“Aimee, would you mind setting the table dear?” Gwen called out to her daughter who was leisurely sprawled out in the lounge chair in the family room in a pair of loose track pants and oversized sweatshirt. In the room also were her two remaining bachelor brothers sitting on the couch opposite. At least they were when one of their team members weren’t scoring a goal in the hockey game being played out on their mother’s tiny twenty-four inch TV.
Aimee dragged her legs from the armrest and dropped her feet to the floor. Shaking her head foolishly at the overzealous, overgrown boys with their eyes glued to the tube, Aimee tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and went out to the kitchen.
“I can never fathom the bond a guy has over a sports game,” Aimee exclaimed as she opened the linen closet and began removing a tablecloth and placemats. “Grant you, I enjoy sitting down to a good game, but it doesn’t render me a lunatic.”
“We all have our pleasures in life.” Gwen smiled to her daughter. “Actually, would you be a dear and pull out the good linen from the buffet.”
Aimee paused momentarily before returning the everyday linen to the closet. “What’s the occasion?”
“Isn’t Thanksgiving occasion enough?” Gwen gave her daughter a dubious frown.
“Of course, but it never brought out Grandma’s good linen.”
“Then while you’re at it, pull out the china as well.”
Aimee nodded and proceeded her mother into the formal dining room. “Which reminds me. I went shopping last week with Hope to register for the wedding. She picked out a charming pattern for her china.”
“Is it like Grandma’s?” Aimee held out the antique china platter and delicately touched the gold trim. Inwardly she sighed. She had known all her life that being the only daughter she would inherit the family china and silver. It would be her wedding present.
Memories of the evening before sifted through her musing like a warm shroud, inducing a blissful little smile. Being in his arms had felt exceedingly wonderful and so utterly right that it was with a hopeless sigh she expelled the knowledge that he was not hers to love. So too, the family china. Wedding bells were nowhere closer now than they were the evening before.
She glanced up to find her mother looking at her searchingly. With a start, she asked, “What did you say?”
“Thirteen dear.” Her mother gestured to the dinner plates in Aimee’s arms. “We’ll need thirteen.”
“Oh, sorry.” She turned back to the cabinet only to turn on her heel again. “Thirteen? There’s only nine in the family.”
“Did I forget to mention that Verna dropped by my craft table yesterday and I invited her and Jo for dinner.”
Aimee frowned. “Yes, you did forget to mention it. I suppose Colin will be joining them?”
“Well you wouldn’t want him eating alone, would you? It is after all Thanksgiving.”
“Of course not.” Since she couldn’t think of an appropriate response she turned back to the table. “But that still only makes twelve.”
Her mother paused in the process of shining a silver candelabrum. “Well apparently, Verna called early this morning and asked if we had room for one more guest.”
Brows puckering, Aimee waited for her mother to continue. When she didn’t, she pressed, “Who?”
“Now Aimee, you know I couldn’t let someone spend Thanksgiving alone.”
An awful sickness began a slow stir in the vicinity of her stomach. “Who mother?”
“And since we already sent out the invitation, we couldn’t very well take it back.” She looked slightly alarmed as she vigorously rubbed the tarnish off the silver.
“Mother, who is the thirteenth guest?”
“It seems that Sheila arrived early this morning to join Colin with his family for dinner.” She said it quickly as though ousting an unwanted secret.
Immobile, Aimee felt her chest freeze over. “Sheila?” Then with all her willpower she forced her legs to move and began placing the plates on the silk tablecloth. “That must have been a wonderful surprise for Colin.”
“You’re not upset?” She eyed her daughter closely.
“Why would I be? She is after all his fiancée. If he wants to spend time with her who am I to say otherwise.” She could have bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to sound so defiant. But she did, and in the most spiteful way.
Gwen looked concerned. “Aimee you might want to—”
But she was interrupted by the doorbell. One more worried frown at her daughter, then she hurried to answer it.
Aimee released a sneer at the deceitful family china. The tragic irony was allowing that horrible woman to eat off an heirloom alongside the man Aimee should be spending the rest of her life with instead.
Deciding that standing there scolding inanimate objects wasn’t the most sane conduct, she turned and headed for the family room. She wasn’t maddening enough to actually meet the small intimate group out in the lobby. Like her brothers she would wait nonchalantly lounging in front of the television. Sheila McNeil would not have the privilege of being treated as a special guest. At least not by Aimee.
“Happy Thanksgiving boys!” Verna walked into the room and announced her presence warmly.
Her brothers got up and went over with a kiss on her cheek as was expected. Aimee held back against the back wall in order to watch the remainder of the guest enter. Verna’s husband Jo was directly behind his wife but was occupied in a conversation with Aimee’s mother and Sheila McNeil. Aimee realized she had been holding her breath until the other woman came into view, a unwelcoming sight to find her enemy in surroundings that ordinarily should have been off bounds.
“This is where you’re hiding.” Colin’s voice directly behind her had her nearly leaping out of her sports socks.
