AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did you feed her three popsicles?” she asks.
I chuckle, grabbing the wrappers and adding them to the trash. “No,” I say. “That was all me. I’m just mourning the loss of my favorite aunt. You’re going on a cruise without me. I was only trying to eat my feelings.”
She laughs, stepping forward to lean with her elbows on the kitchen island.
“I am sorry, Ellis,” she says. “We could try to buy another ticket.”
“No!” The word jumps out a bit too quickly, and I try to think of a way to reel it back in. “No,” I correct. “It really is okay. I just want you to take a bunch of pictures so I can live vicariously through you. It’ll probably be all gross and snowy by then.”
Brian moves to the side of the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water, pressing it to the fridge to fill up the cup before taking a long drink.
“Yeah, well, you know,” B begins, “winter is my favorite season, so I’ll be sad to miss some of it.”
“An absolute ice queen,” I tease.
Brian chokes on his water, quickly recovering when he finds his wife’s withering glare pointed in his direction.
“I might have gotten a little snippy at the restaurant,” B admits as an explanation.
I grab my bag from the island, sliding it over one shoulder. “In that case,” I say, “I better get going. For one, it’s past my bedtime. For two, I’d hate to interrupt your arguing–or the loud and very private playing Eloise informed me about earlier.”
Brian’s laugh booms across the kitchen and B quickly shushes him. Her cheeks are bright pink when she turns to me, her mouth hanging open like she wants to say something, but she can’t for the life of her get herself to think of anything.
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand in her direction, striding down the hall to the closet to retrieve my coat. “It’s not like I don’t know how babies are made. My middle school social education was strong. A great friend group ensured my knowledge was top-notch.”
B rolls her eyes, trailing behind me as I work my way to the door with my coat now on my body. “Great,” she mutters. “I’m a failure as a parent.”
“Well,” I say. “You can just blame that on Mom for dying. It was a little rude.”
“Such dark humor,” B responds, but she doesn’t stop herself from chuckling. It’s been over ten years, and we all have to cope somehow.
She draws me into another warm hug, proving that she’s not as icy as she seems. My aunt holds on a moment longer than usual. It’s what she does whenever I bring up my mother, and it’s somehow uncomfortable and comforting at the same time.
“You smell like coffee,” she says before pulling away.
I twist my head around, trying to see the stain on the back of my coat. It’s an impossible task, so I obviously fail, but I catch a whiff of espresso and realize I’ll need to wash the thing as soon as I get home.
“I had a run-in with a latte,” I confess, a smile splitting across my face.
“Getting into fights, too?” she asks. “Honestly, what kind of guardian was I?”
“A great one.” I tighten my coat on my body and open the door, allowing the cool night air to whip through the hall.
It isn’t until we say our final goodbyes, and I’m pulling away from the house, that I realize I got a message response regarding my post on the freelance site already.
The fact that someone is considering taking the job makes me believe I might not be that pitiful after all.
I think about the three popsicles I ate by myself and the stains on my shirt.
No, nope. Definitely a sad excuse for a human.
Three
Griffin
After three hours of staring at a computer screen in what is essentially a dark closet, I’ve decided that I don’t even enjoy music anymore.
Which is an absolute shame and honestly a waste of an entire childhood.
