Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aaron
“Have a good dinner with your mom,” I tell Colin. Leaning down, I give him a big hug and pick him up off the ground. When I set him back on his feet in front of the steps to his mom’s door, he grins up at me, holding his arms up.
“Again! I want another pick-up hug!”
Chuckling, I do it again. “I’ll give you another pick-up hug when I get you later, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you, too, dude.” I ruffle his hair, which makes him swipe at his hair to get it back how he wants it, then I walk him up to the door and ring the bell.
Amelia answers right away, smiling at both of us. “Thanks so much for bringing him,” she says, as always.
And I complete my half of the exchange with a shrug.
“Of course.” This is the routine we’ve been doing for the last almost two years.
It started when he turned four and could handle a little more variation in his routine.
Our parenting plan was written with several different adjustments as Colin reaches different ages and with contingencies for Amelia’s schedule built in.
Even though it’s all been amicable, we got it signed off by a judge, just so we’re all comfortable with the arrangements and no one has room to screw over the other.
This time, though, she changes the script. “Did you want to stay for dinner? You know you’re always welcome.”
“Oh, uh …” I scratch the back of my neck, a little flustered at her invitation. “I appreciate that, but I have some plans already.”
Her face falls, but she recovers quickly. “Okay. Well, maybe another time.”
“Sure,” I say affably, though I’m not sure I’d agree at any other time either.
This is supposed to be her time with Colin, and intruding on that seems wrong.
Yeah, I took her up on her offer of food last week when I was a few minutes early, but that’s not the same as me staying the whole time.
And while she’s joined us for dinner several times over the years, she hasn’t since we went to this schedule when he turned four.
That was part of the parenting plan when he was younger—an open invitation for her to join us when her schedule permitted outside of her designated times.
It was to make up for the fact that she didn’t have him overnight until after he turned four so we could keep him on a consistent bedtime routine those first few years.
Making that change to him having overnights at her house was a big adjustment at first, but we’ve all managed to find our way.
“I’ll see you at eight,” I say, giving a wave in Colin’s direction.
He waves back, all smiles, stepping inside and immediately taking off his backpack and coat. “Mom, look! I brought you a present I made at school!”
Amelia gives me a small smile and a finger wave before closing the door, presumably to see what Colin made her at school.
He’s very proud of the pinch pot he made in art class.
He painted it himself as well. Hopefully Amelia gushes over it appropriately.
Since she doesn’t spend a ton of time with Colin—or any other kids his age—sometimes I worry she doesn’t know how to talk to him or how to make him feel proud of his accomplishments.
But I can’t worry about that right now. I’ll deal with the consequences later this evening, or I’ll get to be relieved. Either way, I need to go pick up Jenna.
It’s hard going straight from Dad mode to date mode. At least it’s a bit of a drive to Amelia’s, giving me time to adjust my mental state.
Even so, when I get to the ChristmasFest to pick up Jenna, I still feel flustered.
She seems to feel the same way, though, because when she spots me, she puts her palm to her forehead, glances down at the tablet perpetually glued to her hand while she’s here, then back at me.
“I’m really sorry, Aaron. I totally lost track of time.
Let me just finish up something real quick, then I’ll grab my things from my office.
Will we be late for a reservation?” Her face broadcasts her very real worry about the answer to that question.
Weirdly, her being frazzled helps put me at ease. I smile at her and shake my head. “Nope. I have something a little different planned for tonight. I can wait a few minutes while you finish up.”
Dropping her hand from her head, she lets out a sigh, then gives me a smile. “Perfect. Thank you so much for understanding. Give me, like, five minutes. Ten tops!” Then she’s hurrying away to deal with whatever burgeoning catastrophe is making her late.
Checking the time on my phone, I wander around the booths near the entrance. I don’t really want to just stand still for five or ten minutes, but I don’t want to go far either.
I browse ornaments and decorations at one booth, then move to another selling laser cut wood lamps and nightlights. I pick one out that I think Colin will like.
While I’m paying, Jenna comes rushing up, nearly out of breath. “There you are! Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem,” I assure her, tucking my card back into my wallet and accepting the small brown paper bag containing the nightlight and one of the vendor’s cards. After murmuring my thanks, I hold out my arm to Jenna. “Ready?”
Grinning, she sets her hand in the crook of my elbow. “Absolutely. Let’s do it.”
The cold is a bit of a shock once we get outside, the night almost silent with the promise of new snow, the clouds low and purple looking, reflecting the light from town. “I think it’ll snow tonight,” I comment as I lead the way to my truck. “Might start soon.”
Jenna looks up at the sky. “You think so?”
“They did say snow in the forecast. And it looks like it could start any minute.”
She grimaces. “I hope it’s not a lot.”
Grinning, I open the door for her. “You worried about getting stuck?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. And if it’s really bad, I live close enough that I could walk.
I did plenty in the summer and fall when it was nice out.
Plus parking’s terrible by the Town Square that time of year, so not having to deal with that was a definite plus.
” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t really want to walk in the snow, though. That sounds cold. And wet.”
Closing her door, I hurry to my side and climb in.
“It’s not too bad,” I say as I start the truck.
“Walking in the snow, I mean. Sure, you can get wet if it’s coming down really hard or if the temperature’s too high and the snow’s really wet, but most of the time it’s drier than if it were raining. ”
She nods, considering. “Okay. I can see that.”
“And the walking warms you up. As long as you’re dressed for the weather and it’s not in the single digits or below zero, it’s actually nice.” Pulling out of the parking spot, I head toward the park on the river’s edge.
Jenna glances at me, her raised eyebrows illuminated by the lights of the dashboard. “We’re going to the park?”
“Well, at a different time of year, I’d propose a picnic. And while we might not want a blanket on the grass—”
“Since the grass is dead and frozen and covered in snow,” Jenna cuts in.
I nod. “Exactly. But my time is limited, and I didn’t want to waste a bunch of it waiting at a restaurant.
So I decided to bring dinner with us. We can’t really stargaze, given the clouds, but the Christmas lights along the water are pretty.
We can eat in the truck and talk without getting interrupted. Is this okay?”
Reaching behind me, I pull out soft sided cooler I used to transport the food. “I brought stew,” I continue, hoping the food will be a selling point since she hasn’t answered my question. “My mom’s recipe. And bread I got from Give and Cake earlier today.”
Her eyes widen at that. “They sell bread too? How did I not know that?”
I scratch my cheek. “I suppose with a name like that, it’s easy to assume they only do cakes and pastries, but no, they have breads and savory things too.
I will say, though, that their desserts are what they’re best known for.
The owners’ grandson moved back to help out last Christmas, and he’s started working to expand their savory offerings.
They’ve always done loaves of bread, but he’s added in a few different varieties now.
This is their rosemary sourdough. It’s crusty and delicious and goes great with the stew. ”
“Okay. I’m sold. Homemade stew and fresh baked bread? I think I might only be more impressed if you baked the bread yourself.”
Grinning, I take the top off one of the travel bowls and pass it to her along with a spoon and napkin.
Then I pull out the container full of slices of buttered bread, holding it close to her so she can select a slice, setting it on the seat between us.
She dips the bread into the stew and takes a bite, letting out a moan that has me—well, my dick—perking up.
God, she sounds sexy when she moans like that.
I do my best to ignore that, though. I don’t want to be a creep. I’ve heard enough horror stories from women to know how not to be, and I have to admit that the bar seems ridiculously low.
“That’s so good,” she says around her second mouthful.
“I’m glad you like it.” I opt for the spoon instead of dipping my bread in the bowl, enjoying the stew.
Tonight’s the perfect night for it. Colin made me promise I’d save him some when he saw I was making it.
He was a little pouty he had to go to his mom’s and wouldn’t get to have stew with me.
But I reminded him that it’s even better as leftovers, and I made plenty for us to have for dinner tomorrow night.
Plus, he had the pinch pot for his mom, and when he remembered that, he was as excited as ever to have dinner with her.
The stew’s his favorite, though.
We eat in relative silence for a moment, and I’m wondering if I should wait for her to start the conversation, or if I should.
But then she says, “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating.
I feel like a jerk, though. You brought us out to this beautiful view and made us delicious food, the least I should be able to do is provide some conversation, shouldn’t I?
” She smiles at me. “How was your day? Was it a Christmas tree day? Or an accounting day?”
Grinning, I shake my head. “I don’t work with the Christmas trees that much.
Well, okay, I do, but not at the shop. My mom handles all of that.
I do the caretaking for the trees, cut the precut ones, and cordon off the areas where people can—and can’t—cut their own trees.
Most of that is all outside of the Thanksgiving to Christmas window, though.
I’m usually in my office doing accounting work on weekdays.
I do have some flexibility when I need it, which I really like.
It makes it easy to take Colin to and from school, and I can volunteer for things sometimes, like when they go on field trips. ”
“Oh, that’s so great. I always loved when my mom came on field trips with my class when I was in elementary school.”
“The best one was when they came to my farm the week before Thanksgiving.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that must’ve been a blast. Did you go to the school and ride with them from there, or just meet them at the farm?”
“I met them at the farm. Mom and I did, anyway. We split the group in half and took them around the farm, then my mom showed them how to make their own wreaths.”
“Oh, that’s adorable. I bet they had a blast. That’s so great you do that.”
I shrug. “We’ve been doing it for the elementary school for years.
But it was extra fun having Colin there this year.
The grades take turns coming on different days.
It’s a big thing, and I took that week off work—accounting work, I mean—so I can accommodate the field trips.
It’s great for the kids, though. My dad was always passionate about showing what we do to the next generation.
‘How else will they know they can do it too?’ he always said. ”
“I love that,” she murmurs, taking another bite of her stew. “What was it like growing up on a Christmas tree farm?”