Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jenna
It takes Aaron a moment to answer. He takes a bite of the rosemary sourdough bread—and oh, my god, this bread is amazing.
Crusty, crunchy, the perfect hint of rosemary, and I swear this butter must be from some kind of special dairy nearby too.
And all of that combined with homemade stew—his mom’s recipe, no less—and I’m in heaven.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a man cook for me before. Well, I guess my dad did occasionally, but that’s not the same. I’ve never had a romantic partner—or prospective partner—cook for me. This is … everything about this date is nothing like I expected.
It’s surprisingly cozy in the cab of his truck, looking out over the water, Christmas lights decorating the houses on the hill across the river. If it really did start snowing, this would feel like some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie—postcard perfection.
“It was fun,” he says at last, and I can’t help laughing. “What? What’s so funny?”
Shaking my head, I hold my wrist in front of my mouth, spoon still in my hand. “I’m sorry. That’s just … you were quiet and thinking about it for so long, then all you came out with was, ‘It was fun.’ I guess I was just expecting a little more than only three words.”
He chuckles. “Well, what was your childhood like?”
Now it’s my turn to look thoughtfully out across the water. But the opportunity is too perfect to miss. I can’t repress my smile—and barely hold back my laugh—when after a long moment I say, “It was fun.”
He snorts. “Okay, fine. I see what you mean. But also, did you actually try to distill your childhood experience into something you could actually communicate to someone else?” He shrugs, stirring his stew.
“I mean, there were good parts and bad parts. Aren’t there always?
But it was mostly good. I grew up surrounded by trees, learning what they’re called and how to care for them the way some kids learn to care for their dogs or cats or sheep or cows.
“My brother and sister and I would roam the woods at the back of the property. Dad kept part of it as just for us and would let us build forts and play hide and seek. We had long range walkie talkies Mom would use to call us in for dinner.” He grins at the memory, his gaze distant as he stares out across the water, though I don’t think he’s really seeing the view.
“That does sound fun,” I murmur quietly.
He nods, refocusing on me. “It was a great place to have friends over, too. Mom was a teacher, so she was home after school with us. She always had cookies and good snacks on hand. And we’d just go outside and play until it was too dark or Mom called us in on the walkie talkie.
” He ducks his head, stirring his stew again.
“I’m glad I get to give a similar childhood to Colin.
It’s different, of course, in a lot of ways.
But he’ll get the trees and the forts on the back of the property and my mom’s cookies. ” He grins at the last part.
“So you have a brother and a sister?”
He nods. “Yup. One of each. They’re both older than me—my sister’s the middle, and she’s two years older.
My brother’s five years older than me. By the time I was really having friends over a lot, they were both doing their own thing, not so interested in tree forts anymore.
My brother was in high school by the time I was in late elementary, so he was playing football and spending time with his friends and girlfriends.
My sister was more the artsy drama kid type, so she was always doing school plays and busy with rehearsals and things like that. ”
“And you were the homebody who loved the trees.”
He shrugs. “More or less. When our dad’s health took a turn, I was the least established of the three of us.
They’re both off living in other states with their spouses and families.
I was just out of college and working odd jobs.
Dad needed help with the farm after his first heart attack—Mom was still working then and couldn’t take care of him and the trees too—so I moved home. ”
My eyes widen at that part of the story. “Oh, I didn’t realize … that’s great you were able to help out like that.”
“I’m glad I was able to be here. I got to spend Dad’s last few years with him.” His voice goes hoarse on the last sentence, and he pauses to clear his throat, sucking in a deep breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
I lay a hand on his arm. “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been.”
He gives me a soft smile then clears his throat again. “Your turn. Any siblings?”
“An older sister.”
“Ah, so you’re the youngest, too.”
I grin. “Of two, yes. We’re also only two years apart.
We stayed pretty close growing up. There were a few years between middle and high school where we drifted a bit, but as adults we have a good relationship.
We’re not best friends or anything, but we talk occasionally and make an effort to visit Mom and Dad at the same time.
My parents still live in Stratford Bay, where I grew up.