“What are you doing there? You’re supposed to come in through the front door.”
He grinned. “Your mother said you were in the dining room.”
“And you came looking for me?”
“Why not?”
She made a face. “And your fiancée actually let you go?”
“Aimee, be a good girl tonight,” he cautioned. “That’s why I came to find you.”
She gasped. “To tell me to behave myself?”
“No,” he frowned. “To warn you that Sheila showed up this morning.”
“Oh.”
He studied her closely. “But maybe you need to be reminded to behave yourself as well. You’re apparently in a foul mood already.”
Genuinely peeved, she wrinkled her brow. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Frankly, no.” He leaned casually against the wall beside her. “But, I thought I ought to apologize. I promised not to mention her name and then I go and breach that promise by having her show up entirely, let alone her name, on our weekend.”
The fact that he referred to it as their weekend found a soft spot. “It’s not your fault Colin.”
He gave her a quizzical look before pushing himself off the wall. “I didn’t say I wasn’t pleased to see her, though.”
Her soft spot hardened immediately.
“Her partner gave her a lift up here, but she needs to be back tomorrow to meet with their client. We’re going back home tonight. Be ready to leave by eight o’clock.” Then with a quick perusal at her attire as he brushed past, he said, “Nice outfit.”
Flustered she glanced down to realize that she was dressed still in sweats and her brother’s oversized college sweatshirt. Humiliated, she wondered if she could escape the room without notice. Up against the beautifully impeccable Sheila McNeil, Aimee would appear the inexperienced washout that she was. Slipping back through the dining room she almost hated herself for being so sensitive. She really didn’t give a flying pig’s backside about the woman’s opinion. But it riled her terribly that once again her uncomely appearance had not eluded Colin’s observation.
* * *
At dinner Aimee purposely dawdled in the kitchen helping her mother serve the meal. If it were possible she would sit as far away from the couple as she could get. Leaving them to find their own seats, she would not make the mistake of having fate place them next to her. If Colin teased her one more time, she swore biting her lip wouldn’t keep her hatred of the situation from being revealed.
Her thoughts on anything but the bar of cheese that she was presently cutting into slices, she was not aware her strokes had become furious until she accidentally cut herself rather than the cheese. Cursing, she dropped the knife and placed the bleeding finger to her lips.
“Oh dear.” Gwen took the injured finger into her hands and examined the cut. Going over to the farthest cupboard, she removed a box of Band-Aids. “Do be careful, Aimee. Next time it could be a lot worse.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Gwen eyed her daughter before tending to the cut. “How are you doing?’
“That feels better, thanks.”
“I meant with Colin and Sheila.”
Aimee’s eyes rose to her mother’s concerned face. If she hadn’t looked so concerned, Aimee might have been tempted to reveal the truth. Be that as it may, however, she disliked being the object of her sympathy. “It doesn’t concern me.”
Gwen sighed. “If it helps, you know I wouldn’t have invited them if I had known ahead of time that she would be coming.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It would have happened sooner or later.” Wrong thing to say. She had meant to sound like Colin’s future wife would be a constant member of the family from here on out. Instead, she sounded as if the end of the world was just as unavoidable.
“Aimee, would you like to tell me something?” Gwen continued to hold her daughter’s hand as she looked earnestly into her eyes. “Colin and you have become very close. Is this what he wants?”
Aimee frowned. “Of course. He-he’s in love. He’s my friend and I’m very happy for him.”
“Are you? Friends, that is?”
“You know we are.” She pulled her hands free.
“Nothing more?”
“Mother, please.” Her reserve was beginning to slip and she feared her decision to remain behind to help was the wrong choice. The woman’s ability to crumple Aimee’s defense and having her weeping the whole sorry story was fast approaching. “He doesn’t think of me in that way.”
“I see.” Reaching for the jar of cranberries on the counter she pushed them over to her daughter to empty into a glass bowl. “I thought you two had become very close.”
“We have. Just not in a romantic manner.”
“Are you sure of that?”
Aimee frowned heavily. Her mother’s usual comforting words were leaving her confused and uneasy. “Of course. He’s never even so much as kissed me.”
Gwen smiled gently. “There are other ways to know a man loves you.”
The word love affiliated with Colin in the same subject matter caused her heart to do a silly flip. However, her common sense governed her better judgment. “Not in this case.”
“Aimee?” Her mother looked deeply into her eyes. “Do you love him?”
The question was unexpected and Aimee’s chin quivered at the depth of just how much. Looking down at her hands, she hoped to gather some type of control before she answered quietly, “Yes.”
“Oh sweetie.” Gwen took her daughter into her arms. “I’m happy for you. I couldn’t have chosen better.”
“Why be happy?” Distressed Aimee looked upon her mother horrified. “I just finished telling you that he didn’t return the feeling.”
“Sweetie, there’s more to love than physical attraction.” She reached up and tucked a stray piece of Aimee’s hair behind her ear. “When it’s the real thing, you share so much more.”
