Page 28 of A Night of Indulgence and Sloth
Aiden
As a teen, I always dreamed of being rich enough to afford a driver. Whenever I’d watch movies, it always seemed like the coolest characters had a car on standby, just waiting for a summons. I’d succeeded, and the little boy in me still got a thrill every single time I saw that car pulled around for us. It never got old.
For today, though, I don’t want a driver. I only want time alone with Liliana, so I opt to drive us to Haverhill, Massachusetts. The idea of us sitting side by side in the backseat has the blood pumping straight to my dick as I consider all the things we could get up to back there. And as much as I want all of that to happen, it won’t help my cause. Half the time I forget what that even is, but today, it sits front and center in my mind. Don’t make her so uncomfortable that she leaves. I still can’t believe she hadn’t quit after that first day, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we don't lose her.
As soon as I see her outfit, I know I made the right choice. Having her in the passenger seat with her skirt riding up on her creamy thighs is enough of a temptation on its own. At least thisway, I have the distraction of driving to keep the animal inside of me at bay.
The ride has been quiet, aside from the radio, with Liliana keeping herself occupied by watching the scenery pass us by. As someone who hasn’t traveled much, it makes sense that she’s so fascinated by the unfamiliar landscape, and despite the little voice in my head that tells me she’s avoiding me, I know it’s more than that.
Instead of checking into our accommodations, we head straight to Bright Point House, one of the in-care homes that Kaleb and I help fund. They frequently held biweekly grief counseling sessions for children, offered to the community free of charge, and today Liliana would get to experience it herself.
Kaleb and I try to visit at least once a year, and we almost always make sure our stay falls on one of these days. Grief, if left unchecked at any age, can be life changing. But we’ve always felt like youth don’t have the proper tools to cope, at least they didn’t when we were kids. With our company, we could help make a difference and arm the youth of today with the power to deal with that grief.
Bright Point House sits on a large plot of land with sprawling fields and a heavily wooded forest behind it. They have a garden the residents can tend to, a playground for kids to burn off energy, and a pond that is mostly used for feeding the ducks.
Unsurprisingly, the parking lot is almost full when we arrive. Kids run around the yard or hang from the monkey bars while their parents check in with staff. It always both amazes and saddens me with how busy these youth grief nights are. How fucked up must the world be to have so many children in need of help? And what would it take for people to realize it needs to change?
“This place is beautiful,” Liliana exclaims as we walk toward the front door of the building. When we reach the porch, shestops for a moment, staring with unblinking eyes at the kids as they run and play, as if she’s caught up in an old memory.
“What’s wrong?” I place my hand on her arm, jolting her from whatever had caused that pained expression.
“Oh. Nothing, sorry. Seeing all of those kids kind of sucked me back in time. But I’m sure this place isn’t anything like the farm.” Her voice is distant, like she’s trapped inside her head instead of standing beside me.
Her comment causes the hair to rise on my neck. “What do you mean, ‘isn’t like the farm’?” I ask, desperate for a peek into her past, but she’s saved from answering when a short, plump woman approaches.
“Well, if it isn’t Aiden Daniels,” Carla, the woman who runs the care home, says before pulling me into an embrace.
“Nice to see you too, Carla.”
“You must be Liliana,” she says, bustling toward her and throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. “I’ve heard so many great things about you, dear. Thank you for coming.”
“This place is incredible,” Liliana replies when they break apart, and Carla’s grin widens further.
She takes us through the house, giving a quick tour for Liliana’s sake before leading us into her office. She brings over a pitcher of lemonade and a tray of molasses cookies, then sits behind her desk.
We spend the next hour discussing their achievements over the last year, where most of their funding is going, and areas they’ve noticed need improvements. Liliana and Carla hit it off, sharing ideas back and forth until we have more plans and strategies than we could possibly implement in the next twelve months.
When the meeting ends, Lily hands her a business card and assures Carla that she can message anytime. Before we leave, Carla introduces us to some of the children in their care and Iwatch as Liliana practically blossoms before my eyes. She gets right down to their level, making them laugh and feel important. Maybe this is what haunted her earlier. Could it be as simple as not wanting to see a child sad, or was it more than that? The haunted expression in her eyes told me it was far worse, and I wish I could ask her more about her past. What happened at the farm that she hoped wouldn’t happen here?
After another hour of visiting and a home-cooked meal, we say our goodbyes to Carla on the porch.
“Make sure you lock this one down, Aiden. A smart woman like her won’t wait around forever.” Carla lowers her voice, as if trying to whisper, but the bright red that now stains Liliana’s features tells me she failed.Time to get out of here.
“I know. Thanks for having us, Carla,” I shout back as we walk toward the car.
“I’m really glad I got to come today,” Liliana says as we drive toward the bed-and-breakfast we’re staying at. “We should open up more centers like this in other cities, too. If my sister or I had this type of help when we were growing up, things might have been different.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye and catch her wiping away a tear that slipped down her cheek. My heart breaks at the sight. I’m desperate to push, to find out more about what happened to make her this sad, but I hold back. As much as I want to help slay the demons currently tearing her apart, it’s not my place. She doesn’t owe me anything, certainly not her trauma.
Instead, I reach over and clasp her hand in mine. “I think that’s a great idea. When we’re back home, we can meet with Kaleb and put together a plan.”
She squeezes my hand and whispers, “Thank you.”
I thought she would pull away, take her hand back and end the moment, but to my surprise she keeps mine firmly inher grasp. Whatever she’s dealing with right now must be bad enough for her to accept the comfort I offer. She hasn’t exactly been avoiding me at work, but our relationship isn’t as easy as the one she has with Kaleb.
I pull into a spot at a cozy-looking country home and unclasp my fingers from hers to park the car. Our eyes meet, but neither one of us speaks. Temptation surges through me at our closeness. What would she do if I leaned over and kissed her? Would she kiss me back, or would that one move ruin everything we’ve worked for these last few weeks.
Her phone vibrates in the center console, breaking the spell and stopping me from kissing her senseless.
