Page 94 of Again, In Autumn

I feel him waiting, feel him elsewhere. He presses into me, and my breath catches when I involuntarily push back.

We’re pressed tightly together, molded like two tree trunks growing into one another, and it’s not close enough. He holds me against him, and I hold him to me. It feels like it could have always been this. We could have come back to this house every year and relived that first summer, enjoying our springs and winters and autumns twirled up in each other’s lives and futures.

That first time wouldn’t have been the last time. I would have ravished this man. Devoured him. Explored his body and mind and soul in more ways than two months would have allowed.

Adam whispers against my mouth, “Vee.”

“Yeah?” I try.

Something cracks behind us.

Adam flinches, and I freeze. He stares at me, a spell broken, and our eyes ask the other what to do. Still pressed into me, our bodies flush with the tree, Adam turns his head.

Alice stands in the woods, picking up a toy.

Without looking at us, she calls out, “Auntie Vee, I found one missing!”

I slide my arms from Adam’s neck, and he releases his hold. He turns his back to me, and I push my shirt down, sighing, “Alice, what are you doing out here?”

I rush ahead and scoop her up, holding her on my hip. The poncho crinkles. She taps me on the nose with her hard plastic lizard.

Adam sniffles and his feet make noise, and I glance back at him as he adjusts his pants, smiles at Alice, and then directs me with a sad well-that-happened kind of look. I don’t know what kind of look I return. I’m too shocked and confused internally to process my external response.

If we hadn’t been interrupted, what was he going to say? Was it: “We can’t do this, it’s a bad idea” or “Vee, I’ve loved you fourteen years and I’ll die if I can’t have you.” Or maybe he would have kissed me. The way he used to. A kiss that felt like more than just lips touching, more like insatiable hunger, falling without caring if you’ll be caught. Sinking into a dream.

He croaks, “Let’s go assess the damage.” Adam marches onward toward the yard.

Alice draws a line in the mashed potatoes in my hair.

When we reach the others, they’re laughing, giddy, picking up trash and containers.

David asks, “Where have you been?”

Adam stretches his arms. “Tracking down this little runaway.” He gestures to Alice, who squirms out of my arms.

It’s quiet and peaceful now that the shenanigans have ceased. We’re all a mess. Francesca has her raincoat hood over her head and Diego has shed his sweater, shaking it free of leaves and spaghetti. Grayson makes snow angels in the grass to wipe himself clean.

Adam rests his fingers in his belt loops. He’s breathing from his nose but the way his upper body rises and falls, I wouldn’t call him relaxed. I watch him for signs that he wants to talk about what happened. That’s what we should do. We’re adults now. We need to talk about things.

“I’m going to jump in the lake,” he announces.

“Adsy, it’s freezing!” Maggie says.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” he groans.

Grayson shouts, “I want to go swimming!”

Adam strips off his hoodie, displaying two awkward handprints of whipped cream on his not awkward body. Strong, lean muscles and a ladder of abdominals just begging to be climbed. He kicks off his shoes.

If his jeans go next, I will lose my mind.

Francesca grapples for Grayson, who also wants to jump into the cold, dark lake.

Caroline’s jaw drops. “Isn’t it too cold, aren’t you going to get hypothermia?”

“It’s not that cold,” Diego answers.

“Adam’s always been a bit of a daredevil,” Maggie chuckles, watching him run off toward the dock.

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