Chapter 21
I t takes us awhile to get out to the highway because there are so many cars. We’re in Aiden’s gray truck and it’s stop and go all the way. But it’s a really good problem to have.
“I’ve never seen this place so busy,” Aiden says. He’s smiling.
“The festival was a great idea,” I reply.
He tips his head toward me. “Maybe, but you made it amazing.”
I wrap my arms over my middle as we fly down the highway.
Once again, it’s a beautiful October day.
The sky is bright blue. The air is crisp, and the trees shake in the breeze as their gorgeous bright leaves sail to the ground.
The highway is a kaleidoscope of color as we pass.
We drive into town and straight onto Main Street.
A couple of blocks past the hardware store, we turn down a cute little side street lined with small houses.
The street is adorable, with lots of orange, yellow, and red-leaved trees on either side and mums planted in pots on nearly every front porch.
It’s as if the entire road got together and agreed to be cute.
About halfway down, we pull into the driveway of a little white house with slate-blue shutters and a matching front door.
I stare at it. “This is your house?” The thing’s got a picket fence. A white picket fence. And the yard is filled with colorful leaves.
“Yeah.” He nods. “What do you think?”
I think it looks like a magazine shoot for fall in New England. I mean, a white picket fence . “Nice.”
“It’s a three-two,” he says. “About eighteen hundred square feet.”
“Eighteen hundred?” This is a mansion compared to most apartments in the city.
I climb out of the truck, and Aiden opens the gate.
I follow him along a cute little stone pathway in the grass to the front stoop, which is basically two stone steps with an overhang.
He’s got mums in a slate-blue wooden planter box, and there is a doorbell, a security camera, and a really cute little bronze knocker in the shape of a Labrador retriever. “Mom bought me that,” he tells me.
“It’s adorable,” I assure him.
“Not really what most grown men are going for, but I’ll take it.”
He punches a code into a pad near the handle, and the lock buzzes. He opens the door, and I step inside. It smells like apples inside. Because of course Aiden’s house smells like apples. It couldn’t be more perfect.
It’s neat as a pin in here. There are original hardwood floors, and a small wooden table along the wall next to the door.
Aiden tosses his keys into a wooden bowl atop the table.
There’s a decent-size living room to the right with a camel-colored leather couch, a big comfy-looking navy chair, a couple of end tables, and two floor lamps.
A big TV is mounted to one wall. And there’s a super-cozy-looking brick fireplace with a painting of Argos above it.
The man had his dog painted. Endearing, much?
“Want the tour?” Aiden asks.
“You bet I do.”
We walk beneath a rounded doorway into the kitchen.
It’s got stainless appliances and butcher-block counters.
The floors are also hardwood in here. The cabinets are white with black knobs, and the backsplash looks like Italian tile in a slate blue similar to the door and shutters.
There is a small dining room opposite the kitchen with a mid-century-modern table and four chairs.
We walk through the kitchen, and Aiden opens the back door to show me a super cute square of lawn with a grill and four wooden Adirondack chairs sitting around a paver-stone fire pit.
The white picket fence outlines the entire backyard, and there is an honest-to-goodness, Snoopy-looking doghouse.
It’s made of white wood panels with a dark-gray shingled roof. Aww. For Argos.
“Don’t worry. He sleeps in the bedroom with me,” Aiden says, as if he’s read my mind again.
When we step back into the kitchen, I nonchalantly peek into the pantry, because if stuff is organized the way Geoff had it, I’ve gotta make a run for it.
But, while tidy, the canned goods are mixed with the boxed goods, thank God. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That’s pretty much it,” Aiden says, leaning back against his kitchen counter.
I turn my head to face him. “Wait. What about the bedrooms?”
He tilts his head. “You want to see the bedrooms?”
“I mean... yeah. I thought I was getting the whole tour,” I say.
“This way,” he says.
I follow him down a narrow hallway between the kitchen and the living room to the back of the house.
The first bedroom is on the right. It’s pretty small, and he’s turned it into an office.
There’s a brown wooden desk. An office chair.
A patterned rug. And a computer. Everything is neat enough, but something seems off.
“Where is all your paperwork?” I finally ask. Who has an office with no paper?
He walks over to the closet and opens the double doors to reveal an impressive-looking storage system. There are drawers and doors and shelves all perfectly positioned. There’s a printer in there and a filing system with typed labels.
“Wow. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about this,” I tell him.
“What? Being organized is a good thing.”
