Page 101 of Townshipped
My parents are coming here tomorrow. The two proverbial cars I’ve been doing the splits between just decided to take turns in opposite directions.
I have to choose one or the other.
35
“EM”
Jesse leaves and Aiden I stand staring at one another once the door shuts behind him.
“Well,” he says, taking an even breath. “That’s good news.”
I study Aiden. He looks shut down, but then again, he’s been more closed off ever since the kids arrived—with the exception of the barnyard kiss and then last night when it felt like something opened up and we snuck ice cream and stole kisses together in the kitchen.
“It’s news. Yes. It’s good,” I agree. “I’m grateful they searched for me.”
“And found you,” he adds.
“Yes. And found me,” I agree again.
Is it possible to be physically numbed by information? Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for? I’ve known my time here had an expiration date. This isn’t my home. I had a home. And they found me now—my parents and my best friend.
What else can I say? I look over at Aiden. He’s neutral. His lips are drawn in and his eyes don’t leave mine. He regards me with careful thoughtfulness. His words and the look in his eyes right now say he’s ready for me to move on. And that means my decision has already been made for me.
Ty finishes his last episode and comes walking into the entryway. “The Wild Kwatts went to the tundra, they saw a muskox and the Arctic wolf. Kwiss wants Aviva to make a wolf power suit and Martin wants a diffent suit for muskox power.”
Ty retells the details of the episode using hand gestures and facial expressions making him alternate between looking like what he must think are a muskox and a wolf.
He’s beyond adorable.
I swallow the thick lump welling in my throat and say, “I need to go potty, Ty. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I avoid Aiden’s obvious glance in my direction as I turn through the kitchen and walk down the hall toward my bathroom.
My bathroom.
The hall bathroom.
It’s not mine. Nothing here is.
Once the door shuts behind me, I slide toward the ground, wrap my arms around my knees and let the tears fall while I make what I hope is a decent attempt at keeping my sobs silent.
Maybe ten or fifteen minutes pass—long enough for me to realize I can’t stay in the bathroom forever without everyone thinking I need a locksmith or a consultation with a GI specialist.
I wipe my eyes, holding a cold wet cloth against them to soothe the redness. I take one last solidifying breath and then I open the door and walk out into the hallway, expecting Aiden and Ty to be waiting for me in the kitchen. Instead, the house is uncharacteristically quiet.
I walk toward the island and see a note on the counter.
We’re outside checking the does. Giving you a little room to process all this. Come out when you’re ready. Or we’ll be in after a while. -Aiden
He’s perfect. Even in this. Yes, he’s prone to brooding, and he takes on more than he can chew. But, in all the ways that matter, Aiden is perfect. Maybe it’s his imperfections I love most—and the fact that he let me have the privilege of being the one who got to see him in those moments when he didn’t have it all together.
I walk to the back door. Looking out across the driveway and past the edge of the barn, I can see Aiden milling around in the goat pen. I barely see the top of Ty’s head through the openings in the fence line as he follows his uncle like a shadow.
My phone rings. Only a few people have this number. As soon as I see the area code, I know who’s calling.
“Hello,” I say, keeping my voice from wobbling with nerves.
“Mal? Mallory?”
