Page 49 of Tough Love

He jumps off the seat, and I try to catch his arm, yet he slips free. Murmurs sweep the room as I dash after him and scoop him up, trying to contain his flailing arms and legs. He thrashes against me as I lift him into the air and carry him back to our seats. One of his shoes gets tangled in the hem of my pencil skirt, and as I try to take the final step forward, my legs are restricted and I buckle.

All I see is the pew heading straight for Briar as I stumble, the boy too distressed to notice the impending disaster.

I let go, hoping if he falls earlier that he’ll miss hitting his head and get less of a bump when he hits the floor. My ankle rolls and I suck in a breath, preparing for the worst. Dad lunges forward to catch my arm, but there’s no point helping me, I’m in an unstoppable fall, my bodyweight ensuring I’m going down no matter what.

All I care about is Briar.

My knees hit the ground, my hip colliding with Briar’s legs as he’s whisked away from me, narrowly missing the unrelenting wooden pew, and straight into Evan’s arms.

“Are you okay, Amelia?” Dad helps me onto the seat, immediately running a cautious hand over my rolled ankle.

It smarts, but it’s not the end of the world. “I’ll be fine.”

The service picks up where it left off, the pastor’s voice fading into the background as I turn to check on Briar.

“I’m so sorry, buddy,” I whisper.

He reaches out and climbs from Evan to kneel beside me, wrapping his arms around my neck as the residual sobs shudder through his body. “It’s okay, Aunty.”

“Are you all right?” Evan whispers.

I nod, fighting back the tears of frustration at what a fuck-up this day is turning out to be. I focus on the pastor, although his words don’t register. What does, is the strong yet sure hand that rests on my right knee. I look down to the connection, warmth spreading through me at the simple gesture. Evan stares ahead as though nothing is amiss, and shuffles a little closer while the closing sermon is given.

The guests file out in the same, slow respectable pace when all is said and done. I choose to stay in my seat until the last person has exited through the doors that lead to the reception area. Briar’s eyes are heavy as he leans against my shoulder, his arms tucked in to his stomach. It makes me thankful we decided to spare him the wake after all.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Evan offers, sitting at an angle so he can face us.

Before I can say anything either way, he reaches down and picks up my shoulder bag and then extends a hand as he stands to help me up. I loop my arms under Briar’s, adjust him onto my hip, and then place my palm in Evan’s, relishing the warmth in his touch.

“Are you coming to the burial?” I ask. For some reason the thought he might be there too calms my nerves.

“I hadn’t planned on it.” He glances to where my parents stand at the far end of the chapel, seeing people off. “I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I stop short of begging him to join us.

“If you’re sure.” His gaze searches mine, and a fire ignites low in my belly at the intensity of it all.

Here’s a man who has no obligation to my family, offering his time freely. A man who, each time I see him, leaves me wishing even more for another chance to see him again.

To hell with hidden messages and beating around the bush. “I’d really like it,” I say. “I feel better when you’re around.” If Kath’s death is going to teach me anything good, it’ll be to tell it how it is before the opportunity is lost.

“Okay then.” He holds a hand out, silently asking if we should leave.

Mum smiles as we approach, reaching up to cup Evan’s face in her hands. “Thank you.” Her gaze darts to me. “It’s lovely knowing Amelia’s going to have somebody there for her when we leave tomorrow.”

Right.It suddenly falls into place: why Dad invited him, why he came. They were worried aboutme. I look up to Evan, worried what I’m about to find, but he surprises me with a warm smile.

“I’ll do what I can to help, Mrs Harris.”

Dad shakes his hand, a silent test of the man. He seems satisfied as we break away to head to the car.

“You can follow us,” Mum states to Evan, placing her bag in the footwell of the car. She sucks in a deep breath, her strength returning. “I just realised too, perhaps Evan could give you a lift afterward, Amelia?”

The suggestion makes complete sense, but still, I feel like I’m overstepping boundaries, rushing things, pushing obligations onto the guy. We’ve only just reconnected nine years after an abrupt breakup, and already she’s treating us like an item again. I shoot her a firm look in the relative privacy of the car as I lean over Briar to help do his buckle up.

“Where do you need to go?” Evan asks as I emerge from the sedan.

I shut the door first—little ears and all. “We didn’t want to put Briar through the wake as well, so I was going to take us out for something to eat, just play it by ear and see what he wants to do.”

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