“I know what you’re saying. But we’re just friends.” In despair she exclaimed, “He’s never had any feelings toward me.”
“Believe me, honey, if he hasn’t already, he will probably hate you first. Some even say it’s equal to love.” Gwen smiled cheerfully. “The day he gets so mad at you that you generally feel as if he hates you, will be the day you realize he’s in love with you.”
Aimee laughed. “That is the most ridiculous explanation of love I have ever heard.”
“Take it from an old married lady like myself. I know what I’m saying.” Gwen handed her the platter of cheese and bowl of cranberries. “Now, be a dear and take these out to the table before they shrivel up.”
Taking the matching glass dishes in both hands, Aimee turned around smiling. She could always count on her mother to cheer her up. Getting through the meal didn’t seem so difficult after all.
On the verge of taking a step forward, her foot came to an abrupt halt. Standing in the kitchen’s entrance, Colin stood watching her with a solemn expression on his face. Her heart slammed against her ribcage knocking the very breath from her. His eyes held an ashen glaze as he stared at her blankly. The white around his taunt mouth revealed that the heedless conversation between the two women had been overheard.
In that moment Aimee wished with all her might she could have taken back the words. Words that had clearly distressed and repelled him. She wished ardently that she could extract if for no other reason than to blot out the affliction on his face.
At last he seemed to find his voice, “I came out to see if you needed any help.”
Aimee’s tongue remained useless, but thankfully her mother was quick to respond, “No thank you Colin, we’re fine.”
He nodded shortly, still staring gravely at Aimee before making an exit.
The tears came quickly when she realized that she had been holding them back. Mortified, she wiped angrily at them. She had loved Colin secretly for the past two years. An inner and silent suffering she bore alone. Never once had she burdened anyone with her feelings, hopes, or dreams. Until now. It was a horrible fluke that he overheard that declaration. In one sharp and piercing look in those dark eyes, all her hopes and dreams were forever shattered. For he clearly not only was revolted by her declaration, he fully rejected it.
“Aimee, I’m sorry.” Her mother’s voice from behind tried to reassure but Aimee brushed it off and angrily marched proudly into the dining room.
He refused to look at her as she entered which only pleased Aimee. She was certain that she was blushing hotly with mortification. Indeed, no one observed her cower into her seat. The complete table’s focus was on their new guest. Sheila McNeil captivated the attention of her family with her skilled charisma and cultured manners.
Tucking a silk napkin around her knees she sneaked a fleeting glance across the table to where Colin was seated. His eyes downcast, his attention was anywhere but on her Grandma’s fine china. Even with that quick glance, Aimee saw the dismal lines edged upon his face. A disturbing unease overcame her. She had always known that Colin would disapprove of her feelings, never reciprocate those feelings, and perhaps rebuke those feelings. But she had never believed that he would have been appalled by them.
The countenance that he took no effort to conceal shrieked of aversion. It carried through the main course of the meal until her mother began clearing dishes and replaced them with dessert dishes. The only solace was that it went unnoticed by her family whose concentration remained centered on Sheila as they had been throughout the meal. Notably those of her two single brothers.
The woman at the center of attention suddenly turned her simulated smile upon Aimee. “Aimee, your brothers aren’t anything like you. Why didn’t you tell me you had such a charming family?”
Aimee knew there was an insult in there somewhere, but she had neither the spirit nor the energy to feel even the slightest bit piqued.
Joel, however, relieved his sister of the need to respond. “Aimee is equally as irresistible. Particularly with the members of the opposite sex.”
Sheila responded with a tight smile. “Is that right? I’m afraid I’ve always pegged Aimee as a green little waif. Small town girl in the big city. It certainly was extremely generous of Colin to foster her. It would be a marvelous supplement to include a young man in Aimee’s life. As a matter of fact, Colin and I have fretted terribly over her lack of male companions.”
A sharp spleen jabbed her listless state and had her nearly retorting in belligerent animosity. However, once more, one of her brothers intermitted. “Well the member of the opposite sex certainly isn’t lacking back home. Aimee is a natural charm for the male breed. For example, it wasn’t surprising to discover she’d lured the majority of Durham’s male population up onto the dance floor last night.”
Sheila’s counterfeit smile did not so much as falter. “Except Colin, naturally. He exceptionally detests dancing.”
Without warning her brothers went silent and a hush fell over the table. An onset of fidgetiness commenced from one end of the table to the other, with apprehensive glances being exchanged all around. Someone cleared his or her throat but still no one liberated the altercation that Aimee would have only be too happy to embrace. If it had been a day before.
“Actually Sheila,” It was Colin who finally did speak. “Aimee and I shared a dance together. Two if you count the Chicken Dance.”
Sheila’s head spun around to her fiancé and stared at him dumbfounded. Then with skill and talent because that could only explain how the woman masked her true wrath, she remarked with animation, “Oh, what a wonderful surprise, sweetheart. Perhaps this means we shall be able to enjoy more corporate galas. My, the things one discovers in their primal elements. I should bring you home more often, Colin.”
