Chapter 2 #2
If anything, her only sin here is naivety. In her blind faith that I’m not as hopeless a case that deep down, past my fabulous exterior, we all know I am.
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour,” Tillie says with a squeeze of my shoulder, snapping me from my thoughts. Having not seemed to notice anything amiss, she hands my suitcase off to Walt for him to take upstairs, and with a bright smile, begins leading me around the main level.
I clutch my backpack, trailing her steps dutifully, nodding and smiling and commenting when deemed appropriate.
When we’re about to exit the living room, blue light radiating from the corner catches my eye. And all lingering doubts and questions that followed me through the house fade into the background. My excitement returning.
Lips rising, I rush over to the tank. “You have fish?” I crouch and dart my eyes around, searching for movement between the plants.
Tillie sidles up next to me, mirroring my position.
“Just one. An angelfish.” She points to the back left corner, where a black and yellow striped fish the size of my palm swims out from behind a rock.
“We’ve had a couple tetras and goldfish over the years, but they’ve all died, and we just never got around to replacing them. ”
“Do you think he killed them?” I say, tilting my head as I stare at its beady little eye.
Tillie laughs softly. “No, it’s not likely.
Angels only get aggressive when they’re feeling threatened, and we made sure to only get fish that they’re compatible with, who let him rule the tank.
It’s why they don’t recommend having more than one.
They can be very territorial. And you definitely shouldn’t house them with bettas.
Something we learned the hard way when we brought this guy home. ”
“Did he eat them?”
She glances my way, blue eyes glittering with amusement. They practically glow and ripple from the reflection of the tank. “No, they’re over there.” I follow the kick of her chin to where a smaller tank sits atop a short bookcase. “We separated them before they could do too much damage.”
My eyes widen. “The bettas?”
She nods.
“But they’re so tiny…” I say in awe, glancing back at the angelfish currently weaving its way between strands of grass.
“And yet, see that silvery discoloration on his left side?”
“They did that?”
“One of them did.”
I smile at that. So fierce!
“Does he have a name?”
“Freddie.”
“Freddie?”
Smirking, she stands to her full height. “Freddie Mercury actually.” She gestures for me to follow her back down the hall. “Eden named him. He was ten at the time and was going through a Queen phase.” She lowers her voice and gives me a conspiratorial wink. “But don’t tell him I told you that.”
Before returning to the front of the house, she points out the door leading to the basement.
“One day, we’ll get around to going through my mother-in-law’s things.
God knows, she kept everything. But if you can find your way through the maze, there’s a treadmill and heavy bag if you ever feel like working out. ”
I make a face and look down at myself. “Are you trying to tell me something?” If anything, I need to put on weight, not lose it.
She laughs, patting my shoulder as she steers me back toward the hall. “Exercise is good for the mind.”
“Pass.”
She just shakes her head and takes us back to the front of the house. As I suspected, the room to the left of the front door is Walter’s lair—Tillie’s word of choice, not mine. She doesn’t take me in there, just mentions it.
“He’s a very private person,” she tells me halfway up the stairs, turning her head just enough so she can roll her eyes at me. “He’s like our son that way.”
“So, what you’re saying is, don’t go snoopin’ around?” I say as sweetly and innocently as ever.
At the top, she levels me with a narrowed, humored look. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Aston.” She points out the bathroom, the linen closet, and her and Walt’s bedroom at one end of the hall. “Walt and I have our own private ensuite, so this bathroom here is all yours and Eden’s.”
Down the other end of the hall where she leads me, there are two rooms facing each other.
Tillie pauses and turns to face me. “We respect privacy around here, Aston. Just as Walt’s study and Eden’s room is off-limits—unless invited in of course—so too is your bedroom.
No one enters without permission, okay? Your things will be left alone.
” Her mouth quirks and she steps back, not waiting for a response.
Waving me on ahead, toward a door that’s been left open a few inches, she says, “Go on.”
Brushing past her, I push the door open all the way, revealing a perfectly square bedroom twice the size of my room back at Ashwood.
And that’s not the only thing that’s been doubled. For the first time in my life, I get to sleep on a mattress that isn’t a twin. One that looks to be at least twice the thickness of all the beds I can remember.
Stepping inside, I drop my gaze to the carpet.
Gray and soft-looking, it looks like it’s been vacuumed recently.
It’s a couple shades darker than the painted walls, which are bare, with the exception of where there’s a window facing the street.
It overlooks a black, sloped roof that is partially obscured by the thick branches of a tree.
“We’ll go shopping tomorrow, and get you some curtains, bedding of your choosing…clothes…”
I start to smile, but then I remember—
“I don’t have any money.”
“Don’t worry about that right now.”
