“Is that avoidance or denial?” she asks. “Who knows, but it’s valid. Since I got kicked out of the house after Pax died, I didn’t get the choice to leave the house we shared. I took Pax’s belongings with me but then…I lost them anyway.”
I interlace my fingers with hers and squeeze her hand gently. Did she grieve, or has she been too busy to do it? Maybe we’re not that different. Or perhaps I want to find someone who’ll understand me. Is it so wrong to want to have a friend who recognizes that I’m broken and doesn’t try to fix me? This feels good. I’ve been talking with Autumn more than I have with anyone else since Callie died. I keep vomiting words and offering information I swore I’d take to my grave. Talking to her feels safe.
“So, you’re planning on moving back to Boston?”
“No.” The word comes out with such force that she frowns.
Okay, she mouths. “Then buying a house around here might be a good idea, but I wouldn’t get a dog just yet.”
“I’ll still travel to Boston. The original Café Fusion is there. I have three branches, so I’ll visit often. Plus, I need to check on the Eat Good restaurant too.”
“You own the Archer’s Eat Good restaurant?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
“I take it you’ve eaten there a few times?”
“Yeah, when I couldn’t afford groceries, and I didn’t want to tell my family that things were bad. They provided food for us. They even gave me lunches for Matilda.”
Knowing that I helped Autumn in some way makes me happy. It’s gratifying. I plan on sticking close by in case she needs someone to lean on when things get rough.
“So, if I ever get a dog, will you visit me?”
“You sound like a creepy guy in a white van offering candy.”
“Really?”
“No, but getting a dog so I’ll visit you is definitely weird.”
“That wouldn’t be the reason,” I say defensively because I don’t like that she’s calling me on my bullshit.
“Companionship then?” She’s so intuitive. Companionship is the right answer, but in my mind, it’ll be more about her company.
I’m glad we arrived at the toy store right then. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I wouldn’t tell her that maybe it was the best excuse to hang out with her.
Chapter Sixteen
Autumn
I don’t know how I went from trying to maim my family to inviting Zach to Matilda’s birthday party. Since I’m too busy with life, I don’t think much of it. The rest of the week, I avoid his calls and text him back only when it’s strictly necessary. I can’t justify my behavior, just as I can’t understand why I offered to help him design a clothing line for his coffee shop and asked him to come to Matilda’s birthday party at Aiden’s house.
“By the look of those bags, I’m guessing you didn’t buy her a dog,” Miranda says.
“Did you?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I can only keep up with one messy creature.”
We share a knowing look. Aiden is a slob. “Thank you again for letting me throw her party in your house.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you.” She turns to look at my brother.
Aiden sits by the kitchen table with Matilda and six of her best friends. “Look at him all happy that he can teach those kids how to do origami.”
“You should get one of those,” I suggest.
“Origami kits?”
I roll my eyes. “No. A baby who’ll be a rowdy boy like my brother or someone like you. If I have to choose, I’d rather have a niece.”
“We’re practicing. Maybe next year, we’ll give you the news.”
“Really?”
Before she answers, the doorbell rings. My stomach flutters. What if it’s Zach? I’m tempted to run to the door and open it, but I stay in place. I’m not a teenager anymore. When I was in high school, I rushed to the door when I knew he’d come to visit my brother.
Miranda arches an eyebrow. “I thought everyone was here. Did your mom decide to come?”
I shake my head. “She said, and I quote, ‘I’m too old to deal with a bunch of little children.’”
“She’s only sixty.”
“Yeah, but she wants to avoid cleaning the mess.”
“But that’s my favorite part of the party. I’m not letting you or anyone take that away from me.”
“Neat freak,” I mumble and laugh.
“I’m going to ignore your rudeness.” She lifts her chin and walks toward the door.
“Who ordered a hot guy?” she says, watching from the peephole. “Tell my husband that I left him for the delivery boy.”
“He can hear you,” I say, walking toward her so I can check out the delivery boy.
Miranda opens the door, and she is right. The man is hot. Zach wears a dark green sweater and a pair of jeans and has not one but three presents with him. I told him not to buy her presents, didn’t I?
“Hey,” he greets me.
I mutter a weak, “Hi.” He looks like he came from a photo shoot and not to a children’s party. I try not to stare at his lips, but I can’t help myself. Would it be tacky if I plant a kiss on them? I could fake dementia or claim that I was aiming for his cheek.
Miranda gives me a suspicious look. “You know the delivery guy?”
I clear my throat. “He’s not delivering anything. Miranda, meet Zachary St. James. Zach, this is Miranda, Aiden’s wife and the pain in my ass.”
“She meant her best friend,” Miranda clarifies, narrowing her gaze at the presents and then giving me a you-have-some-explaining-to-do-Autumn-Wickerton look.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “Where should I put the presents?”
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t buy anything?”
He shakes his head. “You agreed. I considered your request and realized that your daughter would argue with you and approve of my choice.”
“You can’t disagree with his logic,” Miranda says. “Matilda is going to like you. We’re setting the presents in the living room. Why don’t you follow me?”
A second later, Aiden stands next to me. “What is Zach doing in my house?”
“He’s your best friend.”
“I haven’t seen him in more than ten years. Try again.”
Since I’m out of comebacks and snarky remarks, I say, “Hey, nice origami class.”
“Autumn?”
I glance down at my hands, hoping the answer will appear like some witchcraft from one of the fantasy books I like to read. It doesn’t. I look up at him, and I see the scowl starting to form. I let out a breath. “I bumped into him the other day. We got to talking, and one thing led to another and…” I shrug as if saying it just happened. There’s no more to it.
“Hey, Aiden,” Zach says as he walks back with Miranda by his side. “How are you doing?”
He glares at him suspiciously. “Good?”
“I came the other day to visit you, but I heard you were preoccupied.”