“And SpaghettiOs are not meant for human consumption.”
“Yeah, well, somebody has to keep the health food rebellion going on in this house. Pass me that sauce pan, will ya?” I grin, and he chuckles, stretching to lift the pan from the overhead hook. I flip on the gas and pour the SpaghettiOs in the pot he so graciously handed me. “Mmmm, I can smell them already.”
Shaking his head, he grabs a slice of pizza and tosses it on a plate before taking a seat on one of the stools. “You’d think you were deprived as a child.”
I open a drawer by the sink, digging around for a wooden spoon. “Aside from our Sunday morning cinnamon rolls and the occasional ice cream for breakfast, Mom did go a bit heavy on the vegetables and that all-natural shit.” My fingers rest on the handle of the spoon. “Hey, remember that time Mom made those Brussel sprouts and she was so excited because she thought I ate them?” I laugh. “But when she was cleaning up she found the big clump of green in my napkin.”
“I remember.” He smiles, warmth filling his tone. “Look at it this way. How many kids can say their mom made homemade bread, peanut butter, and just about everything else?” Emotion lies thick in my throat, preventing me from answering his question. “Vance?”
Little round O’s become a blur as I stir them around the pot. “When I saw Mom yesterday, she knew who I was, Julian.” I turn around and he stops mid-chew, setting his pizza down on the plate. “I knew it would be fleeting.” I touch my head, still feeling the ruffle of her fingers through my hair. “But for those few minutes I had her back.”
He stares out the picture window overlooking the backyard. “I miss that excitement she used to get in her eyes when I’d tell her something about my day. It never mattered if it was something I thought was insignificant. She always made me feel like it was the most important thing in the world.”
“It was, Julian. To her it was. Because… we were her world.”
“I know.” His eyes fall in line with mine, the light dimmer than before. I picture him coming home after a baseball game with dirt on his knees, the devastation of missing a fly ball written on his face—and Mom, standing there, with open arms and a huge smile. Always focusing on what he did right, instead of what he could do better.
“What were you doing with Ember today?” he asks, and I swivel around to shut off the flame on the stove.
My spirits lift at the mention of her name, a smile extinguishing any previous sadness. “I took her to Nettle Creek.” I chance a look at Julian over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, head tilted with a curious expression.
“Wow.” He glances away, blinking a few times as if trying to figure something out. “That’s… big.”
I shrug, attempting to play it off. “Not really. I just thought she might like it there.”
His gaze lands on mine again. “Yeah, okay. That was our special place with Mom, so the ‘not really’ isn’t believable. Sorry.” He takes a bite of pizza, waiting for me to elaborate. My silence only spurs him on. “I guess it’s safe to say you’ve moved past the lunchbox stage?”
To be honest, I’m trying not to think about where we are. We’ve already bypassed where I know we should have stayed.
In order to avoid his scrutiny, I turn to remove the pot from the stove. “I’m fucked, Julian. That’s what stage I’m at.” I heave out a sigh, forgoing a bowl and removing a metal spoon from the drawer to eat directly out of the pot. As I swing back, the expression on his face reinforces the knot in my stomach.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen you like this….” He chews another bite of pizza, talking around a smug grin. “Ever.”
“That’s because I’ve never met anyone like Mickey before.”
“Mickey?” He clucks his tongue. “Awww, that’s so sweet.”
“Okay.” I grab the dish towel from the counter and toss it at him. “That’s enough.”
“I’m sorry but you have to give me a little leeway here, or at least some time to digest this new information.” He plucks a mushroom off the top of the pizza and pops it into his mouth.
“Whatever. Oh, and by the way, you have plans tomorrow night. You’re coming with me to Ember’s friend Troy’s house. And if you’re thinking about saying no,” I smirk, taking another spoonful of SpaghettiOs, “Avery will be there.”
He matches my grin. “Then I shall be there too. But seriously,” he pauses, his expression sobering, “before you try to distract me from the conversation, I’m really happy for you. I like Ember a lot.”
A loud sigh escapes as I scrape the bottom of the pot before placing it in the sink. “I know I’m a broken record, but I’m fucking terrified she’s going to end up hurt.” I grip the counter with both hands, my knuckles turning white. “It will be all my fault… I don’t think I can live with that.”
Julian’s sudden grasp of my shoulder forces a hard breath from my chest. “How about you just try to live for a change, and take it from there.”