Page 31 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

H enry

It’s Christmas Eve, and it’s been almost a week since I began having the most mind-blowing sex of my life.

Definitely not what I expected from a woman who was worried she wouldn’t be a good lover because of her lack of experience.

I guess there’s something to be said about sex when it’s someone you care about. As a friend, I mean.

Matilda and I started out rough, but once we each settled down a bit, we realized we get along well—like each other, even.

Over the last week, we’ve managed to find time to rendezvous three additional times.

Once more at her place when I went over to verify measurements for her bathroom remodel.

A second time at mine when she came over to approve the initial drawings, and the last time, yesterday, is seared into my brain forever.

It’s safe to say I’ll never look at my office desk the same.

I’m disappointed that Matilda refuses to see each other today, or on Christmas.

I pushed back, but she’s adamant it’s time for family.

She doesn’t want to confuse my girls and cause them to wonder why she’s the only friend her father has over for the holidays.

I want to respect her boundaries, but hey, if we happen to go to Aron Falls’ Christmas Eve festivities at the town square for the first time, and I happen to run into her, then that’s not my fault.

The adorable off-tune rendition of the Christmas carol that Layla is singing pulls me from my thoughts. Lena claps her hands in front of her repeatedly as she howls what I assume she thinks are words.

I watch them in the rearview mirror, and my pride swells. I make a lot of mistakes as a single dad, I’m sure, but my girls are happy and healthy. That’s a miracle after what they’ve been through with losing their mom.

“Daddy, sing with us!”

How can I say no to this sweet little girl? I can’t. Thus, I add my voice to the cacophony of sounds filling my truck as we approach my mom’s house. It’s the best damn sound I’ve ever heard.

When we arrive at Mom’s for brunch, and I get the kids out of the car and into the house, the snow boots and winter outdoor gear all removed, they take off looking for my cousin’s kids.

Christmas Eve brunch is one of the few times each year that I get to see my cousins.

Mom invites her sister, as well as Dad’s sister and their families, every year.

This year is different. Mom has made it clear that this year, she’s inviting the man she’s seeing. I feel a number of things about it, most of which I’m not able to give a name to. I want my mom to be happy. I do. But I also never want to see her hurt and in pain like she was when she lost my dad.

I kick off my shoes, hang my coat, and head into the kitchen in search of my mom.

The comforting smell of cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven, washes over me. We always have them, homemade by Mom, on this Christmas Eve celebration. It goes back as far as I can remember. Mom says it was something she did with her parents as well.

I walk over to the stove and breathe in deeply through my nose.

The cream cheese frosting on top is calling to me.

I peek over my shoulder, and I’m alone. Surely, Mom won’t notice if I swipe a tiny bit off the edge of one and pre-taste.

Right as my index finger is about an inch from the frosting, I sense her.

“Henry Aron, don’t you dare. Back away from those cinnamon rolls, or so help me, you will not get one today.”

I grin before I even turn around. But when I do, something strikes me.

My mom looks happy. She’s not been unhappy for a long time now, but seeing her today, I see a difference.

It becomes clear that, while she’s had some joy in life, she hasn’t had the level of happiness that’s radiating from her now.

It reminds me of how she used to look when my dad was alive.

Before I get choked up, I pull her into a bear hug and stand there with her longer than usual.

When we pull apart, I kiss her on her cheek and can’t help but smile.

How this five-foot-four-inch-tall woman birthed five sons all well over six feet tall, I’ll never know.

Dad was five feet eleven inches. Not short, but certainly not the height that his sons have.

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.”

I take a deep breath and decide to throw her a line.

“The girls went in search of Keith’s kids, meaning the family will keep them entertained for a while. Do you want to talk now?”

She looks at me closely for a few seconds. Her eyes search my face. To be fair, I haven’t been overly supportive of Mom dating, so I’m not surprised that she’s looking for some indication of my emotional state before she commits.

“Sure, he’s waiting in the office.”

“Why only me today? We’ll all be here, why didn’t you wanna tell us all at once?”

My mom’s cheeks turn pink, and she tugs at her ear. She does that when she’s nervous or stressed.

“The twins and Heath met him last night. They came over for dinner. Harrison got here an hour ago and met him. You’re the last one.”

A part of me is irritated that I’m the last to find out who he is, not the first. But then I imagine Mom probably went in order of who she thought it might go smoothest with. I have to acknowledge that she’s not wrong. I’ve made my concerns clear to her.

Still, she’s beaming, and I don’t want to hurt her, so I’ll make an effort.

When we get to the door of the office, it’s closed. My mother turns to me with pleading in her eyes. “Please try, Henry. I’m aware this is hard for you, that you were really close to your dad. But I’m happy with a man that I trust and care about.”

“I’ll try.” I’m determined to give this person a chance. Because whether I like to admit it or not, he’s probably the reason she looks more joyful than she has in a long time.

