“Kate and I are headed out. You’ll have sweet silence soon,” Amelia reassured her daughter, who just sighed and stomped up the stairs, apparently preparing for adolescence.
Steve jumped the last few stairs, and Amelia had to hop out of the way to keep the whole tangled crew from slamming into her. She wobbled a little, and Steve, now holding Kate to his side, with one hand under her legs, wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her into him so she didn’t fall. She tried to laugh, tried to feel safe in his arms like she always did, but something made her glance over at Caleb instead.
He was watching, very careful to hide his focus this time, and there was something on his face that she’d never seen—a toughness around his eyes, a glare that seemed to be completely involuntary and pointed directly at Steve. It made goose bumps race up her arms. She moved away from the horse and his rider and tried to slow her thoughts and pulse.
“Hey, Katie-baby, we gotta go, girlfriend.” Amelia put out her arms to her daughter, and she jumped from Steve’s back to her mom’s arms without touching the ground. Her hair smelled strongly of hair spray, and there was sticky residue that stuck to Amelia’s cheek when one of her pigtails grazed her face.
“I’m ready now. Do you think Dawson will like my hair?”
Steve growled playfully under his breath. “Uh, I don’t think I like this ‘going on a playdate with a boy’ thing at all.”
“You are so silly, Daddy. It’s not a date.”
“Well, that Randy fella better remember that too,” Steve said, this time to Amelia, and Caleb shifted, eyes still on the ground. “You look too pretty to be hanging out at some guy’s house.”
Amelia looked over her dark skinny jeans, deep green blouse with buttons up the front half of the silky fabric, and an off-white sweater hanging loosely around her body. She still wore her plain old M necklace and hadn’t put any extra effort into her outfit. Okay, not true, she’d made sure to avoid jeans with tears in the knee, yoga pants altogether, and any shirts that had stains that didn’t blend into the pattern on the shirt. Which left her with only a few options.
“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, I promise you,” she responded, standing on her tiptoes to give him a little kiss on his cheek. “This guy will not be impressed with my Target clearance-rack purchases from two years ago. He has a designer version of . . . everything.” She picked up her oversize bag stuffed full of gluten-free, peanut-free, sugar-free munchies just in case Randy was as into designer snacks as he was designer everything else.
“You only say that ’cause you don’t know what a babe you are,” Steve said, almost tussling Kate’s hair again but thankfully stopping short before causing a repeat of the hair fiasco of fifteen minutes earlier. Amelia placed her on the ground and patted her back.
“Run out to the car and get in your seat.” Amelia clicked the Unlock button on her keys till she heard a beep. “I’ll be right there.” She yanked a small purple-and-black backpack off the kitchen chair in front of her, yelling just as the storm door’s hinges squeaked. “And don’t forget your bag!”
Kate ran back in, her sneakers squealing against the tile, and snagged the bag with a quick “Thanks.” Steve chuckled and followed the invisible trail of six-year-old energy she left behind her.
“Caleb, I got the combo.” Steve flicked up a blue Post-it held between his fingers. “M, see you at dinner?”
“Yup, I’ll grab Dad and then be home around six.”
“Sounds great,” Steve said, not even trying to hide his sarcastic tone. Without looking back, he pushed through the heavy door that separated the office from the house.
Alone in the kitchen with Caleb only a few feet away, Amelia didn’t know what to say or do. He was still standing behind the chair at the foot of the table, the chair everyone avoided because there wasn’t enough room to push it out without crashing into the oven door. There wasn’t enough time to finish their conversation, but she thought he’d look up, or say . . . something.
But, no, he stood still as a statue, hands in his pockets, which made his sagging pants dip even lower, straining against the decrepit belt. Annoyance surged through Amelia. Fine. She could play this game. She hefted the bag back up onto her shoulder and reset her feet, determined to appear strong.
“Good-bye, Caleb,” Amelia said, eyes focused on the door to the driveway. She pushed in the chair she’d been standing beside and put one ballet flat–clad foot in front of the other. At first, he was frozen, ignoring her as though she’d been the one following him instead of the other way around. But just as she was about to pass, his hand shot out and grabbed hers. A shock went through her fingers, up her arm, to her elbow and shoulder. She had to hold back a gasp.
“What the . . . ,” she started to say, but Caleb interrupted, his fingertips pressing against her skin.
“Don’t go.” His eyes were clear and that familiar bluish green that she’d always been jealous of, like the sky before a tornado warning. She started to yank her hand away, but then he said it again, this time a little louder. His voice was thick, heavy, foreboding—full of . . . something. “Don’t go.”
The annoyance floated away, and the fear came crashing back down on her like a curtain dropping after a theater performance. Alone with Caleb had always been a comfortable place. Caleb was usually a place of familiarity and friendship, but there was nothing safe about the way his jaw was taut, clenched, eyes pleading with her to listen and his fingers like a vise against her own. With a surge of panic and determination, she yanked hard and fast to free her hand from his.
“You have to stop this, Caleb. We can go back to the way we were before. You can stop . . .”
“You can’t go to that man’s house, M.” He took an aggressive step toward her, then another. If she didn’t move soon, she’d be trapped; she’d have to listen. “Stay, M. Stay here and I promise to stop. Okay?”
He was close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek and make out the fine, nearly colorless lashes fringing his eyelids. He was taller than she remembered. She stumbled backward, trying to put some space between them.
“If Steve doesn’t have a problem with it, then you shouldn’t either.”