Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Aaron
Mom and I bustle around the kitchen, getting everything ready for our Christmas Eve dinner.
It’s filling and tasty, though fairly easy.
The roast beef has been in the slow cooker since this morning, and when it’s nearly time for Colin to arrive—which means Jenna should be here soon too—I pull it out so Mom can use the juices to make gravy.
I’ll cut it—shred it, really, since even getting it out of the Crock Pot has it falling to pieces—once everyone’s here.
While Mom makes the gravy, I drain and mash the potatoes that have been boiling on the stove since I got home from the closing of ChristmasFest. It was a little strange being there without Colin—I usually only go when I have him on Christmas Eve.
Part of me had hoped Amelia might take him because I know he loves it, but I didn’t spot them.
It’s okay, though, I remind myself. She gets to make up her own traditions, after all.
I’m excited for this dinner, though. I’ll have all my favorite people together.
There’s a knock on the door, and I move to answer, grinning, unsure if it’ll be Colin or Jenna. Either way, I’m thrilled.
Opening the door reveals Amelia and Colin.
“Daddy!” he yells, immediately throwing himself at me.
I lean down just in time to catch him up in a big hug. “Hey, Colin! I’ve missed you.”
He buries his face in my neck. “I’ve missed you too. But I got to see Santa again, and Mommy and I have been watching all the Christmas movies!”
“All of ‘em, huh?”
Amelia chuckles. “Well, all the good kid ones, at least. I even found the old stop motion ones I grew up watching as a kid like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus. Remember those?”
“Oh, man, that’s great. Did you like them?” I ask Colin.
He nods, and I set him down.
Amelia looks past me, smiling. “It smells delicious in here.”
“Thanks. Mom and I have been hard at work making dinner.”
“That’s so nice she’s here to help,” Amelia murmurs, and I do my best to ignore the hope stamped on her face. I know she wants an invitation to stay, despite the fact that I made it clear that we’d be sticking to our original plan.
“Well, I’m sure you have a nice relaxing evening planned for yourself.”
She lets out a soft chuckle and adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Sure. Something like that.” To Colin she says, “Bye, Colin! Mommy’ll be back in a couple hours, okay?”
I have to fight to keep my face smooth. I’m not sure why she’s talking to him like he’s three, but I don’t want to cause any issues.
“Bye, Mom!” Colin says, already taking off his coat and boots and heading for my mom. He knows she always gives him a little taste of whatever she’s making when she helps make dinner.
Amelia stares after him, her face almost stricken. “No hug?” she asks after a second.
He turns, blinks, then walks back and gives her a quick hug. “See ya!” And then he races off to the kitchen.
I shrug at Amelia. “Would you rather I bring him to you so you don’t have to come back out so soon?”
She meets my eyes, her lips pressing into something that could pass as a polite smile but does nothing to hide her disappointment. “No, it’s fine,” she says quietly, turning to leave. “I’ll be back at eight thirty, like we agreed.”
“Thanks for giving me that extra half hour.”
She shrugs. “No problem. Like you said, I have him all week, right? And it’s not a school night.”
“Yeah,” I agree for lack of something better to say.
When she turns, she stiffens, and I look past her to see Jenna standing on the walkway behind her, her arms crossed around herself like she’s been waiting for a few minutes in the cold.
She lifts a hand, pulling the scarf down so we can see her smile. “Hey. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
My smile blooms. “Hey. You’re just in time. Dinner’s almost ready, and Colin just got here.”
Amelia whirls back to me, her face contorted in a mask of rage. “You invited her,” she hisses. Then she lets out an ugly laugh. “Oh, I see. That’s why you wouldn’t let me come for Christmas Eve dinner. You are trying to replace me.”
“What? Amelia, no, I—”
But before I can get out more, she turns back to Jenna. “I told you,” she says, grabbing the hand rail and moving down a step. “I told you to leave my family alone. They’re mine.”
