12
Jamie backs away, dragging his wrist across his lips. He doesn’t turn around to face Aiden; my eyes flick down to his fly, and I see why.
I’m on fire.
Heart palpitating, head throbbing, lips tingling, core tight and hot, thighs shaking. My emotions are everywhere.
“Aiden, I…” I push away from the window and look over to see Aiden standing in his doorway, sagging against the doorframe, staring bleary-eyed at me and Jamie.
“Mom, my foot really hurts,” he says. “I can’t sleep.”
“The painkillers must have worn off,” I say as I rush over to him. “Let’s get you back in bed and you can take another one of the pills they gave us at the hospital.” My mind is a blur, but I try to sound normal.
I get Aiden settled back into bed, his nightlight glowing softly, and he cuddles his well-worn bunny. “I’ll be right back with a pill and some water.”
By the time I arrive back in his room, Aiden is almost asleep. I shake him gently, give him his pill, and tuck him in with a kiss.
But before I leave his room Aiden says, “Is Coach Trent still here?”
“He’s just leaving. Now close your eyes and have a good sleep. See you in the morning, honey.”
I’m a hot mess as I shuffle slowly back into the living room. I look sheepishly at Jamie who is standing near the front door.
“Elyse, I—I’m sorry that happened. Is Aiden okay?”
“Yeah, he is sleeping again. He just needs his rest.” Suddenly I feel awkward, and all the excitement and passion I was feeling ten minutes ago has been replaced with anxiety and guilt. “I think we should call it a night, Jamie. Thanks again for all your help…and for dinner.”
“I got carried away and I’m sorry things ended this way. I know this is not what you wanted.” And with that, he slips quietly out the front door.
I stand alone in the dimly lit living room, having gone from exhilaration to the depths of despair in the blink of an eye. I lock the front door, turn off the lights, check on Aiden one last time and get into bed myself.
It’s a long time before I fall asleep.
* * *
My alarm goesoff at six thirty the next morning and for a minute or two I don’t remember anything—the injury, the hospital, Jamie, the take-out dinner, the kiss. I’m blissfully happy for about two seconds. And then it all comes back to me in a hot, hammering rush. Suddenly, anxiety threatens to overwhelm me. I lay in bed for a few minutes, strategizing, and then I check on Aiden, who is still in a deep sleep. I decide to let him sleep in, and head to the shower and get ready for the day.
I whip up some pancakes, and at about eight Aiden limps into the kitchen. He looks at the time and says, “Wow, I never thought you would let me sleep this late.” After reporting that his ankle isn’t too bad, he heads back to his bedroom to get dressed. Clearly he is relishing the idea of going to school on crutches.
By the time Aiden sits down to breakfast, I’ve called his school to let them know he’ll be a bit late, and I’ve called my school secretary to tell her the same thing. My mom has called for an update and, satisfied that there is nothing she can do this minute, promises to make Aiden’s favorite dinner tonight—chicken fingers and cucumber and strawberry salad.
Things almost feel normal for a school day—almost, but not quite.
As Aiden tucks into a big stack of pancakes he says, rather nonchalantly, “What were you and Coach Trent doing last night, Mom?”
I turn to face him. “We—um…”
“Were you kissing?”
I stare into his eyes—I can’t fathom what he’s feeling in this moment, but I’ve never been the sort to lie to him. “Yes, Aiden, we were.”
“I thought so.”
I blink at the statement. “Um. We…it’s…” I shake my head. “It’s hard to explain, Aiden.”
He’s silent a moment. His brows furrow deeper. “Can I have some more pancakes?”
Oh, brother. What is he going to say next? I won’t varnish the truth for him but, at the same time, he’s a kid and I need to be careful about telling him too much…and not enough. I decide to let him lead this conversation.
