Chapter 6 #2
And why? Because we haven’t done it before?
It’s not like I couldn’t spare the stock.
Sales of them vary from one year to the next, and several of the ones I put at ChristmasFest were left over from last year.
Plus, Jenna pulled me aside after the meeting where I finally agreed and mentioned that she’d budgeted to pay me for those trees.
“I know you usually donate the interior trees, but I also saw that you charge more for these. I don’t want you to come up short at the end of the season, and there’s room in the budget to pay your going rates.
I’ll happily accept your donation of the rest of the trees, but I’ll pay for the potted ones.
” And she wouldn’t take no for an answer, literally writing a check and mailing it despite my objections.
I end up just pulling up in front of Amelia’s house and sitting in my truck for a few minutes. I’m early, but I don’t want to go too far afield and end up late. But Amelia notices me, opens the door, and beckons me inside.
“There’s no reason for you to sit in your truck in the cold,” she calls when I sigh and climb out of my truck. She’d be annoyed with me if I ignored her or told her I’m fine, so I don’t bother trying to not come in.
“I’m really fine waiting,” I tell her anyway, even though I know she won’t believe me.
She just rolls her eyes. “We’re not enemies or anything, Aaron. If you’re early, you can come hang out until it’s time to go.”
I shrug, wiping my feet on the door mat before stepping inside. “I know. But you don’t get a ton of time with him. I don’t want to intrude.”
“While I appreciate your consideration, having you here for the last ten minutes before he leaves isn’t an intrusion.”
“Daddy!” yells Colin, barreling down the hallway straight at me like he hasn’t seen me in days instead of just a couple of hours.
“Hey, bud!” I catch him when he launches himself at me, easily sweeping him up. I’d normally turn him upside down or something, but there’s not a lot of room here in the front hall, so I just hoist him over my shoulder so his head hangs down my back.
He giggles riotously, and Amelia smiles, shaking her head at our antics. “Do you want something to eat? I made plenty,” she says, leading the way down the hall to her eat-in kitchen. “Nothing fancy. Just spaghetti.”
“Oh, I don’t—” but my stomach betrays me by rumbling. I should’ve gotten food while I was at the Red Arrow. I wasn’t hungry then, though.
Laughing, Amelia pulls a plate out of her cabinet and gives me a big scoop of spaghetti, ladles sauce over it, then holds up a container of grated parmesan.
At my nod, she sprinkles some on, finishes off the plate with a slice of garlic bread from the cutting board on the counter, then sets it at the table.
“It’s really yummy, Dad!” Colin assures me as I set him down. “Mom’s a good cook.”
“Thank you, Colin. That’s very sweet of you to say,” Amelia tells him before looking at me, “even if we both know your dad’s the better cook.”
I shrug off the compliment, focusing on my food. I like cooking. I find it relaxing, the way all the ingredients combine to make something tasty.
“Can I have more garlic bread?” Colin asks, thankfully deflecting attention from me.
“Of course,” Amelia answers at the same time I ask, “Did you eat more than just bread for dinner?”
She shoots me a look that’s equal parts amusement and a reminder that this is technically her parenting time right now, not mine.
“He ate a big plate of spaghetti plus apple slices as an appetizer. He tried a little of my salad too, even though he decided to stick with the apples. And he’s only had one piece of garlic bread.
I don’t blame him for wanting more, though.
It’s delicious. I don’t get it often, but when I was at the store today trying to figure out what to get for our dinner, I saw the loaf and decided to grab it.
Since I’m leaving early in the morning, I’ll send the leftovers home with you.
” Another pointed look. “And don’t tell me it’s unnecessary. You’d be doing me a favor.”
“Then we’re happy to help you out,” I say, digging into the spaghetti.
It’s simple, using a store-bought sauce mixed with ground meat—turkey, at a guess—but Colin’s right.
It hits the spot, especially when you realize you haven’t eaten in about six hours.
Between a large lunch and a busy afternoon, all I’ve had since one is a cup of coffee around three, and even that was four hours ago.
Amelia tells us about some of her travels, and I stay pretty quiet while she and Colin talk, focusing on eating quickly so I don’t overstay my welcome.
“Thank you for dinner, Mommy,” he says as he’s getting his shoes and coat on. “It was delicious. I can’t wait until you make dinner for me again!” He throws his arms around her waist, burying his face in her belly.
Smiling, she curls around him, one arm around his shoulders, the other caressing his sandy hair, a mix of her honey blonde and my medium brown. “I always love having you over for dinner, baby. I can’t wait until next time too.”
“Thanks for dinner,” I add, waiting while Colin carefully zips his coat.
“You’re welcome. Thanks for the extra night tonight. And for working with me about Christmas. I appreciate your flexibility.”
I nod, and reach for the doorknob. Colin waves, and says, “Bye, Mommy!” over his shoulder as he leads the way out.
When I glance back at Amelia, I see she has tears in her eyes. She catches me watching and blinks, sniffing and smiling. “I just can’t believe how big he’s getting. It feels like he’s grown up so fast, and I’ve missed so much.”
So many thoughts flicker through my head at that statement—this is what you wanted, you chose this, your career keeps you away—but I keep them all to myself.
Instead, I offer her a sympathetic smile and say, “Time really flies. It feels like he was a little toddler just learning his first words last week. And now he’s almost halfway done with kindergarten. He’ll be six before we know it!”
She sniffs and nods. “Thanks again, Aaron,” she rasps.
“Sure thing,” I say. “Night.”