Kindred Souls

by Ellie Wade

Alma presses her lips together in a grin and lowers her chin in approval.

  “I’ll finish up here. I’m pretty sure the song she’s on is a duet.” I motion toward the living room. “She needs you.”

  Alma lifts her arm and circles her hand around the back of my neck as she pulls me down for another kiss. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she whispers against my lips.

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  25

  Alma

  The light blue-gray walls are gone, and I can’t deny that it hurts. Leo painted our bedroom walls with the perfect shade. He knew I’d love that calming color, and I did. And now…like so many other things, it’s gone.

  But it has to be.

  The night that we got back from Lake Michigan, I asked Amos to stay over. When the time came for bed, I couldn’t bring him into my bedroom. I couldn’t sleep with Amos in a room that Leo built for me, in the bed that we conceived Love in. I simply couldn’t.

  So we slept in one of the guest bedrooms and have been ever since. The guest bedroom is nice and comfortable, but it’s not my room. I can’t be afraid to sleep in my room.

  The truth is, I’ve barely slept in it since the funeral. I started sleeping elsewhere in the house until the thought of going back to my bedroom was too much.

  Now, it looks nothing like it did. I hired a company to come in and redesign the space. I wanted it inspired after Betty and Florence’s lake house. I supplied the designer with pictures from the lake house, and they did the rest.

  Everything is new—the color of the walls, the curtains, the furniture, the moldings, and the bed. It’s all new. It was either make it so that I could stand to sleep in the master bedroom or get a new house. The point being, I need to move on.

  I love this house, so this will have to do.

  The walls are now a cream, and the accents in the room are brighter blues. It’s whimsical, romantic, classy, and nautical all at once, just like the lake house. It’s perfect, and Amos is going to love it. He has no idea that it’s been worked on as the work crew is gone by the time he comes over at night.

  I wonder if there’s a term that means one’s heart is breaking from sadness and happiness all at once? Of course, there’s bittersweet, but that doesn’t fully capture how I’m feeling right now. It’s so much worse than bitter and so much greater than sweet. My heart tears open with the intensity of both emotions as I stare at the framed picture of me, Amos, and Love, on the dresser. It’s one of my favorites, taken this summer. The three of us are squished in tight. Large, happy smiles grace our faces. We’re a family, and truth be told, we’ve always been.

  Amos has been there for me since day one. He held my hand as I gave birth to Love. He changed diapers and rocked her in his arms so I could get a nap in when she kept me up all night. He’s cleaned her up and bandaged her cuts and boo-boos. He makes her laugh and cooks her dinner. He loves her, and he loves me. We appear to be a family because we are one.

  Love may never know her biological Daddy, but she’ll never go a day without love from a man who loves her just as much as Leo would if he were here.

  In a life with so much heartbreak, there’s an exponential amount of love. It’s all around me. It’s in the children’s faces at work. It radiates from my friends every time we’re together. It flows through my mother in every act she does for Love and me. Amos has given me all of his love, freely and often, since he was seven. Life isn’t fair, but I can’t deny that it’s beautiful. It didn’t work out the way I thought it would, but it’s still working out pretty well when I stop and truly look around at the blessings in my life.

  So my heart hurts. It aches with so much loss but even more love. And I’m grateful.

  “Alma?” Amos calls from downstairs.

  I close the door to my bedroom and rush down the stairs.

  “Hey! What are you doing here?” I ask before standing up on my toes and giving him a kiss.

  “Well, I just finished my home visits for today, so I thought I’d swing by and see what you were up to. Where’s Love?” He looks around.

  “Oh, she just left. Lee-Anne is taking her to the herb store and then to the park.”

  “Well, that sounds fun.”

  “I’m actually glad you stopped by. I have a present for you.”

  “You do?” He quirks up a brow.

  “Yes.” I grin. “I was going to show you tonight, but since you’re here, you might as well see now.” I extend my pinky, and he takes it in his and follows me up the stairs.