Laying her hand upon his shoulder, Sheila’s thick words oozed with artificial glee. However, as those cunning eyes darted in Aimee’s direction, they became sharp and hostile. For some reason Aimee found great joy in returning the look with her own synthetic smile. Sheila’s hard stare only sharpened. Indifferently, Aimee sighed with boredom and looked away. Sheila’s hostility was beginning to feel slightly dull and redundant.
About to bite eagerly into a piece of pie, her eyes treacherously strayed toward Colin. Her fork halted directly parallel to her waiting mouth. He was looking at her with a faint gleam in his eye. Then surprisingly gave her an impish wink.
Taken back, she stared open-mouthed as her emotions were thrown into a whirlpool of confusion. The man was baffling and yet intoxicating at the same time. It struck her grimly that one man should not be given the ability to toss her world in such chaos with one simple wink. Casting her eyes away, she refused to return a smile.
Verna cleared her throat and broke the silence that had overcome the table. “This pie is delicious Gwen. You must give me the recipe.”
“Actually, Aimee provided dessert.” Gwen supplied.
“Actually, a Mennonite bakery provided dessert.” Aimee corrected.
She had persuaded Colin to stop off at a popular Mennonite restaurant so she could purchase the dessert. She enjoyed baking but found little time to do so and since it was her usual assignment to provide dessert, she was left with little choice but to purchase the pie from their bakery. “I couldn’t nearly bake as well, anyhow. I’m slightly addicted to their Dutch Apple pie. However, I feel awful I didn’t realize you and your family would be joining us or I would have bought two.”
“Well then, taking a smaller portion might be a suggestion,” Joel remarked eyeing her plate.
Alarmed, Aimee quickly looked down and grimaced. “How foolish of me. I obviously wasn’t thinking.”
Gwen scoffed her son before turning to Aimee. “Don’t pay no mind to your brother. The odd indulgence is perfectly acceptable.”
“Bah!” Joel barked, “Aimee’s odd indulgences just happen to occur on a regular basis.”
“That is quite enough Joel.” Their mother sternly attempted to hush him.
“Oh for pity’s sake, she’s been known to put back more pie than the four of us brothers put together. She’s had a sweet tooth ever since I can remember. Even Colin can testify to that.”
Aimee began to grow red at her brother’s humiliating words. Normally, she would brush him off with a sharp retort and plunge hungrily into the rich pastry. However, tonight they had company and this most mortifying account of her eating habits was not only subjected to the Pearson’s but to Sheila McNeil as well.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Colin to await his comment, however it was Sheila who piped up with a false chuckle, “I’ve plenty of wonderful low fat recipes you could borrow, Aimee. Including some for Dutch Apple Pie.”
Her humiliation immediately turned to rage and she would have gladly taken the chance to tell the woman where she could put her recipes, when Colin interrupted to finally declare, “I don’t actually recall a time when she refused a sweet.”
Her anger immediately reverted to mortification once again. She stared at him dumbfounded, but one of his eyes twinkled amusingly across the table at her. Aimee, however, did not see the humor in the situation.
“Now, Colin, as I remember Aimee’s fondness for food did not seem to put any stress on your spine when I distinctly recall you carrying her up our front porch some ten years ago.”
Dennis roared with laughter at the memory, but Aimee had squeezed her forehead real tight in search for it. Her brother was only too happy to recount. “That was the night Aimee bugged us endlessly to take her to the drive-in with us.”
Oh Lord, she groaned inwardly, now she remembered. Apparently, so did Colin. “Right. The night she stowed away in the trunk.”
Joel cleared his throat and turned his attention to his small portion of pie.
Gwen slid a frown her son’s way. “Don’t think I didn’t know your part in this young man.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Sheila interceded with irritation, “Stowaways, drive-ins…Colin carrying Aimee on his back. What is this all about?”
Dennis began the story. “It was the summer she was going on from eleven to sixteen. One of the hottest I can remember as a matter of fact. Colin and I began to use the drive-in as our hangout in the blistering heat. We were able to stay out all night long in the warm evenings, with the bonus of great entertainment and pretty ladies. Aimee found out and began begging us to let her come along. Of course that was out of the question, one couldn’t have your twelve year-old sister sandwiched between you and your sweetheart.”
“That’s when Aimee came to me for help.” Joel picked up the story from there. “One night she asked me if I could help her sneak into the trunk of Dennis’s car. Naturally, wanting to rid myself of an annoying little sister, I was more than happy to help so when the guy’s backs were turned away long enough, I popped open the trunk and stuffed her in.”
Sheila chuckled. “You make her sound like a Butterball Thanksgiving turkey.”
“Believe me, at that time the comparison was alarming close.”
“Joel—” Gwen rebuked her son soundly.
“What?” He raised his hands guiltlessly. “It’s the truth.”
