Page 25 of Falling for You Again

The lines in Aaron’s forehead deepen. “Promise you’ll consider my offer.”

I slowly nod. It isn’t the proposal I imagined receiving. Then again, I haven’t imagined ever being proposed to again.

I catch the time on the kitchen clock. “Oh! I have to run. I have a table to finish.” I slide off the stool, as much in a rush to leave and process our conversation as I am to get to the shop.

“I’d love to watch you work someday.”

I smile. I would love that too.

I take our dishes to the sink and rinse them.

He retrieves his phone. “I’ll order you a ride.”

“You don’t have to. I can take the T.”

He follows me to the front door. “I want to.” His thumb taps in an order after I give him my address.

He now knows where I live.

That fact leaves me feeling pleasantly elated.

“Thank you.” I collect my gown and shoes. “Thanks for the walk-of-shame clothes too.” I tug at the shirt.

“They’re my sister’s.” A smile lifts the side of his mouth. He knew I assumed they belong to Fallon.

My ride arrives and Aaron gives me a long, lingering kiss goodbye. “Think about it,” he says again.

How can I not? It isn’t every day that a girl has the opportunity to marry a practical stranger, not once in her life, but twice.

Chapter 11

Going Down?

I view my life in three separate acts: before, during, and after. Unoriginal, but whatever.

The before years are the ones leading up to when I was ten. Take away the scary times Mom forgot me in the grocery store or Dad left me for hours alone in the car while he visited a friend in an apartment building stained with graffiti, or the mornings I missed school because my parents had been up late partying. On those mornings, I often woke to the musty smell of pot, powder on the tables, and wine-stained glasses cluttering the sink. Sometimes there would be a stranger passed out on the couch. They’d stare bleary-eyed at me when I poked them awake, asking who they were.

Apart from that, I was my happiest self in those years because we were together. We laughed constantly, and they comforted me when I was sad. Mom and I visited the library almost every afternoon, reading books in the aisles, whispering passages to each other, giggling when someone would shush us. Dad and I acted out my favorite fairy tales at the park before we fed stale bread to the geese. On weekends, my parents and I hunted for shells on the Cape and ate lobster until the stars came out.

The during years were the ones where I lived with Uncle Bear. Eight years, to be exact. I spent my time with him holding my breath, waitingfor the day my parents returned. I clung to the good memories, even though Uncle Bear would remind me of the bad times when he had to rescue me from my parents. I loved Mom and Dad to the moon and back, just as they had loved me. They weren’t perfect. We all had our faults. And those times they hurt my feelings or inadvertently left me somewhere? I know they didn’t mean to. I just knew when they came back, everything would go back to the way it was before.

But it hadn’t.

Enter the after years.

I was sixteen when they returned, and like any teenager who felt abandoned, I was angry. And when they didn’t invite me to come live with them, my animosity toward them only magnified. So they gave me space.

You’re better off with your uncle,Mom told me when I asked why they didn’t want me to move back home.

Wouldn’t moving be a hassle?Dad answered.

Eventually, my anger cooled and we were at least civil toward one another. Dad would watch the Patriots game with me and Uncle Bear. Mom would drop off an extra casserole on the nights Uncle Bear or I didn’t have time to cook because of work or school. But the chasm had been formed, and outside of working together at Artisant, they never tried to close the distance between us.

After I turned eighteen and moved into my own apartment on a floor sandwiched between my uncle and my parents, I started seeing a therapist. She advised I needed to let go of my childhood fantasy. My family would never be the same as we were before. Not only because I grew up but also because my parents were different people. They’d been through a lot.

It still doesn’t change that I want to be with my family, even when it seems they don’t want me around, or know how to act when I am. I just keep hoping things will change between us. It’s why I live in the same building and want us all to keep working at the studio. Artisant Designs is the only place where we feel like a family. That shop holds us together.

After this morning with Aaron, though, I feel like I’m on the precipice of my fourth act. How can I not be? Between Uncle Bear selling and Aaron’s proposal, my life will change again in a big way.

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