Chapter 7 Alright
Andrew smirked. “You’ll be fine.”
“I want him to love me,” she said quickly. “How far out are you?”
“He’s going to love you,” Andrew replied. “Pete’s simple. He’s not hard to impress.”
In the backseat, Pete frowned slightly, eyes flicking toward the front.
“Oh my God,” Amelia squealed. “So I finally get to meet him today. Ahhhhh!”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “You do.”
He turned into a quieter street, lined with parked cars.
“I’ll call you back,” he added. “I’m driving. Ten minutes tops.”
“Okay!” Amelia said excitedly. “I’ll be waiting!”
The call ended.
The car fell quiet again except for the soft hum of the engine.
Pete leaned forward slightly.
“Is that the auntie?” he asked.
Andrew glanced at him through the mirror. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“She sounded really excited,” Pete said.
“She is,” Andrew replied. “Are you?”
Pete hesitated. “I guess. I don’t really know her.”
“You just have to be open-minded,” Andrew said. “We’re all going to have a lot of fun.”
Pete nodded slowly. “Okay.”
—
The SUV pulled into a residential driveway moments later. Warm light spilled from the windows of the house ahead. Andrew cut the engine and stepped out first.
“Come on,” he said, opening the back door.
Pete climbed down, backpack slung over one shoulder. He stood awkwardly beside the car, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
The front door swung open almost immediately.
Amelia stood there.
Her eyes locked onto Pete instantly.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
Pete stiffened.
Amelia rushed forward without thinking, then stopped herself halfway, hands hovering awkwardly in the air.
“You must be Pete,” she said, voice bright but careful. “Hi. I’m Amelia.”
Pete looked up at her, then back at Andrew.
“This is her,” Andrew said. “The auntie I told you about.”
“Hi,” Pete said quietly.
Amelia crouched down slightly, keeping a respectful distance. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Pete blinked. “You have?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Your dad talks about you all the time.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I made dinner,” Amelia added nervously. “Well, I tried. I didn’t know you were coming, so I didn't make a lot.”
“That’s fine,” Pete said.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Let’s get inside.”
—
The dining table was already set.
Pete slid into a chair cautiously, eyes darting around.
Amelia hovered near the counter, hands fidgeting.
“So,” she said. “Do you like pasta?”
Pete nodded. “Yeah.”
“Great,” she said. “Do you like chicken?”
“Yeah.”
Andrew smirked. “See? Easy.”
Amelia shot him a look.
As they ate, Amelia kept glancing at Pete, smiling every time he spoke.
“This is really good,” Pete said suddenly.
Amelia’s face lit up. “It is?”
Pete nodded. “My mom makes it like this too.”
Andrew’s fork froze mid-air.
Amelia’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “That’s nice,” she said softly.
Pete looked between them. “Can I have more juice?”
“Of course,” Amelia said immediately, jumping up.
Andrew watched her carefully as she poured the juice, the way she tried a little too hard to please.
Later, as Pete curled up on the couch with his tablet, Amelia leaned closer to Andrew and whispered, “I think he likes me.”
Andrew smirked. “I told you.”
Pete glanced up briefly, eyes flicking between them, then went back to his screen.
\----------
'ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER'
The iPad continued chattering softly, cartoon voices overlapping one another, even though Pete’s small chest now rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. His body was sprawled across the couch, one leg dangling off the edge, one arm stretched above his head, fingers curled loosely. His mouth was slightly open, a faint crease between his brows as sleep finally claimed him.
Amelia stood by the dining table, her fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of a chair. Her eyes hadn’t left Pete for even a second.
“He slept already,” she said quietly.
Andrew glanced over, fork still in his hand. He followed her gaze to the couch, then smirked faintly. “Yeah. He’s a fast sleeper.”
Amelia tilted her head, studying Pete’s face like she was committing it to memory. “We should take him inside.”
Andrew nodded. “Sure.”
He took the last bite of food, chewed slowly, then swallowed. He reached for his glass, drained it, and pushed the chair back as he stood. The chair legs scraped lightly against the floor.
“I’ll get him,” Andrew said, already moving.
Amelia stepped away from the table, following him toward the couch. “Can I carry him?”
Andrew paused, glancing over his shoulder. His brows lifted slightly in surprise before a smile spread across his face. “Of course,” he said easily. “If you want to. Be my guest.”
Her lips curved, pleased. “I’d very much want to.”
“Alright,” Andrew said, stepping aside and gesturing toward Pete.