Scene: The Day After Yesterday (5)
Henry opened the door to find Amelia carrying a basket wrapped up in brightly colored cellophane. "Hi," she said, a little too loudly, because she was nervous. "I brought a welcome basket for Rose. And Max. But no apples."
Henry wasn't sure if the 'no apples' was meant to be tongue in cheek or reassuring, but then, neither was Amelia. He moved aside so she could come in. "Rose is out with Winona." When they'd finally gotten home and settled enough to discuss the shock of his sister's appearance they'd realized she had no possessions beyond the dress she'd arrived with. But somehow that had occurred to Winona as well and she'd picked Rose up in the morning and set off to remedy the situation.
"And Max is just leaving," Max added. This was news to Henry but the way Max saw it he was somewhat stuck with Henry and Rose drama but he didn't have to hang around for Henry and Amelia drama. "Thanks," he said to Amelia, nodding at the basket -- she was a sweet girl -- and waved to them both as he went.
The door closed behind Max. Amelia put down her basket, looked for her cat, and touched Henry's arm in empathy, all at once. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay, all things considered." He rubbed his neck. "Pretty tired."
Amelia nodded rapidly. "I can imagine." She stopped nodding just as rapidly. "Or, I can't but ...but I'll try. And I..." She frowned, trying to think of the right word. "Empathize."
"Thank you."
They shared an awkward smile and an even awkwarder silence. Henry ushered her into the main room and onto the couch.
"How are you doing?"
Amelia shrugged as she sat. "Okay. My life is upside down but you know," She laughed in a resigned and unconvincing way. "That's my life."
Henry sat beside her. "That's a hard life."
She shook her head with assertion. She couldn't let him think she wasn't adult enough to deal with her life, or thought it was any harder than anyone else's. "Just because it isn't easy doesn't make it hard."
"It makes it harder than easy," countered Henry, with a compassion she wasn't sure she wanted.
"I can handle it," she said with a lot of bravado that she was simultaneously trying to play down. "Or at least I will be able to." This was a promise to herself, not just him. She had to believe it.
Henry took it all in. "It's okay to be scared."
She nodded, because she didn't disagree, but asked, "What are you scared of?"
Henry found that interesting and leaned forward. "Why do you think I'm scared?"
"I don't." She smiled. "But if you're not, how do you know it's okay?"
"Experience."
Amelia's smile tightened. "You don't have to worry about me."
"Do you worry about yourself?" He continued to sound more like a counselor than a friend and she began to think it was on purpose.
She took a deep breath. "I want you to care about me but I don't want you to take care of me. Like you take care of my cat." She paused to give said cat a scratch behind the ears. It was calming. "Of course I worry about myself. I'm a mess. But... at least I know that and I'm working on it?" Her expression betrayed that she wanted his approval, and a pat on the head like a cat, as much as she said otherwise.
Normally Henry would ask her what she's doing to work on it, but he was tired. "Do you want anything to drink?"
She blinked but decided to take that as a win. "Sure, thank you."
"What would you like?"
Amelia wondered if this was some kind of test. But if it was she had no idea what the right answer was. "Whatever you like. Or have." Inwardly she berated herself for going with a safe answer, which in her esteem was worse than a wrong answer. Outwardly she tried to hide the fact that a question about what she wanted to drink had sent her into some kind of existential crisis.
Henry made hot chocolate, with cinnamon. Amelia bit back a complaint that she wasn't five because he had a mug for himself as well. She didn't know it was a family recipe.
She smiled thanks and took a sip that burned her tongue. "What are your plans?" she asked as she set the cup on her lap to cool.
Henry blew over his cup. "Plans for what?"
"Um, well, your family?" She bit her lip.
"I have no idea," he answered honestly.
Amelia fidgeted, pulling her mug away from the cat. "I just mean... I know how important family is and I want to help, however I can, even if it's just being someone to talk to or... I just want you to know I'm here... if you need me. Or want me."