“I was going through puberty.” She ground out between clenched teeth and wishing there was something she could do to swipe that insufferable smirk off Sheila McNeil’s face.
“To poor Colin’s disadvantage.” Dennis allowed. “He was the poor sucker stuck with the job of carrying her home.”
“Did puberty also prevent her legs from working?” Sheila snarled sweetly.
“No. We had settled into our seats and were prepared to do some heavy breathing with our companions when this banging and shouting came from the trunk. Nearly scared the crap out of us.” Dennis shook his head at the memory. “Couldn’t believe it when we opened the lid and there she was all curled up in a fetus position. Must have been like that for hours since we stopped and had a bite to eat before heading off for the movies.”
“My legs had fallen asleep and gone numb.” Aimee quickly hurried the story along. Maybe if she were lucky they would ignore anything that happened afterwards and wrap up the story.
No such luck. It was Colin that proceeded. But his voice had gone low and serious. “You were lucky that was all that happened. You could have died from suffocation, but thankfully there was so much rust and holes in that old car it provided you with ventilation.”
There was a silent pause before Dennis spoke up and continued the story, altering his tone of voice purposely to a more whimsical level. “As Aimee was saying, her legs did fall asleep and after I ordered her in no uncertain terms to get her puberty buttocks out of there, her legs failed. Instead, she tumbled out of the trunk, her legs apparently in no hurry to follow. She scuffed them pretty bad on the gravel lot.”
“They were bleeding furiously.” She felt needed to be said.
“I was so furious with her I would have happily sent her home crawling.”
“Then it was a good thing Colin was there.” Gwen turned to Verna to declare, “I am glad one of our sons turned out a gentleman.”
His mother lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’m just as surprised. This is the first time I’ve heard this story. What happened next?”
“Colin took pity on her and carried her home.” Dennis supplied.
The end. No need to go further, Aimee silently begged, however, Colin recounted, “Her knees were bleeding profusely and she complained of an inability to walk due to the cramped quarters she was forced to endure for several hours. Not to mention she was crying the biggest tears I had ever seen…” He trailed off, glancing over at her oddly, lost in the past she was certain. “I couldn’t just ignore her.”
“She was too heavy to carry, so he threw her on his back and left the rest of us, namely a certain female companion, more than annoyed with my younger sister.”
“Mmm, I can relate.” Sheila muttered knowingly. Then, “She must have put an awful lot of strain on your back if she weighed that much you couldn’t even carry her.”
Aimee’s jaw dropped, but Colin corrected, “No, not at all. It was just less awkward carrying her that way.”
Then Gwen added, “And he never put her down once over the three mile walk until he reached our front porch. Even then he had a hard time letting her go.”
“Mom, I’m sure he was very happy to finally put me down. I admit, I was dreadfully heavy those days.”
“Oh, no, no, no. I had to go and fetch your father before he handed you over to him.” She recalled with a smile. “As a matter of fact, he sat out on that porch bench for some time fretting about your state until I finally had to shoo him home.”
She couldn’t stop herself, she glanced at him startled. She didn’t remember it that way. Her memory was that of Colin heaving her non-to-gracefully into her fathers outstretched arms before drooping exhausted onto the porch bench. She never saw him after that. She had assumed he had run back to the drive-in to pick up where he left off. She had been angry and cried all night long. Thankfully, her parents thought the tears were due to the injury on her knees.
“Well,” Sheila began, “What luck to have Colin take pity on you on that night, Aimee. However, next time I should hope you take compassion on the strength of his spinal column before you decide to take a horsey ride on his back. You are, after all, much bigger than you were in those days. Wouldn’t you agree Colin?”
Aimee’s eyes popped at the insult, followed by her mouth. Joel, on the other side, roared in laughter obviously enjoying the little show between the two women. An urge to spit had Aimee shutting her mouth but before she could respond, Colin said, “Yes, she certainly has grown.”
Her head snapped, her throat closed, and tears immediately sprung to her eyes. He insulted her. Just like that. And he didn’t look the bit concerned. Snickering came from the far end of the table, which had Gwen once again scolding her youngest son. Her tongue moved frantically within her mouth and she wondered anxiously if she had forgotten how to simply breathe. Air was gushing from her nostrils while a heat swept over her face. Her eyes burned painfully until she could no longer hold back. Scraping back her chair, she fled from the room.
Once in the sanctuary of the small bathroom on the main floor, she slammed the door violently and drove the lock home. She could hear their voices on the other side erupt in a confusion and didn’t think she could bare it when her mother came searching for her with pity pouring from her eyes. Turning to the taps, she turned the knobs and drowned out their voices. Dropping to the toilet she buried her face in her hands and finally allowed the tears to flow. His words hurt more than she imagined.
A pounding on the door caused her to leap. She ignored it. It was her mother’s fault Colin had discovered her true feelings and felt repulsed at the mere thought of being matched up to a big girl such as herself. Her mother was the last person she wanted to see. “Aimee!”
Colin. Lord, why couldn’t it have been her mother? She ignored him, covering her ears childishly instead.
