Amelia Unleashed

Chapter Five

“Hey, don’t even worry about it.” Liam nudges me with his elbow. “There will still be Sundays when you get back.”

“True…”

“And,” my mom adds, “just think about how happy you’re going to make your Aunt Urma.”

“Yeah, seriously, I don’t know if I could give up a chunk of my summer as easily as you.” Liam says, without knowing that the only reason I offered to spend time with her was out of guilt. He looks over at my parents and tells them, “You two have the nicest daughter, ever.”

My dad reaches over and gives my shoulder a light rub. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“She sure is.” Liam agrees, beaming, and I practically feel my entire face turn red.

The rest of the conversation over dinner goes surprisingly well. Him eating dinner with us was last minute, actually. I was upstairs packing while my mom was preparing dinner when the doorbell rang. My mom yelled up the stairs, telling me I had a visitor. I wasn’t quite sure who it could be, considering Laurel doesn’t ring the doorbell when she comes over, let alone has my mom call for me. I quickly made my way down. To my surprise, Liam was there. We had a quick awkward – well, awkward for me – exchange of hellos. He said he wanted to say good-bye before I left on my mini-sort-of-vacation. My mom, being my mom, invited Liam to stay for dinner. When I began to object, insisting Liam probably had better places to be, he accepted the invitation.

“Thanks again for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson.” He politely says and nods to my mom. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a great meal, ma’am.”

My mom lets off a flattered giggle and waves her hand as if it was nothing. “Oh, please, sweetie. Just call me Darla.”

“Alright,” Liam smiles again, “it was delicious, Darla, did you need any help cleaning up?”

“Don’t be silly!” She proclaims, almost as if she’s on the verge of being offended. “Dad and I have it all under control. Don’t we, Frank?” My dad, who has been oddly enough quiet throughout dinner, nods his head in agreement. “I made angel food cake for tonight, if you want to stay for that also.” Liam quickly accepts the offer. “Why don’t you two go sit on the porch and I’ll bring out a couple mugs of hot cocoa? We’ll clean up then have ourselves some dessert after. How does that sound?”

True to her word, my mom brings out the cocoa in a few minutes. “You’re lucky, you know that?” Liam says, more of a statement than a question.

“What?” I ask. “Why do you say that?”

“Your family, they’re great.”

“Yeah, they’re not too shabby.” I joke.

“Seriously, Mia, you have no idea what I’d give to be able to sit down and have family dinners like that.”

Looking down at the mug in my hand, trying to avoid eye contact, I tell him, “What happened with your mom, Liam?”

He takes a deep breath in. “Like I said, she got sick.” Minutes seem like hours as we sit on the porch swing listening to the crickets chirp and the toads croak. “It’s always cancer, isn’t it?”

“Did she suffer? I mean… how long after she got diagnosed did she… you know…”

“You can say the word. You can say died.” He taps his finger tips on the side of the mug in his hands. “It was quick, if that’s what you’re asking. By cancer standards, anyways…” Once again I find myself wanting to put my hand on his, but this time I decide to resist the urge. “She first got sick when I was eight. Back then, I didn’t really get what was going on. I just thought it was a really bad cold or something. What eight year old thinks about their mom not always being there? Well, they said the cancer was gone when right after I turned nine. Everything went back to normal. At least that’s what I thought at the time. Looking back now, though, I know things weren’t really all that normal. She was still tired all the time, sleeping a lot. She never really got her smile back.” As Liam tells me this story – his story – I can’t help but feel my eyes well with tears. “Then, when I was twelve, she went to get her sixth month appointment. And two months later, well, I think you know how that ended.”

“Yeah,” I softly respond, letting out a soft breath of air. “Liam. I don’t know what to say.”

“No one ever does.”

“I wish there was something I could say. Something I could do.”

“Listen,” he tells me, with an intense voice. He turns to me, his face so close that the tip of his nose is just a few inches from mine. This time, instead of letting out a soft breath of air, I take a sharp breath and hold it. “I know you’re trying to help and I appreciate it. But there’s really nothing you can do. It happened a long time ago, Mia. So can we just drop it?”

“Alright,” I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Sorry, yeah, we can drop it.”

“Thanks.”

Just on cue, my mom swings open the front door and peeks out, smiling brightly. “Who’s ready for some dessert?” I look at Liam as if I’m waiting to hear response also.

Almost as if we weren’t in the middle of a deep conversation he surprises by saying, “Oh man, you read my mind, Darla.” My mom lets out a laugh (something she’s been doing a lot of tonight) and shuts the door behind her, telling us to take our time.

And with that, the moment with Liam is lost. I sit there almost paralyzed, rewinding and replaying our previous conversation in my mind.