Kristan Higgins - Fools Rush In

I continued to run, and after a few weeks, my little jog didn’t cause quite so much pain, though I still gasped like the largemouth bass my dad regularly pulled from Higgins Pond. I lost a few more pounds and tried to cook at least one decent meal a week, learning the hard way that most recipes call for the meat to be thawed before cooking.

On another front, the house was becoming more and more mine. I painted the cellar floor and cleaned energetically. Occasionally I would pick up a picture frame or vase or some other little object and happily agonize over where to put it. Digger and I were quite content.

ONE SATURDAY AFTERNOON in late April, as my dog and I huffed toward the house, I saw Sam’s truck in my driveway. He and Danny were getting something out of the back of the pickup.

“Hi, Mil!” Sam called.

“Hi, Aunt Mil!” Danny echoed.

“Hello, boys,” I gasped, letting Digger off the leash. The silly dog forgot he was supposed to protect me from strange men and instead leaped over to Sam and Danny, collapsing with joy as they reached down to pet him. I took advantage of this moment to regain my breath and steady my trembling knees.

“How’s the running going?” Sam asked with the annoying smirk of a natural athlete.

Ass, I thought. “Great!” I answered with feigned enthusiasm.

“You up to two miles yet?”

“Bite me,” I whispered cheerfully so my nephew wouldn’t hear. Sam laughed.

“You’re looking good, Aunt Mil,” Danny said, extricating himself from Digger’s maniacal licking. He glanced at my T-shirt. “‘Mean people suck.’ So true.”

I grinned up at my tall nephew. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Thought you could use a few plants,” Sam said. “I’ve got some lilacs and hydrangeas for you.” As a part-time employee of Seascapes Landscaping, Sam got stuff at a great discount.

“Oh, thanks, Sam!” I exclaimed. How touching, that he would think of me and my bare little yard. He was the sweetest guy. Digger seemed to share my esteem and attached himself vigorously to Sam’s leg.

“Off. Off, boy,” Sam said, prying the dog’s front legs from his knee.

“The same thing happened to me at the nursing home,” I laughed. “Except it wasn’t a dog.” Sam grinned and threw a stick for Digger, effectively ending their romance. I’d have to try that with Mr. Glover.

“Can we see the house?” Danny asked.

“Of course, of course!” I answered. I had forgotten that these guys hadn’t been over since my renovations and immediately felt remiss. After all, it had been Danny’s Great Gran’s house.

“Why don’t we just get these plants in the ground first, Dan, and give Millie a chance to, uh, shower,” Sam suggested.

“Great,” I said, grabbing Digger. “You want to stay for lunch?”

“Sure!” Danny replied, ever hungry.

Happily warmed by their presence, I went inside, wondering what, if any, food I had to offer them.

I showered quickly, throwing a hair band in my wet hair and pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt. In the kitchen, I watched out the kitchen window as they hauled the lilac trees and hydrangea bushes around my small yard, their voices muffled as they talked and laughed. Sam let Danny do the digging, leaning on his own shovel while his energetic son did the hard part. They looked so much alike—same hair color (aside from Sam’s gray), same rangy build, same smile, same down-turning eyes, though my nephew’s were Trish’s chocolaty-brown. Danny was nearly as tall as Sam now, and the realization brought tears to my eyes. Danny was growing up. In just a few short months, he’d be a senior, and then go off to college somewhere. I wondered what Sam would do without him.

I snapped myself out of my musings and rummaged in the cupboards. A can of tuna, age indeterminate, was the best I could come up with. I had a tiny loaf of low-carb bread and set about making sandwiches. Mayonnaise? Not in my house! I put a little oil and vinegar onto the small slices for flavor and set the table with Gran’s chicken plates and the glasses with the etched gold leaves. All I had to drink was water, so I filled a pitcher and called the boys in. They thoughtfully took off their boots before entering.

“Wow, Aunt Mil!” Danny exclaimed, turning in a slow circle in my living room. “This is great!”

“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” Sam said.

I beamed. “Well, thanks, guys. I’m glad you like it. Katie helped a lot, too. She’s really good with decorating.” It was time to insert my friend into Sam’s subconscious.

“It’s really great, Mil,” Danny said, going down the hall into the bathroom to wash up. “Cool!” I could tell he’d seen the flamingos.

“How do you like living here?” Sam asked, washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

“Oh, it’s so much fun, Sam,” I answered. “You know I’ve never really had a place of my own. It’s a blast.” I smiled at him fondly.

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said, putting an arm around me in brotherly fashion.

We sat down at the kitchen table, where Danny picked up a sandwich and inhaled approximately three quarters of it in one bite. “I like those little knobs,” he said thickly, nodding at my cupboards.

“Oh, Katie suggested those,” I said, nodding and looking at Sam. “She’s great with decorating.”

“So you said,” Sam answered.

Danny was finished. Finished! I had yet to take one bite. “Got anything else?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

“Danny,” chided his father. “Don’t be a savage.”

“It’s just Aunt Millie,” was Danny’s excuse.

True, true, just Aunt Millie, selfless Aunt Millie, who pushed her sandwich over to her beloved nephew.

“It’s okay, Sam,” I said, watching Danny devour my lunch. “I’m not really hungry. You know how it is, after a run.”

Sam’s mouth twitched. I gritted my teeth and decided to talk directly about Katie. It was time for Sam to move on, and time for Katie to get a decent man. “You want to go out with Katie and me sometime?” I asked, ever subtle.

“Sure! She’s hot!” Danny replied, naughty boy.

“Not you, junior,” I said, pinching his cheek in my auntie way. “Your aging father.”

“Sure,” Sam answered easily, finishing his own sandwich.

Mission accomplished! “Great. I’ll call you and let you know when.”

They left a little while later, laden with my profuse thanks and affection, but apparently still hungry.

“Don’t worry,” I heard Sam say as they got into the truck. “We’ll stop at the Box Lunch for a real sandwich.” I scratched my nose with my middle finger at this, and Sam grinned as he backed down my driveway. His smile made my heart swell. It had been a long time since I’d seen Sam happy, I realized, and God knew he deserved it after the pummeling Trish had given his heart.

Hanging out with Sam and Danny was so different without my sister. Though I had known Sam most of my life, he’d always been Trish’s property, and she’d never been one to share. I remembered one occasion when I’d been back from college at Thanksgiving and we’d all been at my parents’ house, waiting for the big meal, football on in the living room, the classic American scene. Danny was playing checkers with my dad as they watched TV, Mom and Trish were busy in the kitchen, chatting and laughing. Everyone was happy. Sam struck up a conversation with me about school, and we were talking about classes and college life when I looked up and saw Trish glaring at me from the kitchen doorway.

“Sam,” she cooed, changing faces as only my sister could, “can I see you upstairs?”

About twenty minutes later, they came down, and from the happy, dopey expression on Sam’s face, it was obvious my sister had just shagged him. Just to reinforce the fact that she was the important, interesting, beautiful one, lest Sam’s attention, however fraternal, drift from her for a nanosecond.