Friday Mornings at Nine by Marilyn Brant Page B

personified.
    “Big step, starting college. Kind of a big deal for both of you, huh?”
    Staggered again by the suddenness of her shifting moods, she drew a shuddering breath at this and tried to brush off the pummeling of emotions that raced like the Running of the Bulls through her system. She strained to smile but couldn’t speak.
    “Really,” he said, tilting his head and edging closer to her. “How are you doing?”
    Now, what could she say to this? That she was a fucking mess? No one wanted to hear crap like that. All anybody ever really wanted from her was an “I’m fine” or a “Doing great” or, at most, an “It’s been a long day.”
    But for some reason, as she looked deep into his serious eyes, she found herself unable to maintain her well-honed masquerade, not in the face of all this concern. “Truthfully? N-Not well.”
    He nodded. “Yeah, I sort of figured that. It’s gotta be hard.”
    She swallowed. “It is.”
    They walked in silence for a few minutes, making a paisley pattern on the grass with their meandering footsteps.
    Aaron rubbed the ridge of his jaw. “I was the youngest kid in a family with three older sisters,” he told her, his voice soothing and slow. “When I left, it was tough on my mom. She loves my sisters like crazy and they still get together all the time, just the girls, but it was real difficult for her losing me. Not only because I was the last one to leave home, but because I was her son .” He met her gaze again and held it for a long moment.
    She finally had to look away. She spotted her weed remover a few feet to her left. Snatched it up from the grass. Fiddled uselessly with it.
    “My mom and I communicate really well,” Aaron continued, “but not in the same chatty way she talks with my sisters. Our conversations are less verbal. It’s more about just hanging out together.” He sighed and stopped walking. “So, my being gone created a different kind of absence for her, know what I mean?”
    Tamara’s breathing grew more labored. Dammit . “Unfortunately, yeah.”
    She studied the features of this increasingly alluring but, in essence, unfamiliar man. Tall, lean, strong—yes. But there was something more about him. She was overcome by his intuitive ability to express what she’d been trying to understand about herself and her relationship with Benji but, for some reason, hadn’t quite been able to pinpoint. Sure, Aaron was more articulate and in touch with emotions than most men—a characteristic she attributed to his profession as an online men’s health magazine writer. Or was it editor? Some literary thing, anyway…but still.
    She felt her throat tightening and a tempest brewing within her. If one of them didn’t change the subject fast, she knew a crying jag would hit. One uncontrollable and torrential enough to rival a tropical rainstorm.
    But, despite her efforts to hide her rising emotion, Aaron persisted in noticing it. Noticing her . He didn’t let her construct her usual facade. He stood next to her as a couple of fugitive tears leaked from her eyes and dropped onto the dry grass.
    “I don’t know if any of what I said helps.” He waited until she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and stopped sniffling. “But it’s easy to see what a great kid Benji is, even from the few times I’ve talked with him. You must miss having him at home.”
    And gently, very gently, he reached out his hand and touched her forearm. Just a couple of fingertips, but they burned his kind words into her skin and warmed her.
    “Thanks for understanding,” she murmured as he pulled away and took a few steps toward the curb.
    “Hey, it’s okay. Hang in there, you hear? I’ll see you soon.” He raised his palm in a quick wave and added, “Thanks, again, for letting me borrow this.” He motioned to the trimmer.
    “You’re welcome.” She swiped at her eyes and smiled a little. “Just bribe Sharky with a nice leather loafer or something—I’d