I usually try to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas—if not both—but this year …
” I shrug, holding up my spoon in a gesture of helplessness.
He grunts. “I didn’t even think about that. You’d be so busy here, you can’t exactly take off a day or two ahead of time to make it home for Christmas, can you? And same with Thanksgiving—you’d have to drive back on Thanksgiving Day in order to be here for the opening of ChristmasFest.”
“And I can’t exactly leave early then, either. All the set up is being finished the first few days of that week. I’d have to drive there and back on Thanksgiving, which wouldn’t even work.”
“Right. I mean, I suppose you could leave on Christmas Eve. How long is the drive to there?”
“Um, about nine hours, not counting stops. So ten or eleven, depending on how much time I want to spend stretching my legs.”
His eyes widen. “Yeah, so definitely not a there and back in a day kind of trip. And you’d get there in the early morning hours after driving all night if you left Christmas Eve. Unless you flew somewhere, but that’d be hard too. So that leaves getting there on Christmas Day.”
I nod. “Yeah. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to do that this year.
Obviously I’ll drive if I go. But with ChristmasFest …
and then we tear down on Monday. I might just wait until after that to give myself a little time to recover, then go stay with my parents until New Year’s.
Madison should be there for a few days past Christmas, so I’ll still get to see her, hopefully.
Word is, she’s bringing her boyfriend this year. So that’ll be fun.”
“I take it he’s a new addition?”
Grinning, I nod again. “Yeah. They started dating over the summer, so it’s been around six months. She’s smitten. Hopefully he lives up to the hype.”
Aaron quirks an eyebrow. “Are you expecting that he might not?”
I shrug. “Let’s just say I know from experience what rose colored glasses can do. Even if we don’t like him as much as she does, I also know that she’ll have to figure out for herself that he’s not all that great after all.”
“You don’t think your opinion will matter?”
I screw up my face in thought. Would Madison take dissenting opinions on board?
“Maybe,” I say slowly. The thing is, though, that I know I wouldn’t have.
In fact, Amanda tried multiple times to point out what a drain Ian was at the time—he never helped around the house, barely contributed financially, and acted like he was curing cancer while I did the equivalent of trying to clean the sand off the beach—useless and stupid.
Humming thoughtfully, Aaron cocks his head to the side.
“I guess I can see what you mean. It’s like when parents tell their teenagers not to do something—it just makes them want to do it more, right?
So if you were openly disapproving, it might just make her decide to get married or something instead. ”
Chuckling, I nod. “Something like that. Also, people just get defensive when you start randomly questioning their choice of partner. Like, it’s one thing if the person’s complaining or already unhappy and you weigh in with why you think the relationship might not be the best thing for them.
But if they’re still in the happy, excusing all the faults stage?
Trust me. Telling them they should dump him isn’t going to end the way you want it to. ”
He looks at me as though considering something.
“Part of me wants to dig into that a little more, mostly because I have some guesses about things I’d like confirmed or corrected based on what you said when we had a drink at The Red Arrow.
But since this is only our second date, I’ll just stew in my curiosity. ”
Laughing, I shrug. “You can ask if you want to. I really don’t mind.”
He tilts his head like he’s thinking about it, then says, “Nah. We’ve already strayed into far too serious waters tonight. Tell me more about Stratford Bay. What was your favorite part about growing up there?”
“The ocean,” I say without hesitation. “Downtown ends at the beach. We’d spend hours playing in the sand in all kinds of weather.
Even when it’s cold, it’s still fun to go look for seashells and watch the waves roll up on the beach.
The water’s frigid, even at the height of summer, but I love it—the wind, the sand, bonfires on the beach with friends …
” Trailing off, I shake my head. “I went back and spent a week with my parents between leaving Salem and moving here. I’m really glad I got to do that.
I’ll make it to the beach when I go around New Year’s, but the summer’s the best. It was still chilly when I was there in June, but I lucked out that it only rained some of the time and was sunny or overcast at worst the rest of the time.
But hands down, that was my favorite part of growing up there—going to the beach all the time. ”