“Aimee, open the door.” When again she ignored him, he banged again and said, “For pity’s sake, you know I didn’t mean that. Open the door, okay? Come on, I can’t apologize properly if you don’t open the door.”
Apology? Wiping at a tear, she stood up and unlocked the door. Colin stood on the other side and looked sheepishly at her. “Can I come in?”
She looked behind her at the tiny quarters, shrugged, then dropped back down on the toilet. To her surprise he not only entered the cramped area, but shut the door behind him as he did. The room suddenly went ten times smaller. He stood towering above her, looking down at her with pity dripping from his pours. She closed her eyes, the thing she hated most was pity. Especially coming from him.
Bending his knees he came to eye level. “You took what I said the wrong way. You know I would never hurt you.”
“‘She certainly has grown’” She mimicked in a peevish manner. “You and your fiancée must enjoy telling each other fat jokes directed at me.”
He made a face. “Don’t be absurd. You are not fat and we certainly do not make any jokes over you. I thought we already discussed this. I do not think your fat. As a matter of fact—”
His words abruptly broke away and he looked searchingly for the right thing to say. Amy sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Pleasantly plump? Remaining baby fat? Which is the more polite way of saying it?”
His eyes narrowed annoyingly, then forebodingly as he stated, “I was going to say sexy—with one hell of a pair of legs.”
The tears stopped immediately. She stared at him. He sighed and reached over to wipe a tear away. “I meant you have certainly grown up since that summer—and quite nicely too.”
She wanted to smile, she wanted to sing, she wanted to lap dance across the dining room table and give him a direct view of those sexy legs. Instead, she stared motionless at him, while her insides did the cha-cha. He too was staring at her as a tiny frown creased its way across his forehead. Slowly, so slowly indeed she wasn’t certain it even occurred, he moved closer.
“Aimee?”
“Yes?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowed, then said, “About the conversation I overheard in the kitchen—”
He eyes bulged and her neck snapped level to her spine.
Again his mouth opened, and she held her own in fear. Then a pounding on the door broke the silence within the small bathroom cubicle. “Colin? What’s taking you so long? Open this door.”
Lowering his eyes, he paused a second before sighing softly, pushed himself up and opened the door. Not even giving Sheila a chance to respond, he brushed past and left her glaring angrily at Aimee before sauntering after her fiancée.
The remainder of the evening passed comparatively uneventful and at exactly eight o’clock Colin was loading his trunk with Aimee’s weekend baggage. Sheila as expected occupied the front passenger seat leaving Aimee the isolation of the back. Which suited her just fine. She didn’t savor the prospect of a flagrantly insincere civil conversation between them.
The ride home comprised mostly of Sheila monopolizing the conversation in what Aimee considered could only be feigned enthusiasm. She spoke brightly about his family and how much she adored them. Then swiftly chattered excitedly about her own family and how thrilled she was for him to meet them. Disinterested, Aimee’s musings were altogether centered on her own issues. Namely, the realization that years of hiding and concealing her true feelings regarding Colin Pearson had been for not. She wondered where they went from there and feared this was the end.
An hour later they pulled into the parking lot of her apartment to Aimee’s relief. The sooner she distanced herself from them, the sooner she’d be happy. Colin’s silent form had troubled her far more than Sheila’s aggravating voice.
The moment of seclusion would have to wait, however, when Colin through the shift gear into park and informed her, “I’ll help you with your bags.”
“Colin!” Sheila scolded him immediately.
Aimee ignored her, instead quickly spoke to the back of Colin’s head. “No thanks, I can make it by myself.”
But he already opened his door and exiting the car but not before Sheila exclaimed, “See Colin, she doesn’t need your help.”
He didn’t even respond. He simply shut the door on the two women, leaving them alone for a few brief moments while he removed Aimee’s baggage from the trunk. But it took Sheila those few minutes to turn snarly on Aimee. “Do you think you can keep your hands off him tonight?”
Distaste lined her mouth as she fictitiously responded with an innocent spite. “Being a green waif and all, I don’t think I’ll know how to keep my pubescent hormones under control.”
She didn’t wait for Sheila’s reaction. Slipping out of the vehicle she slammed the door to the woman’s rebuttal. Colin had a lead on her and already Aimee had to jog to catch up to him. If it weren’t so evident she would have gladly remained behind. Nevertheless, she scurried up to his backside continuing to be silent until they reached her front door.
“Thanks Colin for walking me up and for the—you know, the weekend. I appreciate you driving me home.”
He simply nodded, his eyes averted as he waited while she unlocked the door. Stepping inside, she hung her keys on the key rack and nonchalantly wished him goodnight over her shoulder. She hoped he would wish her a goodnight in return then leave. The confrontation would come she had no doubt about that but she didn’t anticipate tonight as being that night especially with Sheila waiting in the car. However, it did not go by unnoticed that he had yet to leave. Aimee feigned preoccupation with the key holder as she meticulously aligned each key.