But when she opens the door and we step into the room, I’m confused.

“I don’t understand.”

I looked back and forth between my mother and Leo. Leo, the man with whom my father worked his entire adult life. My dad’s single friend, who used to take us boys fishing.

“What’s going on here?”

Leo stands and steps forward. “Henry, your mom and I ran into each other again a few months ago. Then we started having coffee. Things just kinda happened.”

I glance at Mom. “Leo is who you’re dating?” She nods, clearly anxious, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse and tugging at her ear repeatedly.

“Yes. I hope you give him a chance.”

I turn my attention back to Leo, and we stand there, staring at each other for a long time. He finally breaks the silence.

“Can we talk for a couple of minutes, Henry? Without your mom?”

“Hey, why do I have to leave?” she complains.

“Lydia, I need to talk to Henry alone, please. Just for a few minutes.”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

When she exits, Leo takes a seat, and I sit across from him. Feelings of relief, anger, and grief wash over me.

Leo stares at me for an uncomfortably long amount of time. “Do you want to ask any questions?”

“Did you always have a thing for his wife? Were you my dad’s best friend and longing for my mom the whole time?” Christ, I’m almost thirty-five, and I hear the anger and bitterness in my voice.

“No! It’s not like that at all. In truth, I was a lot like you when I was a younger man. I wasn’t interested in a relationship. Definitely not in love. I had a string of understandings over the years. Friends with benefits, I think you guys call it these days.”

I don’t like how I feel when he describes how he used to be, and that he perceives me as being the same.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man. But something about being like him when it relates to women in the past bothers me.

It’s not only that Mom obviously has talked to him about my relationship status.

Otherwise, how would he know where I stand?

“What are your intentions with her?”

“When your mom and I caught back up, I honestly was only looking for friendship. She was as well. We’d meet for coffee, talk about fond memories of your dad, and catch up on how all you boys were doing.

Eventually, it turned into meeting for lunches and later, into dinners.

I knew when I fell that it was going to be hard.

Like slamming into the ground from fifty feet above, hard.

Because there’s something about your mother at this point in her life that speaks to my soul.

We’re basically best friends. But I do care about her, very much romantically, and I’m interested in seeing where this goes.

I don’t see it ending. I’m not the same as when I was younger, and I’m not looking for the same things. ”

I stare at him, wanting to be mad, but understanding. I believe that he cares about my mother.

Leo is the man who helped hold me together when our dad died.

I’ve known him for as long as I can remember.

When Dad died, I had just finished my general carpentry apprenticeship with him and Leo, and I was heading into an advanced framing apprenticeship.

When I thought I’d have to withdraw from the program, I was offered an option—because of the extenuating circumstances—where I could do my training three days one week and two days the next.

That way, I had my time split between the business and the apprenticeship.

It took me longer than it would if I had done five days a week, but our situation—a family business to run—kept me from doing that.

Leo staying on was the thing that kept the business up and running while I trained.

He worked extra to ensure that we were meeting the demands of our customers.

In reality, it was Leo working extra—sacrificing his time—that afforded me the opportunity to pursue the apprenticeship and keep the business going strong.

It was his way of honoring his friendship with my dad, I guess.

I run my hand through my hair and stare at the floor for a few seconds, then suck in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. My gaze meets his.

“It’s going to be weird for a while.” He nods at me in understanding. “Don’t hurt her, Leo. You don’t know how broken she was after losing my dad. I don’t ever want her to go through that kind of hurt again.”

“I care a lot about her, Henry. As long as I’m around, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing ever hurts her again.”

I stare at the man and see nothing but sincerity in his eyes. I guess this is the best-case scenario if my mom is going to date. Right?

She’s dating a man my brothers and I know and trust. A man who retired from my own business only about five years ago.

A man who centered me and kept me looking straight ahead when I was a damn mess after losing Dad.

I lean across the table separating us and stretch my hand across to him.

When he takes it, I tell him, “Welcome to the chaos of Christmas at the Aron house.”

He chuckles. “I’ve been here for Christmas before, Henry, when you were younger. Much younger.” He grins.

“I don’t think you’ve been here since all these kids have been running around. Trust me, Leo, it’s a different experience.”

He nods and asks if I’m ready to head out to spend time with the rest of my family.

I smile at him. “You go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You sure, Henry? You’re okay?”

I nod. “I’m okay, Leo. I just need a minute to gather myself before I go out with my girls.”

Now it’s Leo who’s smiling. “Your mom says you’re a sensational father.

A lot like your dad was, from how she describes it.

I imagine your dad would be proud of not just the man and business owner you’ve become, but of the father you’ve turned out to be.

He loved you boys and your mom more than anything. ”

I swallow past the lump in my throat but can’t respond. Leo stands, pats my shoulder, and leaves.

It’s only when I’m completely alone that I let the wave of emotions wash over me. God, I hope he’s right.