Henry gave her a measured look. "I appreciate that, but you need to worry about yourself. I can talk to the other Henry."
She tried not to sulk as much as she wanted to. "Okay, but if you ever do want to talk to me. I'm going back to school the day after tomorrow but I'm not disappearing and... and... okay?"
"Okay." His expression softened. "It's nothing personal, but it's not your responsibility to be my confidant. If anything, it's the opposite."
Amelia looked away. She thought it would be better if it was personal, probably. "I'm your friend," she protested, and tried to summon some better feeling to counter her frustration over wanting more than she had any right to want. She settled on impertinence, which was a choice, if maybe not the best one. "I think I'm a lot more fun to talk to than Other Henry. So there."
"Most people are more fun than the other Henry," agreed Henry. "But it's not really about being fun." He lowered his voice, in conspiracy. "Also don't tell other Henry I said that."
It might have been calculated to calm her, but it worked anyway. "Okay, will you call me when you want to have fun?"
"I will call you when I want to have fun," he repeated, but changed the subject before either could work out what that meant. "How is your brother?"
Amelia looked sad over her hot chocolate. "He's pretty upset. And worried about me."
"I'm glad you have him."
She nodded. She was, too. "He's my truest love, I guess. So. Yay."
"Isn't that a good thing?" prodded Henry.
"Yes, of course! It's just funny."
"Why is it funny?"
Something in the way he asked reminded Amelia that everything that happened with the apple was Henry's reality, which wasn't funny, and also made her think that maybe he'd brought up her brother so he could talk about his sister, but she, of course, had made it all about her. That's so Amelia.
"Because I was afraid to call him my best friend for years," she said, answering with whatever first came to mind, because her father always said it held the most truth. "Because that would mean that no one else was, and I have trouble with that kind of thing." She lowered her eyes, feeling foolish. "And there's just a lot of stuff. With people. And history. It's . . . hard to explain."
"You can try," Henry offered. "If you want."
She had no idea if she wanted, but she was determined that he deserved an answer. And the truth. "It's silly. It shouldn't matter, but." She looked up. "I know I get in the way of his relationships with other people. So it's like a weird backwards validation that it's not my fault."
Henry frowned. "I don't follow."
"I'm sorry." She sounded miserable, which he estimated was an overreaction. "I'm probably wrong anyway." She took a breath and tried again. "Have you ever felt like you were too close to someone? Or someone was too close to you?"
Henry considered. "I'm not sure. Probably, but it's hard to remember what I remember right now."
Amelia would rather talk about that but she plowed ahead because she was determined that he deserved an answer. "Well, Ben waking me up means we're exactly as close as we should be." Out of context this statement made no sense and in context it was overreaching, but Henry listened. "And it's funny that something like that makes me feel better because it's really quite strange."
Henry tried to process all of it. She wasn't simple. "Well, it's good that you feel better."
Amelia considered him a long moment. She plucked her cat off her lap and placed him on Henry's. "I think you need to destress more than I do."
He smiled and pet the cat. "Thanks."
Amelia was pleased by that response, and made a decision. "I have a question."
Henry cocked his head. She hadn't asked to ask a question in a while, though it was her habit when they first met. "Okay. I'll try to answer, if I can."
Amelia took a deep breath. "Jake and I... are not together... Right now." It was maybe the third time she'd said it out loud, and she stumbled over the words a little. "I need... some time alone, but...maybe when I come back, for the holidays... we could...do something ...together ...like a date..."
Henry stared at her over his cup of cocoa.
Amelia bit her lip and molded her expression into something she hoped was cute. She waited with her wide eyes.
Henry put his cup down. "You should wait and think about it, and if you still want to ask me that when you're back for the holidays, I'll answer."
"...Okay." She felt her cheeks burn red and looked down. She didn't know what to do next, but she had to do something or they'd be stuck in this awkward nexus for weeks. "Are we still friends?"
"Yes, we're still friends," Henry answered without hesitation, and repeating her words, as was his habit. "Of course."
