19. Nineteenth Lesson

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The dinner was uncomfortable. The moment before going to the guestroom was uncomfortable. Sleeping in a new bed—while thinking about all the things that was wrong with me—was uncomfortable. Waking up and realizing forgetting where I was could have been worse. Walking to the window and finding that it wasn’t snowing was the best news ever.

My shoulders went from tense to relaxed as I gazed out over the white world. The narrow gravel road leading up to the house was cleared from the thick snow cover, and as the sunlight filtered through the window I wondered if this was what freedom felt like.

I knew I wasn’t a captive, but I couldn’t wait to get out of here.

The hardwood floor was cold beneath my feet, so I returned to the bed and found my socks from yesterday. It wasn’t the first time I had used dirty socks; in fact, these were clean by my old standards.

A soft knock landed on the door. “Ethan, are you awake?” Matthews’ voice held that comforting tone again, and I almost replied that he could come in until I remembered that I was still in my underwear.

“Yes, I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Good, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

I heard him retreat from the door and started to retrieve the rest of my clothes from the floor. Yes, I was still a slob.

As I entered the kitchen, Tilia lit up in a smile, but it was wiped away in seconds as if she remembered what had happened yesterday. Her head fell, and she stared at the empty plate before her.

“Oh, I could have borrowed you some clothes,” Matthews said as he poured coffee into a black mug. That comment didn’t land the way I think he meant for it to land. It just made me feel self-conscious about wearing clothes that I would otherwise have deemed “clean”.

“It’s okay.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Matthews pointed toward a chair next to Tilia.

It felt like treason to sit down with her, but I knew it would be worse for her if I declined. Sitting down, I reached for the mug of coffee and brought it to my lips. At least I could hide behind the mug for a bit.

Matthews placed a waffle my plate. “Sorry, but it’s our traditional Sunday breakfast.”

I just nodded. I hadn’t had waffles in a long time, and never at home, but he didn’t need to know that. I was hit by that strange feeling of homeliness again, and it weighed on my chest. If I could wish for any sort of life, this would be it. Waking up to waffles and sharing the meal with nice people. Yes, Matthews seemed nice. Or perhaps he was just polite. I didn’t know if I could make the distinction with someone such as him. I had no reference to compare him with. It was impossible to know if this was his true face, or if he was someone else behind a façade.

“Tilia, Evelyn will arrive in a bit to take care of you while I will drive Ethan back to town.”

She didn’t reply.

“Tilia,” Matthews repeated. His voice wasn’t stern, but she looked up from her plate and seemed close to tears.

“Why can’t I come?” she asked.

“Because I need some time alone with Ethan.”

The blood drained from my face. I didn’t want to talk; I just wanted to be left alone so I could recuperate from this and forget that it ever happened. I wanted to forget that I was a tainted guy who didn’t deserve to be near their family.

Tilia pushed her plate away and left the table.

“Tilia!” Matthews rose from the table and went after her.

I wanted to tell him to give her a minute alone, but I knew it wasn’t my place. And, what did I know about child-care? I just had my own screwed up childhood to guide me, and I didn’t want that kind of childhood for anyone—least of all Tilia.

A pair of soft footsteps scurried up the stairs and a pair of heavier ones followed. I wasn’t involved, but I itched to go after them. Instead, I continued to sip on my coffee and pick at the waffle in front of me. It tasted much better than any other I’d had. Dropping the fork, I hid my face in my hands.  Get a grip, I told myself.

Focused on my shallow breaths, I missed the moment when Matthews walked back into the kitchen. I didn’t notice until his chair scraped across the floor.

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” I replied, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that I was behaving strangely. It was a weird notion, of course he would notice. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that I was a tad off kilter.

“She doesn’t want you to go.”

The words stung, hitting all the soft spots I had left in my fractured heart.

“Do you want this job, Ethan? I want to know, and I want you to be honest. Don’t think about what you think I want to hear, just say it.”

“Yes,” I whispered, so faint that I doubted he could hear it.

“You can’t fuck this up, Ethan.”

My eyes rose to his, perplexed by not only the words, but his tone. It sounded like he was giving me a chance, and that shouldn’t be possible.

“I know…” I replied, just as soft as before.

“Look, I know this is too sudden for you, and you need some time to adjust to not only the idea, but the pressure. I think you should think about it over the week, and if you feel confident that you won’t disappoint us, you can visit us next weekend as well, and then we’ll take it from there.”

I didn’t know what to reply. How could I tell him that I didn’t trust myself? And, if I didn’t trust myself to take care of me, how could I take care of a child?

“Don’t answer now. Talk to Lisa, see what she thinks.”

“Okay.”

“Now, finish that waffle before I steal it from you.”

I looked up, failing to repress a smile when I saw the grin spread across his face.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, which wiped the grin right off his face. The look replacing it was priceless, and it made me laugh out loud. 

A/N Sorry that this was short, I really need to get away from this scene that has kept me hostage for the last...how many chapters? ugh. Anyway, time to progress the story. Hopefully I'll be able to update one more time next week before I go abroad.  Don't forget to drop a comment if you have something on your mind, and a vote if you liked it :) 

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