Jenna holds her hands up, shaking her head. “I’m not—”
“Amelia.” I put the kind of bite in my tone that I use when Colin’s acting up. “What are you talking about? No one’s trying to replace you.”
“Aren’t you?” she accuses, whipping her head back around to me, tears in her eyes.
“You bring her here. You have Christmas Eve dinner with some other woman. Colin will probably be more excited to see her than he ever is to see me. I can barely even get a hug out of him when I drop him off with you, but when you drop him off with me, he clings to you like he’ll never see you again! ”
“Look, Amelia,” I start, holding my hands up in a placating gesture, but I’m not sure what to say to all of that, so I pause for a long moment.
“No one’s replacing you. And Colin …” How do I say that kids are like that?
That when I take him to school, he barely even gives me a high five to say goodbye half the time when I get him to his classroom.
His greeting to me tonight compared to his goodbye to her isn’t indicative of anything in particular other than that he’s excited to see me since he hasn’t in a while but he knows he’ll see her again in a couple of hours.
Somehow, I feel like that’ll come out as a lecture and not be helpful.
A sob breaks from Amelia, and she covers her face. I meet Jenna’s eyes, feeling helpless.
She’s chewing on her lip, eyes wide as she takes all this in. Then something passes over her face, and suddenly she’s closed off. “Uh, I think I should maybe go,” she says quietly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder.
“Yes!” Amelia sobs. “Go! I don’t know why you’re even here! You don’t belong here. I belong here! I’m Colin’s mother!”
Jenna starts taking slow steps backward like she’s unable to tear her eyes away. “Jenna, wait,” I protest. “Don’t—”
“Leave!” Amelia shrieks. “Go!”
At that, Jenna turns, her boots crunching over the thin skiff of snow that I didn’t realize had fallen since I got home as she walks quickly toward her car.
When I make to go after her, I realize I’m in my socks. I pause for half a second to step into my boots, and when I move to follow Jenna, grabbing my coat off the hook by the door, Amelia’s blocking my way.
“Amelia, please,” I say, keeping my voice low, aware that Colin’s just in the next room. “Can we not do this right now?”
She throws her arms up. “When, then? When’s a better time than now?”
I examine her tear-stained face, mystified by this change.
Sighing, I guide her outside, pulling the door closed behind me.
Apparently now is the time we have to do this.
I cast a glance toward the driveway, wondering if Jenna’s still there, but my truck is blocking the view of anything past it.
Amelia’s car is parked behind it. Jenna could still be here. I didn’t hear her drive away …
“Colin doesn’t need to hear whatever’s going on between us,” I say quietly, hoping to infuse some calm into this ridiculous situation. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now,” I admit. “You’re the one who never wanted more than a co-parenting relationship once you got pregnant. Remember?”
She wipes at her eyes, sniffing. “Yeah,” she croaks. “I remember. It’s just—” Breaking off, she sniffs again and shakes her head.
“It’s just …?” I prompt, hoping to get to the bottom of this.
“I barely see Colin,” she whispers. “And when I do, it’s so awkward. I don’t know what to talk to him about. He gets annoyed when I make him what I thought were his favorite foods or buy him toys he used to like. I don’t even know what he likes anymore!” The last comes out on a wail.
“His likes have been changing pretty quickly since he started kindergarten. But I think it’s more the age than anything. The world is getting bigger for him. He’s learning all kinds of new things, he’s making new friends that didn’t go to his daycare. He’s growing up.”
“I thought …” she sniffs. “I thought I’d have more time.”
My brows come together. “This is the schedule that you asked for.” The statement comes out more accusatory than I wanted.
I’m just confused by her sudden change. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound bitchy.
I just mean …” Sighing, I shake my head.
“Parenting is hard. And nothing really prepares you for it. As much as you wish you could sometimes, you can’t freeze time, and you can’t keep your kid the same as they were when they were younger.
They grow, and they become their own people.
He’s getting more independent already, getting mad at me when I try to tie his shoes or offer to help him with his coat. ”
“I know!” she bursts out, then the tears start flowing again.