He squeezed her hand. She clung to his. "Will Rose be back soon? And Max? Maybe we can all ...watch a movie together?" She took a breath. "I want to do a friends thing. . . ? But I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
He nodded, he understood. "You just ended things with Jake and that's a huge decision. So you're welcome to stay, but just as friends."
"That's all I want right now," she said softly, and it was true. If she jumped from Jake to Henry it wouldn't be about her. She was trying to find a balance somewhere in all this.
"Okay." He texted Winona and Max to invite them back. The night ended with laughter, and good friends.
Henry wasn't sure if the 'no apples' was meant to be tongue in cheek or reassuring, but then, neither was Amelia. He moved aside so she could come in. "Rose is out with Winona." When they'd finally gotten home and settled enough to discuss the shock of his sister's appearance they'd realized she had no possessions beyond the dress she'd arrived with. But somehow that had occurred to Winona as well and she'd picked Rose up in the morning and set off to remedy the situation.
"And Max is just leaving," Max added. This was news to Henry but the way Max saw it he was somewhat stuck with Henry and Rose drama but he didn't have to hang around for Henry and Amelia drama. "Thanks," he said to Amelia, nodding at the basket -- she was a sweet girl -- and waved to them both as he went.
The door closed behind Max. Amelia put down her basket, looked for her cat, and touched Henry's arm in empathy, all at once. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay, all things considered." He rubbed his neck. "Pretty tired."
Amelia nodded rapidly. "I can imagine." She stopped nodding just as rapidly. "Or, I can't but ...but I'll try. And I..." She frowned, trying to think of the right word. "Empathize."
"Thank you."
They shared an awkward smile and an even awkwarder silence. Henry ushered her into the main room and onto the couch.
"How are you doing?"
Amelia shrugged as she sat. "Okay. My life is upside down but you know," She laughed in a resigned and unconvincing way. "That's my life."
Henry sat beside her. "That's a hard life."
She shook her head with assertion. She couldn't let him think she wasn't adult enough to deal with her life, or thought it was any harder than anyone else's. "Just because it isn't easy doesn't make it hard."
"It makes it harder than easy," countered Henry, with a compassion she wasn't sure she wanted.
"I can handle it," she said with a lot of bravado that she was simultaneously trying to play down. "Or at least I will be able to." This was a promise to herself, not just him. She had to believe it.
Henry took it all in. "It's okay to be scared."
She nodded, because she didn't disagree, but asked, "What are you scared of?"
Henry found that interesting and leaned forward. "Why do you think I'm scared?"
"I don't." She smiled. "But if you're not, how do you know it's okay?"
"Experience."
Amelia's smile tightened. "You don't have to worry about me."
"Do you worry about yourself?" He continued to sound more like a counselor than a friend and she began to think it was on purpose.
She took a deep breath. "I want you to care about me but I don't want you to take care of me. Like you take care of my cat." She paused to give said cat a scratch behind the ears. It was calming. "Of course I worry about myself. I'm a mess. But... at least I know that and I'm working on it?" Her expression betrayed that she wanted his approval, and a pat on the head like a cat, as much as she said otherwise.
Normally Henry would ask her what she's doing to work on it, but he was tired. "Do you want anything to drink?"
She blinked but decided to take that as a win. "Sure, thank you."
"What would you like?"
Amelia wondered if this was some kind of test. But if it was she had no idea what the right answer was. "Whatever you like. Or have." Inwardly she berated herself for going with a safe answer, which in her esteem was worse than a wrong answer. Outwardly she tried to hide the fact that a question about what she wanted to drink had sent her into some kind of existential crisis.
Henry made hot chocolate, with cinnamon. Amelia bit back a complaint that she wasn't five because he had a mug for himself as well. She didn't know it was a family recipe.
She smiled thanks and took a sip that burned her tongue. "What are your plans?" she asked as she set the cup on her lap to cool.
Henry blew over his cup. "Plans for what?"
"Um, well, your family?" She bit her lip.
"I have no idea," he answered honestly.
