Page 134 of Again, In Autumn

“Please bring him,” I tell Adam.

The thirty-minute drives go by too fast. Even with me driving as slowly as possible to soak in every moment that Adam stares at me, touches some part of my shoulder or leg, and admonishes me for insisting we wait in a backwoods McDonald’s drive-thru for sustenance.

“Is this even a town?” he chides, looking around at the gas station on one side and the farmland on the other. “Okay, that’s a child who just walked by. They have children working here.”

I take my hash browns with a thank you very much and explain what I’ve learned in the last year. “We’re old, my friend. Everyone looks like a child to us because we still think we’re twenty-five.”

“I am twenty-five,” he says. “I refuse to believe anything different.”

We stop in Loxley on our way home to buy Maggie brown sugar for her sweet potatoes. I try to tell Adam she could use what I have at the house, but he insists we buy some. After several minutes of handholding and slowly taking the scenic tour of the market interior, plus a briefly graphic make-out in the bathroom hallway, I tell Adam, “I have to go home, now. I have pies to make!”

He groans in disagreement but lets us get back in the car. He kisses me goodbye at the stop sign before I pull into the driveway.

Adam requests, “Sit beside me at dinner.”

“Um, no.”

“Why?”

To his amused face, I say, “Because you’ll put your hands on me under the table, I won’t be able to get through the meal and the children will be scarred. Think of the children. This is a family holiday. It should be kept clean.”

Adam thinks for a moment. No argument must have come to mind.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But will you come to bed with me tonight? I can’t fuck you in your house with all those people in there. Grayson’s already suspicious.”

I watch his fingers twirl around mine. “What are you talking about?”

“When we were in the bathroom last night. He kept asking about love.” He glances up from under his eyebrows. “I wondered if it had something to do with the separation. He asked about the rock I carved.”

“Oh.”

Francesca and David tried so hard to not let the kids be affected by the break, but how could they not? Their dad moved out for months and now suddenly they’re one big happy family. He’s probably suffering a little bit of whiplash.

I ask Adam, “What did you tell him?”

He shrugs, kissing my knuckles. “I told him I didn’t know much, but I write songs about love. I told him love is something you express. When you love someone you have to show them. Do stuff for them. That’s why I carved you that rock.”

“Is that your way of saying that your love language is gifts?” I joke.

Adam’s very serious. “It’s my way of saying that it’s not enough to just have feelings. I need to know that I can love you, Vienna, in action. And that…well…” He drifts off, but I know what he’s saying.

That I will love him with my actions, too.

A few steps behind him, I offer a soft, chaste kiss on lips and run my palm over his smooth cheek. He’s going to need a lot of assurances from me after I hurt him last time. This is just moving a little faster than I can comprehend.

Without me saying a word, Adam finds my eye and nods. “I know.” His forehead leans against mine. “I know. I’ll take it slow.”

He kisses me again, and I can tell this one is supposed to take up some time, but I push him away insisting that someone will come outside any second. Adam walks hesitantly back to his house with several final looks over his shoulder.

I press my fingers into my cheeks, trying to hide my giddy smile. My chest feels light. My stomach fluttery. I’m still in a little bit of shock that this is happening between us.

But it’s a good kind of shock.

Inside the house, the kids and Caroline watch Santa Claus wave out the parade. Kate’s busy on her phone. I bake a pumpkin pie and a pecan pie while David keeps an eye on his turkey, green beans, and rolls. Maggie and Diego have been tasked with their sides, and Adam said he’s got wine covered.

I’ll feel tipsy just having him within arm’s length of me.

Francesca calls out from the living room, “Y’all come look at this dog! This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen. He better win this thing. If they give it to another Scottish Deerhound or terrier, I swear to God, I’m going to send a strongly-worded letter.”

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