“He yelled at me yesterday for just reaching for his coat. I guess I didn’t realize he didn’t want or need help anymore.
I mean, I kinda knew he could do it or was working on doing it, but I still think of him as my little baby.
” She meets my eyes, hers shining with tears and full of longing.
“Don’t you miss it?” she asks. “The way we were? When he was a baby, you’d come stay with me. We made a good team, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I acknowledge. “We still do. Colin’s an awesome kid. He does great at school. He has friends. And he knows he’s loved. By you. By me. By his grandma. That’s because of the life we’ve built for him.”
She sniffs again, but it seems more like leftover from her tears.
No new ones are falling. Stepping closer, she lays her hand on my chest. “You’re right.
I just … I was thinking it’d be even better if we were all together like when he was a baby.
We were good together, you and me. Even if I wasn’t ready then … ”
She leaves the statement hanging, letting me fill in the obvious—that she’s ready now.
Stepping back, I shake my head. “Amelia, you said yourself that we were never meant for more than casual. We both know we’re not compatible for the long term.
That’s why we could be friends with benefits or co-parents, but not more than that.
And you were right six years ago when you said that mixing friends with benefits and co-parents is a recipe for disaster.
” Taking a deep breath, I say as gently as I can.
“Me dating someone else doesn’t mean I’m trying to replace you.
If you’re ready for a relationship, you should find one.
But we both know this“—I gesture between us—”would never work.
That’s why we didn’t even try. And it would be so much harder on Colin if we did and then ended up breaking up versus if we continue as we are, don’t you think? ”
She’s staring at me, not saying anything, so I press on.
“Me dating Jenna doesn’t mean anyone is trying to replace you.
If Colin’s been talking about her to you, it’s just because she’s new in his life, he’s excited to show her his Magna Tiles, and you’re spending more time with him this week.
When he started school, I heard about his teacher and one kid in his class constantly.
He still talks about them, of course, but not nearly as much as when everything was so new. ”
She’s not quite smiling, but she gives me a knowing look. “His friend JJ?”
I nod, grinning. “Yeah. You’ve heard all about him too?”
“Oh, yeah,” she confirms.
“See? That means you’re included. You do know things about him.
But for whatever reason, you’ve started feeling like you’re missing too much, and you’re trying to force him back into his baby and preschooler stage.
” I shake my head. “His favorite color seems to change every other week. As does his favorite food. And one day, he’ll happily play with his dinosaurs for hours.
The next, he’s decided dinosaurs are for babies.
Just because he rejected a toy you thought he liked doesn’t mean he won’t like it in a week or a month.
But also, it’s normal for his likes and dislikes to change.
Do you still like the same things you liked when you were five? Or ten? Or even twenty?”
That finally provokes a small smile. “Okay. I see your point.” She sniffs again, looking away. “It’s still hard, though.”
“It is,” I acknowledge.
She wipes her face, shakes her head, and sucks in a small breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your Christmas Eve. I just …” She shakes her head again, looking down at her hands. “I’d hoped …”
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I have feelings for Jenna. And even if you succeeded in driving her away, that wouldn’t mean I’d decide to be with you.”
A few more tears track down her cheeks at that, and I feel like a dick laying it out. But I think she needs to hear it, even if it hurts. It’d be meaner to make her think there’s hope, wouldn’t it? And Amelia’s always been straightforward, a trait she typically appreciates in others as well.
On another deep breath, she draws herself up and gives me a forced smile. “Well, I’ll, uh … I’ll leave you to it, then. See you at eight thirty.”
“See you then.”
I wait for her to disappear into her car, backing out, and turning around to drive down the long driveway to the road before walking over to see if, by some miracle, Jenna’s still here.
I let out a relieved breath when I spot her car. It’s off, and the windows are fogged up.
Zipping up my coat, I make my way around to her driver’s side and knock on the window.
I hear a muffled, “Jesus Christ!” and then the door opens a crack, revealing Jenna’s face. In the dark, I can’t decipher her expression. “You scared the living shit out of me.”