To say this dinner is opposite from what I used to call family dinners is saying nothing. No evening wear or a million utensils around your plate. No sour faces that know every dirty detail about one another but smile and talk about the weather. And the food is meant for comfort, not show.
“Sorry, it’s nothing fancy here tonight,” she says as I sit down, biting her lower lip.
Aurora might think this is nothing, but it is the best dinner I’ve had in my thirty-one years of life.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her, our eyes linking as she tries to draw out more from them than I’m allowing.
I should’ve known my rules would never work on her.
Thankfully, Emett starts talking shop again and we all get lost in the conversation.
I’ve never had a better time talking about hockey as I do now. Even Seth adds a comment here and there, but it’s evident tonight was rough for him.
It’s rough on all of them.
Every time he coughs, or the spoon falls from his grip, both Aurora and Emett rush to help.
“You know, that last save was just luck!” Emett concludes, and then his eyes light up. “Speaking of luck!” he announces and immediately scrambles out of his seat, running.
A second later, he’s back, in his hand is a small teddy bear dressed as a hockey player he hands to me. The soft material of the toy well-loved and well cared for. Clearly, it’s one he loves and plays with a lot.
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“This is Lincoln. He’s my lucky teddy bear. Mommy got him for me.” I pass the toy back to him, and Emett gives him a squeeze.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool.”
“Mm-hmm. Now he’s all yours.” Emett thrusts it right back into my hands. “He’s going with you.”
“He is?” I look down at the bear and back at the little guy sitting next to me.
“Yep. Youclearlyneed some luck in your life right now, Mr. Brick, so you can have Lincoln, he’ll make sure you win your next game.” Emett leans in, whispering, “Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. He’s really good at keeping secrets.”
Emett smiles and goes back to eating, but I’m stuck.
I’m frozen in place, staring at the small, plush toy in my hands. My eyes lift to find Aurora’s already on mine, watching me carefully.
“Th-thank you,” I clear my throat. “I’ll take really good care of him.”
“I know you will.” Emett smiles and finishes his soup. “I’m all done, Mommy!”
“Good job, Superman.” She ruffles his hair affectionately. “Do you want to go play for a bit before we take a bath?”
“Yep.” He jumps off the chair, running back into the living room where a small toy box is tucked in the corner and takes out a few cars as I stare down at the teddy bear I’m still clutching.
No one’s ever given me anything like this. I mean, I had toys growing up. Actually, any and every toy imaginable but nothing like this.
Never anything that meant something. That was loved.
“I think I’m ready to go back to my room,” Seth croaks, and Aurora immediately gets up to take him. With a last parting look that holds that silent promise I made him, he disappears down the hallway.
By the time Aurora comes back, I finish the soup and take all the plates to the sink.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” She tries to take them out of my grasp, her dainty fingers grazing my arm in the process and we both freeze.
Does she feel that too? That shiver that ran down my spine at her mere touch. She must because she quickly retracts her hand and uses it to tuck in a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear.
Maybe she thought it was a distraction for herself, but not me because now the curve of her neck is borne to my eyes. Every inch of her porcelain skin and beauty mark that runs down the slope.