“I thought I was your best friend?” His quiet words ended any assurance that tonight would not be that night. Aimee closed her eyes in despair before collecting her courage to face him.
She braced herself for the crush to her afflicted soul when inevitably his next words would forewarn her there could never be anything else between them.
“We became close these past two years. I didn’t realize we were keeping secrets from each other.” They were not the words she expected, they held such misery that she found herself wanting desperately to soothe.
“I’m sorry.” The words hurt even as she uttered them for she was not sorry. She loved him with a heartfelt intensity and sincerity that was as true and pure to her heart as it was to her soul.
He did not register her apology, however, instead he got lost in his reeling thoughts before he asked, “Who is he?”
Aimee paused at the sudden change of subject. Baffled by his words, she shook her head misunderstanding. “Who?”
“The man you’re having an affair with. The one I heard you talking to your Mom tonight about.”
Her jaw dropped, it must have for she was knocked for a loop. “I’m not having an affair.”
“I heard you tell your mother that you were in love and that it was inappropriate,” he accused annoyingly.
Not sure where or how to go from there, Aimee realized that she had escaped having her true feelings revealed. Colin, apparently, had not overheard the entire conversation. From he had mistakenly ascertained that Aimee was in love and having an affair with an unknown man. It never occurred to him that he could possibly be that man.
Aimee sighed, she should have been happy that she had eluded the truth from being revealed but an unexpected disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach. For a short time it was all over. The truth was disclosed, the mask had been removed and the moment of consequence was upon. But true emotions would once again be obscured. “I do love someone but he does not love me.”
That caught his attention. “Why not?”
“He thinks it’s improper.”
He nodded unexpectedly as if understanding.
“Inappropriate?” he quoted the word he had overheard and misconstrued.
Aimee nodded thinking that this would end the subject, however he dismayed her by asking, “Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, is he related to you or something?” His brows drew together in puzzlement.
“No.” Aimee was assertive in responding. “He definitely is not.”
“Then why inappropriate?”
Aimee stared at him and wondered how much more of the truth she could reveal without divulging too much. “He’s older than me.”
His furrowed brows shot up in amazement. “An old guy?”
The dimmed light began to slowly glow once more from the chocolate depths of his eyes and Aimee felt a sigh of relief. One because he had absolutely no idea who her heart belonged to, and two because she missed the cheerful nature of his smiles.
“No, not that old. Besides, it doesn’t matter he has absolutely no feelings for me in return.”
“Is this the same guy you deftly avoided discussing the other night?”
“It might be.” She watched him skeptically.
“Then I take it you haven’t told him?”
“No,” she stiffly confirmed.
“Why not?”
She rolled her eyes. “And have him tell me he’s sorry but he couldn’t possibly feel anything for me in return but bro—fatherly love? I can live without that.”
He went to open his mouth but Sheila’s voice from the corridor entrance interrupted him. “For pity’s sake Colin, it’s getting late and I’m getting tired. Say goodbye already.”
He shot an apologetic look over his shoulder to his fiancée, gave her an acknowledging nod then turned quickly back to Aimee and said with a pointing finger before sauntering off toward the exit, “Tell him.”
The hall corridor remained silent minutes after his departure but Aimee continued to stare at the empty spot from which he vacated. A weary dolor shadowed her eyes as she murmured silently, “I can’t.”
As she closed the door and turned the locks she was overcome by a surge of exhaustion. Yawning with fatigue she tossed her jacket onto a nearby chair and traipsed toward the bathroom without bothering to flick on a light switch. After splashing herself with cold water she reached for her toothbrush but paused upon noticing her reflection in the mirror above the sink. With an unhappy sigh she shook her head at her own appearance. The hurt and disillusion was so clearly apparent that Colin was either very blind or very indifferent.
Angrily she pushed her self away from the bathroom counter, hit the light switch off and treaded her way in the dark to her welcoming bed. Slipping under the covers she ignored the inner voice demanding command of her thoughts and thrust them away until tomorrow. She was far too spent to think profoundly. There would be plenty of time to confront the doom and despair that would be inevitable.
Her head had touched the pillow not more than five minutes when a sound from the outer room caught her attention. For a brief second she wondered why Colin was returning then realized it was not the key in the door she heard but was coming from her patio door instead. At first confused at the sound, she thought it might had been a squirrel or raccoon scratching at the glass doors. Then the door actually jiggled as if someone was trying to get access. A chilling fear stilled her. A quick glance at her bedside phone and she wondered if she had enough time to reach over and call 911.
But before she had time to reach it, a loud crash came from the other room as the patio door was smashed in. She reacted without thinking and let hurl a scream so intense, the walls in her room vibrated. There was the sound of someone scrambling back out of the patio door and more breaking glass. When it was silent for a few minutes after he left, she remained motionless breathing heavy with every frightened gasp. Then when she was certain there were no other sounds coming from the outer room, she snatched up her phone.
