Steve dropped his arms and backed up, shaking his head. “You probably already spent that much on the gas getting there and back.” He put his hands in his pockets like he used to after a bad shift when he had a lot he needed to talk about but couldn’t bring himself to tell her.
When he’d been a firefighter, she got it. Home was home, work was work, and home meant being away from the things he had to deal with when he went into fires, or worse, what was left over when they were put out. Now that work and home were the same thing, if things were bad, she wanted to know, wanted to help. But pushing Steve to talk never got her anywhere. It was better just to let it go.
“Yeah, probably. Though I had to use Caleb’s car today, and you know he won’t let me pay him back for gas.” Amelia turned back to the counter and sorted through her supplies. “After you get changed, can you light the grill?”
Steve’s steps were heavy, and Amelia couldn’t tell if he was heading toward her or toward the stairs, so she jumped a little when he ended up by her side. Her head barely reached his shoulder, and she always had a silent urge to rest her head there.
“Caleb’s car? Why did you take that piece of shit?” He snagged a washed green bean out of the bowl on the counter, and Amelia playfully batted him away.
“I couldn’t find my keys,” she muttered, wishing she didn’t have to admit her mistake to Steve.
He snorted. “Again?”
Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes, using the small paring knife on the counter to pierce the plastic wrap covering the steak. “Yes, again.”
“M, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on.” He slid his hand under her hair and rubbed the base of her neck. She shivered and leaned into his touch.
“I know. I know.”
“I’m worried about you,” Steve said, but the judgment she thought she heard in his tone was erased when he kissed her temple and then worked his fingers up to the base of her skull. Amelia put the knife down and closed her eyes. “You seem distracted lately. I think taking care of your dad is wearing on you. Maybe . . .” Steve hesitated. “Maybe we need to think about a home.”
Her eyes snapped open. Not this conversation again. She picked up the knife and freed the last three steaks from their packages, Steve’s touch now irritating rather than relaxing.
“Ellie dropped out of med school to come take care of Dad, and I can’t take care of him one or two days a week so she can work her shift at the station? Plus, we’d have to sell Dad’s house to pay for it.” The house where she and Ellie grew up, where all the memories of her mom lived, where she’d always imagined bringing her kids for Thanksgivings and Christmases. If it weren’t for her father and that house in Broadlands, Ellie would never step foot in this town again for anything beyond a marriage, funeral, or national holiday. Amelia couldn’t really blame her sister for her disdain for the little town. Ellie was an adventurer, an explorer. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family; it was just that they lived here, or at least that was what Amelia had told herself over and over again.
“You guys are far too attached to that place.” Steve dropped his hand and backed away. “All I know is that we can’t go on like this. The house is a mess all the time, you’re running around half-blind with exhaustion, and now you’ve lost a set of keys? You keep saying life will get back to normal soon, but when?”
The counter in front of Amelia was covered in half-cut-up veggies, a plate of raw meat ready for seasoning, potatoes wrapped for baking, and a cake cooling on the counter. It looked like a disaster, but it wasn’t—it was the makings of a meal. It was a meal that would not only feed and sustain her family but also bring them some joy, comfort, and time together. To Steve it looked like a mess. To Amelia it looked like pieces to a puzzle.
“I don’t know, but let’s give it more than a few months, okay?” Amelia dusted some salt and pepper over the sirloin. “I can’t give up on my dad that easily. And you know Ellie. There’s no way she’d go for putting Dad in a place.”
Steve took another step back and sighed. He knew Ellie almost as well as Amelia did. She’d do anything for their father and fight anyone standing in her way. He also wasn’t as good at convincing Ellie to change her mind as he was at swaying Amelia.
“Yeah, I know.” He pushed one of the kitchen chairs into the table and rearranged a stack of school papers that’d been collecting there for the past week. He spread his hand across the pile and then stretched his neck from one side to the other like his collar was too tight. “There needs to be an endgame—that’s all I’m saying. This can’t be our new life now. We’ve got enough going on . . .”
Steve trailed off, and Amelia picked up where he stopped, cutting the last of the peppers for the salad. “I know. You think I don’t know that? I’m the one dealing with this day in and day out . . .”
“Amelia,” Steve cut in. His voice was strange. She couldn’t tell if it was more of the irritation she’d gotten used to hearing in nearly every conversation they shared, or if his tone was mixed with something else. Concern, maybe? Fear? Whatever it was, it sent a chill down her spine, and she spun around on her stubby black heels.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Steve stood frozen by the key rack on the wall. Hanging there were his keys, the ones Caleb had been holding earlier with the keys to the truck, plus another set for the storage shed and the padlock on the garage. The final hook held a key chain with pictures of Kate and Cora, the plastic surrounding it cracked at the corners. A rectangular library card and a value-points card from the local gas station were sandwiched between three keys—one for Amelia’s house, one for her father’s house, and one for Amelia’s car.
“My keys!” she gasped, and rushed across the kitchen. Her first instinct was to laugh at her mistake. How could she have missed them? She must’ve been in such a state that morning that she just didn’t notice when she did a quick scan of the rack.
Then she saw Steve’s face. For a moment, it was the face of a stranger, someone who was trying to figure out the person standing in front of him instead of the woman he’d been married to for ten years. Her smile dropped.
“I swear I checked here.” She ran through her memory, but with the busted tires and her mad dash to Chandler, the details were hazy. Steve nodded, tight-lipped like he was trying to hold something back, and then his shoulders dropped and his forehead softened.
“I’m sure you did.” He kissed Amelia’s forehead and gave her another squeeze, the warm feeling in her midsection back again. “I’ll go get changed and get the grill ready. You want the girls to set the table?”