  “You ready?” I ask, my hand on the knob of the bedroom door.

  “Um, sure.” Amos chuckles.

  I swing the door open and stand to the side to watch Amos take in the new space.

  He looks from me to the room and back to me again. “Alma…” he breathes out.

  “Come on.” I pull him over the threshold. “I know that it’s silly that we’ve been sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s not silly. I completely understand.”

  “I know you do, and that’s one of the many things I love about you. But I couldn’t avoid my bedroom forever, so I had it remodeled. Everything is brand new. New bed, chair—everything.”

  “It looks like the lake house.” He moves slowly around the room.

  I grin. “Yes. That was the design inspiration. I wanted it to be our space. I wanted a room that would bring joy to us and remind us of our incredible weekend together. A place that was just ours to make new memories together.”

  “I love it,” he says, picking up the framed picture on the dresser.

  “You do?” My voice raises an octave.

  “I really do. It’s perfect, Alma. Just perfect.”

  He steps over to the bedside table where I have a four-picture collage strip framed. It’s the two of us from our senior year in high school.

  “The photo booth from the movie theater,” he recalls.

  “Yep. We were there seeing the last Harry Potter movie.”

  “I remember. Good thing we had these taken prior to the movie. Your eyes were a puffy mess afterward.”

  “I know.” I sigh. “So many good wizards dead.”

  He shuts the bedroom door.

  “So new everything?”

  “Everything,” I say.

  “I wonder if the bed works?” He takes a step toward me, and an immediate need for him rushes through me.

  “I wouldn’t know.” I shrug, feeling my cheeks flush. Goose bumps trickle across my skin.

  Standing before me, he laces our fingers together and trails kisses along my neck. Eyes closed, I sigh as his mouth cherishes my skin in soft lingering pecks.

  “I love our room.” Amos’s hot breath flutters against my neck, the heavy combination of his words and movements skew my equilibrium, and I sway.

  “I love you,” I breathe.

  He releases my trembling hands and guides me down onto the bed. His deep brown gaze sears into mine, only breaking the connection to remove our clothing. He stands before me a picture of perfection. He exudes masculinity. Every cell in my body craves him, and every rhythmic beat of my heart wants him.

  He lowers to his knees and trails kisses along my inner thigh until his mouth is at my core.

  “Wait.” The command a shaky inhalation. I pull at his arms. “I need you, now.”

  He climbs up my body and rests his forearms on either side of my head, boxing me in. The heat from his skin burns against me as a fiery need ignites within.

  His gaze holds mine as he enters me. I draw in a deep breath as he fills me so full. So completely. The sensation is exquisite. He hisses as he starts to move.

  “I love you, Alma.” He kisses me.

  “I love you,” I say, and he kisses me again.

  We stare into each other’s eyes as his hips move faster against me. There’s so much in his beautiful depths, so much love, and loyalty, and hunger for me. I need Amos in every way possible, and I know that I always will.

&
nbsp; I raise my arm and move my thumb against his parted lips. The movement causes a growl to erupt from him, and he crashes his lips to mine. He ravishes my mouth with his as he thrusts harder and deeper into me. He takes the kiss deeper. His tongue dances with mine with greedy abandon.

  I’m addicted to everything about Amos. The way he loves me. The way he makes me feel. The way he cherishes and looks after me. The way he understands me. The way he knows my mind, body, and soul deeper than I know myself. He’s become someone I can’t resist, and he’d never hurt me.

  He’s my ultimate protector. My lover. My friend.

  My stomach tightens, and the familiar pull grows within as Amos takes me higher and higher.

  He threads his fingers through mine and holds them against the bed over my head. His voice raspy and tight with need pleads, “Don’t look away. Keep your eyes open. I want to see you fall.” His words are my undoing, and my mouth opens in a sob as I start shaking. My body trembles with enormous jolts of pleasure, electricity lighting every piece of me aflame.

  Amos’s mouth falls slack, and he moans, his face almost pained as he releases inside me. It’s one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen.

