassed me at the park, claiming that Trevor is trouble and not good enough for me."
"And what does Trevor think about all this?"
"That's the thing—he doesn't know what Kevin said. Kevin ambushed me privately, but his disapproval radiated like a neon sign." I fiddled with my teacup. "I told Trevor I didn't care what anyone thought, but... I really want Kevin's support. Is it crazy to think Trevor deserves a second chance?"
Dad's voice made me jump. He snuck into the kitchen like a ninja. "People change. From what I have heard that boy has come a long way from his troubled teen days."
I chewed my lip. "You think so?"
Dad wrapped an arm around Mom. "Kevin's just being a protective big brother. But at the end of the day, it's your heart, Amelia. You get to decide who's worthy of it."
"Thanks, Dad," I murmured, feeling a little lighter.
"Now," Dad grinned, "let's go rescue the cookie jar from Addy."
Later, as I climbed into my car, my phone buzzed with a message from Trevor: " Today was amazing, Caterpillar Queen. I can't wait for our next adventure. Sweet dreams. "
I stared at the screen, torn between giddy excitement and lingering doubt. But as I pulled into my driveway, a thought struck me like a lightning bolt. If Trevor and I were meant to be, we'd find a way through this mess. And if Kevin truly cared about my happiness, he'd come around... eventually.
With a deep breath, I typed a reply: " Today was perfect, Colonel Crawly. Here's to future adventures and sweet dreams. "
As I hit send, a sense of peace washed over me. Who knew? Maybe our love story would change Kevin's mind and prove that sometimes, the most unexpected connections last a lifetime. Or Maybe my big brother would end up saying I told you so.