14. Aubrey

14

Aubrey

The drive back to the ranch was filled with a swirling mix of emotions that I can't quite pin down. There's an obvious pull towards Sean, a magnetic force that's hard to resist.

The evening we shared, from the laughter over dinner to the amazing connection in that hotel room, it's all reminiscent of the intensity we stumbled into years back. Yet, in the middle of the whirlwind of feelings, there's a voice of caution, whispering reminders of reality in my ear.

As Sean's car sits in front of the Airbnb, the warmth of the night does little to ease the chill of my conflicting thoughts. He turns to me, a question in his eyes, and leans in for a kiss. Despite my turmoil, I let him, drawn to the comfort and familiarity of his touch.

"Hey, Aubrey," he starts, his voice a gentle echo in the quiet of the car. "How about we do something tomorrow night? Just something low-key, maybe a movie?"

The question hangs in the air, a tempting offer that part of me aches to accept. But then, the reality of my situation, of being a mom with a world of responsibilities, crashes down.

"Sean," I sigh, my heart heavy with words I'm reluctant to speak, "I... I think I need some time to process everything. This... us, it's a lot to take in, especially so fast."

I can see the understanding in his eyes, even as disappointment flickers beneath the surface. He nods, the gesture speaking volumes of the maturity I've only just begun to uncover in him.

"Yeah, I get it," he says, his smile tinged with a sadness that tugs at my heartstrings. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, whenever you're ready."

As I get out of the car, the cool night air envelops me, a temporary reprieve from the warmth of Sean's presence. Turning back, I offer him a smile—a promise of sorts, though I'm not quite sure of what.

He gives me a final nod, a silent vow of patience, before driving off into the night. Watching the taillights fade into the distance, I'm left standing in the quiet, a solitary figure grappling with the possibilities of what might be.

The walk back to the Airbnb is a short one, but with each step, the weight of my decision, of the space I've placed between us, feels heavier.

Stepping into the house, the warmth from the fireplace battles the coolness outside, creating a cozy welcome that wraps around me like a well-loved blanket. Emma's there, the embodiment of tranquility with a book in her lap, looking every bit the guardian angel of late-night reads and peaceful firesides.

"Emma, seriously, I can't thank you enough," I start, my gratitude spilling over. "Luke can be a handful, even if he's more cherub than gremlin most days."

Emma looks up, her smile as warm as the fire crackling in the hearth. "Oh, please, Aubrey, Luke's an absolute dream. He went down without a fuss. Really, anytime you need a break or... have plans," she adds, with a not-so-subtle nudge towards my recent evening out, "I'm more than happy to help."

I can't help but laugh, a mix of appreciation and slight embarrassment coloring my cheeks. "Plans, huh? I'll have to remember that. But really, seriously, you're a lifesaver."

As I make my way to my room, the gentle snores of a certain little man guide me like a lighthouse. There's Luke, curled up in his pack-and-play, looking every inch the angelic being Emma described. Seeing him so peaceful, so utterly content, a wave of love washes over me, grounding me.

Collapsing onto my bed, the events of the evening replay in my mind like a movie on loop. Sean, with his charming grin and earnest eyes, offering everything from heart-pounding moments of passion to heartfelt declarations that leave me dizzy with possibility.

And yet, here I am, drifting into sleep with more questions than answers, the uncertainty of what lies ahead a shadowy figure at the edge of my dreams.

***

The next morning, I'm abruptly woken by a small, incredibly enthusiastic pancake lobbyist nudging me awake. Luke's big eyes are full of a very serious breakfast mission. "Pancakes, Mommy, pancakes!"

Laughing, I scoop him up, his giggle filling the room as I tousle his hair. "Alright, Commander Pancake, let's see what we can whip up for you."

Dressed and ready for our culinary adventure, Luke, with the determined focus only a toddler can muster for pancakes, practically sprints towards the main house the moment the door is open. I'm hot on his heels, trying to keep up and reminding him, "Slow down, buddy! Remember, we don't live here, we're just visiting."

But Luke's on a mission, and there's no slowing him down. Bursting into the kitchen, we're greeted by the sight of the Ice family, a morning scene so warm and inviting it feels like something out of a feel-good family sitcom.

"Good morning, Aubrey, Luke!" Emma greets us with her signature warmth, the rest of the family chiming in with their welcomes.

I'm struck by how at home I feel among them, an unexpected sense of belonging washing over me. It's a far cry from my usual 'me against the world' stance, but I've got to admit, it's nice. "Good morning, everyone. Looks like we've got a pancake emergency on our hands," I announce, earning a chorus of amused responses.

However, scanning the room, I realize one person's missing. Sean. A knot forms in my stomach at the thought. Did my hesitation last night send the wrong message?

"Hey, where's Sean?" I venture, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but.

Jack looks up from his coffee. "Oh, Sean had an early start today. Said something about needing to clear his head."

The words hang in the air, and I can't help but feel a twinge of regret. Did I push him away too hard? My mind races with thoughts of last night, our conversation, and the chemistry we shared.

I shake off the worry, focusing on the task at hand—pancakes for a very patient little boy who’s somehow managed to charm the socks off everyone in the room. “Well, a pancake mission waits for no man, right, Luke?”

Luke’s enthusiastic nod and the laughter that follows lighten the mood, and as we settle into the rhythm of the morning, the Ice family kitchen feels more like a home than anywhere else has in a long time.

Breakfast at the Ice Ranch turns into a mini festival of cuteness, with Luke and Violet starring in the main event. Luke, with the enthusiasm of a pint-sized comedian, has Violet chuckling in that adorable, gummy way that could seriously give those viral baby videos a run for their money.

