Dear Aaron(116)

Frustrated, I unplugged my laptop from where I’d left it charging on the floor, opened it up, plugged in my headphones and began streaming a movie through Netflix. The sun filled the room with color, but I ignored it until the credits scrolled down the screen an hour and a half later. I wasn’t hesitant opening the door to go to the bathroom with my clothes rolled up under my arm. I couldn’t hear a sound in the house, but I didn’t put any thought into it. It didn’t take me long to shower and get dressed, and I took my time putting aloe vera on my neck in my room, noticing that it was already feeling a lot better than when the hot water had initially touched it.

Feeling brave, I finally left my room with the intent of going to the living area, wanting to just get this awkwardness over with. But I hadn’t even taken a step when I heard the familiar voice talking in almost a hiss upstairs.

“I don’t understand what you’re expecting from me,” Aaron said in an angry whisper.

When there wasn’t a response, it confirmed that whoever he was talking to wasn’t someone in the house. I should have gone back into my room instead of eavesdropping, but instead, I just stood there as he kept speaking, his voice a steady, angry thrum throughout the house.

“Do you need more money, is that it?… Not more money, you just want me to let him know you’re running low, right?… Again? Running low again… How many times is this now? Five? You’ve asked five, maybe six times, to put in a good word for you and I haven’t. I don’t understand why you’d think this time I’d change my mind… I’ve told you, if you want something, call Colin. He might have some sympathy, but Paige and I won’t… What?”

There went the mention of Colin and Paige again. Was it his mom? I couldn’t think of who else it would be, especially not when there was a mention of a “him” and “more money” like there could be someone else other than his dad this could be about.

“That’s not my problem. I told you already I didn’t want to talk to you, but every single time you think I’m joking, you think I’ve changed my mind…” Aaron practically growled. “That’s never going to happen. You think I’ve forgotten how you used to cry on demand around Dad? It stopped meaning anything a long time ago. You’ve overused that card, don’t blame me.”

I didn’t need him to use the “M” word to know it was definitely his mom—his birth mom—he was speaking to. Jesus. Was she asking him for money? Who did that? And what the heck had happened to make him so mad at her?

Suddenly feeling like a little bit of a jerk for listening in on something I knew down to my bones was extremely personal for Aaron, I turned around and headed back to my room, trying to be as quiet as possible as I closed the door and leaned against it.

What was I supposed to do now?

I must have stood there for at least half an hour, playing a game on my phone before I straightened and decided to try this again. Based on the tone of voice Aaron had been using, there was no way that that conversation had lasted too much longer. I was only slightly worried as I headed up the stairs, keeping my ears peeled for any noise, but there was none. I made it halfway into the living room when I found it empty, and looking out onto the deck, I found it was empty too.

It was the bowl sitting randomly on the kitchen island that had my eyes zooming in on it. There was something that looked like a piece of paper sitting beside it. As I approached it, I could see scrambled eggs, a biscuit, and a tablespoon of jelly inside of it and everything in me stopped. My heart gave a squeeze.

And the only thing I could think of was that as pissed as he’d been, he’d still made me breakfast.

Picking up the note, I read the words scribbled on it quickly and sighed.

Have a headache. Going to take a nap. Stay out of the sun.

Aaron





At some point, Aaron must have decided he was going to start staring at me again.

Because that was exactly what he was doing.

He’d been boring a hole in my direction from the moment he’d climbed up the stairs late that afternoon, looking beyond exhausted in a way I could tell wasn’t just physical. Max had braved the trip to wake him up after we’d all agreed to go out to dinner that night instead of having anyone cook. I hadn’t been sure what exactly Aaron planned on doing with the scallops, so I hadn’t signed up to make something out of them when I’d never messed with them before.

When he hadn’t come up at noon for lunch, when we usually ate, I made him a sandwich with a side of those gross salt and vinegar chips he liked and a pickle, and went downstairs to offer it up to him. He hadn’t answered when I knocked on his door lightly, and in a move there was no way I would have made months ago, I’d opened his door and peeked inside.

Sure enough, he’d been curled up on his side, facing away, sleeping soundly, not a snore, not a whistle, nothing coming out of him except the soft inhale and exhale of his breathing. So I’d left the plate of food on the dresser in front of his bed and tiptoed out, closing the door as quietly as possible. I’d spent the day watching TV, with only a thirty-minute break to walk the beach with Mindy, wearing the giant, ridiculous hat that Aaron had given me to wear the day before.

So when he’d finally come up the stairs in his slightly rumpled clothing and gone straight for the newest package of bottled water, I’d kept my eyes on him. He’d barely finished guzzling an entire bottle when those deep brown eyes moved around the room and landed on me.