Well, if you insist…
Resuming my exploration of my new living quarters, I finally set my backpack down, dropping it on the bed as I make my way over to the closed closet doors. Walt is nowhere to be seen, but my suitcase sits against the wall where he must’ve parked it before heading back downstairs.
Throwing the bi-fold doors open, I sweep my gaze over the empty space, taking in the racks and hangers and shoe cubby just waiting to be filled up.
Meanwhile, from the hall, just outside my door, there’s a soft knock, followed by Tillie’s muffled voice. “Eden? Can you come out here?”
The closet and room’s potential forgotten, I whirl around just as I hear the muffled click and creak of a door opening. Straightening to my full height, I wipe my palms on my jeans, and give myself a nod of encouragement. Don’t be lame.
I’m not sure what I was expecting. But the skinny, slouched, greasy-haired boy shuffling awkwardly behind Tillie in ripped jeans and a t-shirt so big, it reaches his thighs, and a look of complete and utter boredom stamped across his face, is not exactly giving killer queen.
I suppose I was just imagining someone a little more…put together? Maybe cool like Tillie with funky colored hair. Or a septum piercing.
Not that I’m judging!
Biting my lip, I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers at him in a wave.
His brows slam together, and he side-eyes Tillie with a look I can’t decipher.
“Eden,” she says, squeezing his shoulder, “this is Aston. Aston…I’d like you to meet my son, Eden.”
The boy’s lips twist when he meets my gaze once more, and he kicks his narrow chin up in one of those silent sup, mans I’ve seen exchanged between the guys back at Ashwood.
So, I mimic it.
Supppppp.
And again, his face gets all twisted up. But this time, he quickly drops his gaze to the ground.
Oh well, A for effort and all.
Tillie claps her hands together, and I don’t miss Eden’s little flinch. Frowning, I only half pay attention to Tillie going on about dinner, as I wonder what that’s about.
He can’t be….scared of her.
This woman couldn’t hurt a fly.
“Aston?”
I snap my gaze to Tillie’s, eyes rounding. “Yeah?”
Her lips purse, and she spares a glance at Eden who shifts foot to foot, once more looking down at the floor. This time, though, he’s got his head fully tipped forward, making it so his long brown hair curtains his face, hiding whatever he might be thinking.
“I asked if you had any preference for toppings? I’m going to order a couple trays from Dino’s.”
“I’m good with whatever.”
She arches a knowing brow, silently calling me out on my bullshit.
I sigh dramatically. “Fine. Extra cheese.” As if she doesn’t already know this…
Grinning, she looks down at her son. “See? You two already have something in common.” I don’t miss how his shoulders stiffen at her words. “Extra cheese is what he always gets too.”
I narrow my eyes. She did that on purpose. Sneaky, sneaky…
“I’ll go do that while you get settled and get to know each other.”
And then she’s gone.
And it’s just the two of us.
Alone.
Cocking my head, I watch curiously as Eden doesn’t immediately bolt like I’m expecting.
Is he waiting for me to say something?
I dimly notice Tillie’s fading footsteps. When she descends the steps, I strain my ears, waiting for a creak that never comes.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or not.
Eden must have been doing the same thing as me—listening. Waiting. Only I don’t think it’s for the same reason as me.
When he turns to leave without a word, I find myself lurching forward. “Wait!”
Shockingly, he obeys.
With his back to me, he hovers just inside the threshold. “What?” he says in a quiet, clipped voice.
Locked in place, I look aimlessly about the room, and mouth, What the fuck do I say? as if the furniture might have the answer. I didn’t really plan this far ahead.
With a sigh, Eden twists to look over his shoulder, face bunched in a scowl. Eyes slitted. “I didn’t agree to this.”
I blink. “Okay? Good to know?”
He curls his lip in disgust, clearly not very impressed with me. Rude!
I cock my head, studying him more closely. Either Tillie conveniently left out the more…colorful aspects that make up moi. Or this kid has even less self-preservation than her.
Mumbling something under his breath, he looks down, his hair swinging forward to cover his face.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” With a huff, he all but stomps across the short distance between our rooms.
Grabbing the knob of my door, I watch as Eden turns to face me just inside the threshold of his room, mirroring my position.
“Just…stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” His eyes darken, cheeks flushing, and he glances down, thick lashes framing his high cheekbones. “And whatever you do, don’t you dare come in this room and touch my shit.”
And with that, he slams the door shut, not even attempting to be quiet about it.
A second later, music kicks on, loud, angry, and bass-heavy, vibrating the walls.
I wait a beat to see if Walt or Tillie will rush up here to demand what’s going on, but when I hear not a peep, I quietly close my door, before whipping around to face my new room, alone at last.
A slow, manic grin stretches across my face.
“Welcome home, Aston,” I whisper.