Page 14 of The Long Haul

But it does pertain to her, so I’m counting it.

“Hey, Carson,” Aubrey calls out, getting my attention. Seeing what she’s looking at, I start chuckling.

“That,” my dad responds instead, “is a priceless work of art.”

“Legos?” She asks in understandable confusion.

“It’s one of a kind,” he informs her with a straight face. The man is clearly a gifted actor. His talents deserve to be on the stage.

“Thank God,” she mutters.

Dad gasps, holding his chest as if wounded, and staggers back a step. See? Oscar worthy performance.

In fact, I applaud it. He’s earned it. Dad takes it and runs with it. “Carson gets it. My masterpieces are in various displays throughout our home.”

Aubrey nods. “My apologies. Genius isn’t always appreciated in it’s own time.” Apparently, Dad isn’t the only person in the family with acting chops.

Yes, I included her as a Jenkins.

Regardless of what does or doesn’t happen between her and I, she’s stuck with the Jenkins clan. My family won’t allow for anything else.

Unless I’m misreading the signals and she’s not interested in me as I am her. If I attempt to explore it and she’s not on the same page, that could make things awkward for her when the others, and I have no doubt they will, invite her to future gatherings.

A predicament that puts me between a rock and a hard place.

If the status quo continues, I’ll still get to see Aubrey – assuming she agrees to remain in contact with my family. But it won’t be with her by my side as I’d prefer. Instead, we’ll both be there and, eventually, she’d bring a plus one and I’d have to see her being a couple with another man. Making that man a daddy.

If I take a chance and she feels this bond between us, then I could have everything I’d ever wanted with the woman of my dreams.

My family wins and I lose.

Or I win and so does my family.

I know which outcome I want.

What does Aubrey want?

Watching her with my dad, him taking her on a tour as if at a gallery showing of his creations, I’m struck once again with how seamlessly she fits in.

Is it selfish of me to possibly risk her losing this?

It isn’t hard to see that she’s starved for affection. We’re huggers and Aubrey is soaking it up. When Mom asks for help in the kitchen, Aubrey immediately volunteers and I hear them in there laughing and having a grand old time.

Now she’s asking Dad questions about what he’s going to build next, hinting she wouldn’t mind something for her collection of personal mementos.

Dad hugs her for that. Calling her “a treasure.”

“I think Aubrey is now Dad’s favorite,” I say, having fun with Catherine.

Catherine, both of us knowing full well our parents love us all equally, laughs. “She’s all of ours.” She nudges my shoulder. “Not as much as she is yours, though.”

“I’m being nice,” I claim, wondering if I’m that obvious about how gone I am for her.

She snorts. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

“I’m five years older than you, young’un.”

“Are not,” she giggles.

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