With shaky fingers she dialed the first number to enter her head. “Hello?”
“Colin.” It was amazing that just the sound of his voice brought her tremors down a notch.
“Aimee? What’s wrong?” Immediately his cheerful voice became alarmed.
“Colin—” She wanted to say more but the lump in her throat was beginning to restrict hindering her ability to speak.
Then suddenly another voice in the background grated angrily, “What the devil does she want now?”
It was Aimee’s undoing. The tears flooded her vision and trailed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry—”
She hung up but not before she heard him call her name. Putting the receiver down harshly she paused a second then retrieved it once more. When the line was picked up, she said, “Yes, I would like to report a-a b-break in.”
Surprisingly she did not have long to wait. Within five minutes of her call there was a loud rapping on the door. Still in a state of dread she leaped violently before realizing that she must get out of bed to answer it. Entering the room where her intruder had been was an unsettling prospect.
“Aimee?” Colin’s voice sounding distant called out to her. Then not waiting for a response used his key and broke entry. “Aimee!”
He was in her room before she had a chance to respond, which she was certain she was incapable anyway. “What happened? Why is your patio door busted?”
Tear stains remained on her cheeks as she stared up at him trembling, her eyes the size of saucers. He swore then moved quickly to sit on the bedside next to her. “What happened?”
“S-someone b-broke in,” she hiccupped between sobs.
An incensed glare blazed from his eyes but he sounded remarkably collect when he asked, “Did he hurt you?”
She simply shook her head but he visibly sighed with relief before reaching over and taking her into his arms. Aimee felt such a release of fear as she gladly went into his warm and safe arms. She would have happily stayed there for as long as he allowed but the arrival of the police brought her short comforting to a halt.
They inspected the door and looked around her small apartment for any damages but were pleased to inform her all was intact.
“What do you mean pleased?” Colin demanded angrily, his arm still protectively wrapped about Aimee’s shoulders. “Someone broke into her damn apartment.”
The police officer looked up from his notebook and gave the man a tolerant look. “Who are you? The boyfriend?”
“Yes—no, we’re just friends.” Colin didn’t appear any the lesser irate.
“Try to keep a cool head. Your lady friend here has escaped what could have been a worst case scenario.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Colin agreed more calmly.
“We always suggest when something like this happens to have either family or friends stay with them. Is that a problem son?”
The police officer hardly looked older than Colin, however with his imposing uniform he appeared more authoritative. “I was planning on it.”
“Good.” Satisfied he flipped his notebook shut then placed his hat back on his head. “I suggest you put something temporarily up tonight but then suggest you install a security door bar as something permanent.”
“I’ll get right on it.” Colin walked him to the door and saw him out. In the short time away from the shelter of his arms, Aimee felt a cold fear creeping up her spine and waited breathlessly for his return.
When he did, he did not disappoint her. Impulsively he drew her into the crook of his shoulder and turned her toward the bedroom. “You best get some sleep. Everything is going to be all right. I’ll sleep out here tonight. If you need me for anything just holler.”
Her feet came to an abrupt halt and she turned frightened eyes up to him. “Out here?”
“I’m not going home Aimee so just tolerate it for tonight.” He sounded slightly irked but quickly comforted her with, “I promise, no one will get past with me guarding.”
His words were so soothing and so sweet that Aimee thought she would start crying all over again. Instead, she quietly said, “Do you mind sleeping in my room?”
The look on his face should have had her retrieving her plea but under the circumstances, she wasn’t sure if she could endure it when the lights went out and the image of her intruder returned.
“Uh.” Looking utterly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and looked unnaturally anxious. “Sure, if—you know—that’s what you want.”
Nodding she turned and led the way into the bedroom. A tiny spark of excitement penetrated the phobia clouding her rationality. The very idea of sleeping in his protective arms all night long was almost a sweet reward for the traumatic events of the evening up until that point.
Before Colin joined her, he made a quick run to the utility basement in the apartment and returned with several boards to patch up her broken patio door temporarily. When he finally entered her room, she was disgruntled to see Colin carrying an extra pillow from the couch and a blanket. “What are you doing?”
“Making my bed.” Which he proceeded to do on the floor closest to the door.
“On the floor?” Aimee realized she sounded peeved but didn’t care.
“Where else?” He gave her a teasing smile but refrained from meeting her eyes.
“On the bed.” The words were out before she could stop them, not to mention sounded very demanding.
“I don’t think so.” He plopped down on the floor and turned his back to her. “You would probably hog all the blankets.”
“I would not,” she exclaimed, insulted. “I hardly toss and turn at all.”
“Floor will do.”
“But it’s too hard.” She wanted him desperately beside her. If she had to beg then so be it. Anything to be back in his arms.
“I’ve slept on worse.” Then pounding his pillow he resettled his head. “Sleep well Aimee.”
She stared at him. Thankfully he had his back to her or he would have seen the large gape in the middle of her face. Then in a huff she turned her own back on him and pounded her own pillow. However, with a little more force.