  As the tremors rolling through me abate, Amos falls atop me. I can feel his heart thrumming wildly against my chest.

  He kisses the side of my face. “It works,” he says, the timbre of his voice all husky. “The new bed. It works.”

  I laugh and push his chest. He rolls off to lie next to me.

  “Yeah, I’d say it works just fine.”

  The room is quiet save for our sated breaths, our pinkies connected between us. “I think you should move in. Officially. You’re here all the time anyway. What’s the point of paying for your apartment?”

  I turn on my side. Elbow bent, I prop my head up on my hand. Amos turns and mirrors me.

  “It hasn’t been that long, Alma. Only a couple of months. We have all the time in the world. We don’t have to rush.”

  “It’s not rushing, though. We’ve barely spent more than a few hours apart in years. You’re always here, and I want you to be. You only go to your place to sleep, occasionally, and change clothes. Life is short, Amos, and I want to surround myself with those I love. I don’t want to wait for some pre-determined amount of time until it’s suitable for us to live together. I’ve lost enough, and I simply want to be happy. You make me happy. You make Love happy. Your place is here.” I hesitate. “I mean, if you want it to be.”

  “Stop.” He thumps my nose playfully with his finger. “Of course I want it to be.”

  “Yeah?” I raise a brow.

  “Yeah. I’ll bring over my stuff this weekend.”

  “Good.” I kiss him and stand from the bed.

  Amos sits up. “Wait.” His voice carries a hint of panic. “Where are you going?” He traces his finger along my waist and up to my breast before pulling on my nipple. “Come back here.”

  “No.” I giggle. “They’re going to be back soon.”

  “So? The door is closed. And it’s not like Lee-Anne doesn’t know we’re sleeping together.”

  “Of course she knows but let’s not give her a reason to bring it up. I mean, unless you want to hear a completely graphic and inappropriate story about her and my dad going at it because you know that’s where the conversation will lead.” I eye him.

  He jumps from the bed and pulls on his boxers. “Oh, no. You are so right. She’ll go there.”

  “Absolutely she will. She loves talking about their sex life for some reason. I walked in on enough of it when I was a kid. I don’t need to hear about it now.”

  Amos pulls on his shirt as I finish buttoning my pants.

  “So basically, that was fun, and we’re never doing it again,” he teases, causing me to laugh.

  “Stop. We can. Now that you’re living here, we’ll just have to have a few guidelines and boundaries, is all. Mom is good about giving me my space when she thinks I need it.”

  “That’s true. She is.”

  I cradle his face in my hands and pull him into a kiss. “And now that you’re living here, we’re going to be doing that a lot.”

  “Promise?”

  “Definitely.”

  Lee-Anne has left for the evening, and Amos is back at his place retrieving some clothes. Love and I sit at the table, our hands each in our own tub of colorful foam.

  Every now and then, I pretend I can keep up with the Pinterest moms and do a project from the site. Tonight’s adventure turned out to be quite easy and incredibly satisfying. I put some dish soap, water, and food coloring in a metal bowl and beat it on high with the mixer until it turned into foam. I made several different colored batches, and now we’re swirling them together and building peaks and valleys in the most colorful and sensory-pleasing way.

  “Oh, I love that. Are you making a pink mountain?” I ask as Love piles more pink fluff into the same spot.

  “Yup.” She nods. She peers into my bin. “I yuv your tornado.” She motions toward the tall multihued shape I twisted into a cone.

  Tilting my head to the side, I look at the shape Love pointed out. “You’re right. That’s totally a tornado. I didn’t even realize. You’re one smart cookie.”

  Appearing satisfied, Love goes back to building her mountain. My use of Amos’s nickname reminds me of the question I asked him earlier today.

  My romantic relationship with Amos has been a natural progression, and one that hasn’t sparked any questions from Love. The reality is that he’s always been in her life, and for the past three years, he’s been here hanging out with us more than he’s not. Amos and I have always had a physical friendship—hugs, kisses on the head, and clasping pinkies have been our norm. Over the past couple of months, the affection has increased to include hand holding and kisses on the lips.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something,” I begin, feeling a lot of pressure to do this right.