It's the kind of scene that makes you think, "Yep, this is going straight to the 'remember when' part of the family album."

Catching the contagious joy of the kiddo duo, Jake throws a fun idea into the mix. "How about we let these munchkins loose in the backyard? The garden's practically begging for some pint-sized explorers."

I'm all in before he even finishes. "Sounds like a plan! Let's give these dishes a quick superhero cleanup, and we're off to adventure land." The cleanup is a whirlwind of efficiency, the Ice family kitchen squad in full swing, proving that many hands make light work—and possibly more mess, but who's counting?

Soon, Jake, Violet, Luke, and I find ourselves in the backyard's charming embrace, a perfectly quaint fenced-in slice of paradise. Luke takes off like he's got rockets on his feet, with Violet, the determined little crawler, on his tail. Their laughter is the day's soundtrack, a melody of pure happiness.

Jake and I settle into a chat that feels like a coffee catch-up between old friends. "It's a rare treat, meeting another solo superhero in the parenting gig," I tell him, a smile spreading as I watch our kids play. "It's like walking a tightrope sometimes, isn't it?"

He nods, eyes on Violet with a mix of pride and love. "Yeah, it's us against the chaos. Violet's been my sidekick since day one. And you?"

I sigh, a mix of nostalgia and pride. "It's been the Aubrey & Luke show for a while now. And honestly? We're nailing it."

We dive into tales of sleepless nights turned impromptu dance parties and solo parent life hacks, finding common ground in the shared experience of raising our little ones against the odds.

"Having someone who gets it, it's like finding an ally in the wild," I chuckle, grateful for this surprising bond. "And here, with the Ices, it's like we've stumbled into the most welcoming tribe."

Jake's laughter joins mine, easy and genuine. "The fam does have a knack for making everyone feel part of the gang. And hey, if you ever need backup or just wanna vent, I'm here. Solo parent solidarity and all that."

"Deal," I agree, feeling a sense of camaraderie that goes beyond just shared circumstances.

As Luke and Violet commandeer the backyard with the kind of gusto only little kids possess, a new player enters our serene slice of backyard bliss—Sean, arms laden with what looks like enough groceries to survive a mild apocalypse. His arrival stirs a whirlwind of butterflies in my stomach, a mix of anticipation and that nagging awkwardness lingering from last night's heart-to-heart.

"Hey, everyone," Sean announces, a cautious optimism in his voice. "Just got back from conquering the wilds of the Cedar Creek Supermart."

The moment is teetering on the edge of awkward silence when Jake, ever the gracious wingman, jumps in with a lifeline. "Well, look who decided to join us! You know, Aubrey, if you and Sean want some grown-up time, I've got the kiddo watch covered."

I hesitate, a part of me itching to decline and prolong my time in decision purgatory. But there's that other part, the one that knows deep down that Sean and I need this—need to talk, to figure out where we go from here, for Luke's sake, if nothing else.

"Sure, Jake, that sounds... nice. Thanks," I reply, the words feeling like a leap of faith as I glance at Sean, his expression a blend of relief and something tenderly hopeful.

As we set off on our walk, the initial stiffness between us feels like walking in shoes that haven't quite been broken in yet. But as the path unwinds before us, so does our conversation, moving from tentative to comfortably familiar.

"So, the Cedar Creek Supermart, huh? Brave the local wildlife for some essentials?" I tease, breaking the ice as we meander down the path lined with the vibrant hues of Cedar Creek's flora.

Sean chuckles, the sound breaking through the last of the awkwardness. "Oh, you know, just the usual—avoiding eye contact in the cereal aisle, dodging shopping carts in produce. A typical Saturday."

Our laughter mingles, easing the tension further, and before long, we're slipping into the easy banter that marked our earliest interactions. "I missed this," I find myself admitting, the truth of it surprising even me.

"Me too, Aubrey. More than I realized," Sean confesses, a sincerity in his gaze that knocks the wind out of me, in the best way. "Look, about last night—"

"I know," I cut in, not ready to dive back into those turbulent waters just yet. "Let's just... enjoy today, okay? We can figure out the rest as we go."

As we zigzag our way back, Sean shifts gears on our chat roadmap, steering us away from the heavy traffic of 'relationship talks' to the scenic route of everyday life. "So, I've got a bit of a scoop for you," he starts, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and a dash of hope. "I'm hitting the ice with the Milwaukee Mavericks. Not the show but it's something. How would you and the pancake king feel about catching me in action? Even just a practice session?"

The idea floats between us, light and intriguing, like a bubble waiting to be popped with excitement. "Watching Uncle Sean do his hockey thing? Luke would eat that up. And, not gonna lie, I'm kinda curious myself," I concede, letting the smile in my voice show. "We're in. Just promise me there'll be popcorn."

His reaction is all the confirmation I need that this was the right call. "Awesome! That means the world to me, really."

The rest of our walk is like a bonus round in a video game where everything's just...nice. We talk about all the non-complicated stuff that makes you forget, even just for a little while, about the complicated stuff waiting back at level one.

But even as we joke and share stories, part of me is doing that thing where it reminds the rest of me to play it cool, to remember the whole 'guarded heart' strategy. It's like trying to keep a balloon under water—doable, but man, does it want to pop back up.

By the time we circle back to the ranch, I'm all tangled up in feelings and possibilities. Sean's invitation to watch him play feels like a tiny bridge to something normal, something fun. And I'm all for fun, especially if it comes with a side of popcorn and a dash of handsome hockey player.