“There’s organized, and then there’s organized . It’s like a UPS Store up in here.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he informs me. “I don’t even have a Styrofoam-peanut dispenser.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I say. “I’m fully jealous.” I could do some damage with this much office space. Seriously.
We leave the office and go to the next room on the right, which is another bedroom. This one has an actual bed in it. “The guest room,” Aiden says. “It doesn’t get much use. Sometimes Charlotte sleeps over if she drinks too much on game night.”
“Game night?”
“Our family has game night once a month. Mom and Dad come over, and we play Trivial Pursuit or whatever.”
“Trivial Pursuit?” The fact that his family has game night together is beyond, but I let it go. My mom has a room full of dolls. I am in no position to throw stones.
The queen-size bed is covered in pink sheets and a pink-and-white quilt.
“Did Charlotte pick out the bedding?” I ask. It looks like something she would like. Soft and feminine and homey.
“No,” Aiden says. But his voice is oddly clipped.
I turn away from the bed and face him, lifting my brows.
“Maryann picked it out,” he admits.
Ah, Maryann . His ex-girlfriend. I could pretend I didn’t do any recon, but that would be disingenuous of me. Instead, I opt for, “Your ex?”
He nods. “Yep. I just never changed it.”
“It’s pretty,” I tell him, and it really is. “I bet Charlotte loves it.” Then I take a deep breath, because he’s just given me the perfect opening. It’s time. “So, what happened with you and Maryann, exactly?”
He presses his lips together and looks a little pale. “I thought I told you. We wanted different things.”
“Pretty standard breakup reason,” I say, nodding. “Though I fully admit it’s better than being betrayed and fired.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” Aiden agrees.
“So, like, you wanted kids, and she didn’t?” I press. I know I’m being intrusive, but I want to know.
“Kinda the opposite,” Aiden says. “She wanted to go a little faster than I did.” He steps out of the bedroom and back into the hall. I am forced to follow him.
“Ahh, marriage?” I ask.
“Yeah. I wasn’t ready.”
I nod. It’s a solid reason for a breakup, and yet, I’m somewhat surprised by it. Aiden seems like the marriage, house, and kids type to me.
“Here’s my room,” he says, pushing open the door to the one bedroom on the left of the hallway. I guess we’re done discussing Maryann.
I step inside the room. It’s bigger than the others. There’s a king-size bed backed against a wood-paneled wall. The bed is covered in a blue-and-white comforter. The far wall is covered floor to ceiling with what looks like a custom-made bookshelf.
“Is that a ladder?” I ask, hurrying over to touch it. I’ve never actually seen a bookshelf with a ladder in person. I mostly live vicariously through Belle in the Beauty and the Beast movie. But here is one staring me in the face. I must approach.
“Yeah, I made it.”
“You made it?” It’s taking too long for this information to filter into my brain. I cock my head like a confused dog. This man made this bookshelf. With a ladder. For himself. In his house.
“I like to read,” he says.
“Yeah, I like to read too, but I can’t make a whole bookshelf.”
“I’m a woodworker.” He shrugs as if it’s no biggie.
Frankly, I could stay here and stare at the bookshelf all day, but there’s one thing I must do before I go. “Can I climb up it?”
“Go for it,” he replies, shrugging.
It’s a total scene out of a fairy tale.
I don’t wait. I hurry over, grab both sides of the wooden frame, and pull the ladder to the far end of the track. Then I start climbing. Once I’m at the top, I look down. “This is the coolest.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Aiden chuckles.
“Can you indulge me with one little thing?” I say, wincing and wrinkling up my nose. He may refuse my request, but on behalf of all library-loving women in the world, I gotta ask.
“What?” He’s eyeing me with something akin to suspicion.
“Can you pull me across the length of this thing?”
He laughs. “What? What are you, five?”
“I’m serious. Can I just get you to pull me across it? Like in one fell swoop.”
He shakes his head as he comes over, a bemused smile on his face. “Okay, hang on.”
I grab the sides of the ladder and squeal as he pulls it all the way down the length of the wall as if I weigh nothing. I throw out an arm, Belle-style, as I go, because some things need doing.
Moments later, I’m back on the floor standing next to Aiden, hopping up and down.
I am giddy. Giddy! “Thank you for doing that,” I say, laughing.
I can’t remember that last time I had such pure fun.
Like I was a kid again. And in that moment, I realize that the memories of fun I have from when I was a kid are mostly with Aiden.