  Love continues to swirl the foam around and squish it through her fingers. So I continue. “Lovie, I love Amos.” the declaration comes barreling out of my mouth along with any hopes of successfully working the topic into the conversation. Smooth.

  “Me, too,” she says without skipping a beat.

  “Right.” I chuckle. “Well, Mommy used to love Amos like a friend, but now I love him like a boyfriend.”

  She nods. “I know. You kiss on the yips.”

  My heart expands in my chest, and I smile wide. Gosh, I love this girl. “Right, and how do you feel about that?”

  “Happy.”

  “Oh, good. It makes me happy, too,” I admit. “So you like that Amos is Mommy’s boyfriend?”

  She nods.

  “Wonderful. Okay.” I let out a relieved sigh. “Now, what would you think if Amos moved into our house and lived here with us all the time?”

  Love turns to me, her little eyebrows furrowed as if she doesn’t quite understand the question.

  “So his clothes would be here in the closet. He would sleep here every night and get up here every morning. He wouldn’t leave to go back to his house. He would live here like you and me do, and we would share our house with him. And after I tuck you in at night and you fall asleep, I would go to sleep in my bedroom and share my room with Amos.” I swallow and wait for her reply.

  “Will he make me bwekfast?” she inquires in a sweet voice.

  “Oh, yeah. He can make you breakfast or any other meal whenever you want.”

  She nods satisfied. “I yike it.”

  “You like that he’s going to live here?”

  “Yes!”

  “So it will make you happy if Amos lives with us and is Mommy’s boyfriend?”

  Love nods again. “Can he make me pancakes?

  “Sure. He can whip up some pancakes in the morning. Do you want blueberries, or…”

  “Chocolate chips!” She claps her hands together, and bits of foam fly through the air.

  I kiss her head with a laugh. “Then it’s settled. Tomo
rrow, Amos will make chocolate chip pancakes for my girl.”

  Love goes back to playing in her tub of foam, and my heart’s content.

  26

  Amos

  The five-foot-tall golden “2” and “8” balloons are positioned in the foyer, ready to greet the partygoers as they enter. Lee-Anne has Alma and Love whisked away on a ‘girls day of fun’ as a cover while I get the party ready.

  Alma’s never had a surprise party, and this one will definitely be a surprise, given that her actual birthday was a couple of weeks ago in July. She spent the day of her twenty-eighth birthday with me, Love, and Lee-Anne, hanging out at the house, playing her favorite games, eating her favorite foods, and relaxing with her favorite people. It’s what she asked for, and it’s what she got.

  I wanted to do something else, some more to celebrate her. The anniversary of Leo’s death is coming up in a few weeks, and in a way, I suppose, I want to pull the focus from that or at least turn the sad energy into a celebration for Alma. She’s spent so much time these past four years honoring Leo and grieving. It’s time she’s celebrated for the incredible person she is. She survived a tragic event while growing a healthy baby inside her, made sure the Lair thrived, and has been the best mother to Love. She loves everyone around her fiercely. She’s superwoman, and I fall deeper in love with her every day.

  Bringing everyone she loves together to celebrate her is the least I can do.

  All of our co-workers from the Lair are here and past college friends including Quinn and Ethan. I invited Ollie, Cat, and Leo’s mother as they all care for Alma. The collection of loved ones mingle in the backyard as I wait for the girls to get back from their adventure.

  Finally, they do.

  Alma steps in the door and eyes the balloons. “What is this?”

  I extend my hand, taking hers in mine. “Close your eyes.”

  “Okay,” Alma says with a giggle and does as instructed.

  Lee-Anne holds Love on her hip and follows us as I lead Alma through the house to the back deck. I motion toward the hushed crowd, and they yell out a collective, “Surprise!”