Amelia fidgeted, pulling her mug away from the cat. "I just mean... I know how important family is and I want to help, however I can, even if it's just being someone to talk to or... I just want you to know I'm here... if you need me. Or want me."
Henry gave her a measured look. "I appreciate that, but you need to worry about yourself. I can talk to the other Henry."
She tried not to sulk as much as she wanted to. "Okay, but if you ever do want to talk to me. I'm going back to school the day after tomorrow but I'm not disappearing and... and... okay?"
"Okay." His expression softened. "It's nothing personal, but it's not your responsibility to be my confidant. If anything, it's the opposite."
Amelia looked away. She thought it would be better if it was personal, probably. "I'm your friend," she protested, and tried to summon some better feeling to counter her frustration over wanting more than she had any right to want. She settled on impertinence, which was a choice, if maybe not the best one. "I think I'm a lot more fun to talk to than Other Henry. So there."
"Most people are more fun than the other Henry," agreed Henry. "But it's not really about being fun." He lowered his voice, in conspiracy. "Also don't tell other Henry I said that."
It might have been calculated to calm her, but it worked anyway. "Okay, will you call me when you want to have fun?"
"I will call you when I want to have fun," he repeated, but changed the subject before either could work out what that meant. "How is your brother?"
Amelia looked sad over her hot chocolate. "He's pretty upset. And worried about me."
"I'm glad you have him."
She nodded. She was, too. "He's my truest love, I guess. So. Yay."
"Isn't that a good thing?" prodded Henry.
"Yes, of course! It's just funny."
"Why is it funny?"
Something in the way he asked reminded Amelia that everything that happened with the apple was Henry's reality, which wasn't funny, and also made her think that maybe he'd brought up her brother so he could talk about his sister, but she, of course, had made it all about her. That's so Amelia.
"Because I was afraid to call him my best friend for years," she said, answering with whatever first came to mind, because her father always said it held the most truth. "Because that would mean that no one else was, and I have trouble with that kind of thing." She lowered her eyes, feeling foolish. "And there's just a lot of stuff. With people. And history. It's . . . hard to explain."
"You can try," Henry offered. "If you want."
She had no idea if she wanted, but she was determined that he deserved an answer. And the truth. "It's silly. It shouldn't matter, but." She looked up. "I know I get in the way of his relationships with other people. So it's like a weird backwards validation that it's not my fault."
Henry frowned. "I don't follow."
"I'm sorry." She sounded miserable, which he estimated was an overreaction. "I'm probably wrong anyway." She took a breath and tried again. "Have you ever felt like you were too close to someone? Or someone was too close to you?"
Henry considered. "I'm not sure. Probably, but it's hard to remember what I remember right now."
Amelia would rather talk about that but she plowed ahead because she was determined that he deserved an answer. "Well, Ben waking me up means we're exactly as close as we should be." Out of context this statement made no sense and in context it was overreaching, but Henry listened. "And it's funny that something like that makes me feel better because it's really quite strange."
Henry tried to process all of it. She wasn't simple. "Well, it's good that you feel better."
Amelia considered him a long moment. She plucked her cat off her lap and placed him on Henry's. "I think you need to destress more than I do."
He smiled and pet the cat. "Thanks."
Amelia was pleased by that response, and made a decision. "I have a question."
Henry cocked his head. She hadn't asked to ask a question in a while, though it was her habit when they first met. "Okay. I'll try to answer, if I can."
Amelia took a deep breath. "Jake and I... are not together... Right now." It was maybe the third time she'd said it out loud, and she stumbled over the words a little. "I need... some time alone, but...maybe when I come back, for the holidays... we could...do something ...together ...like a date..."
Henry stared at her over his cup of cocoa.
Amelia bit her lip and molded her expression into something she hoped was cute. She waited with her wide eyes.
Henry put his cup down. "You should wait and think about it, and if you still want to ask me that when you're back for the holidays, I'll answer."
"...Okay." She felt her cheeks burn red and looked down. She didn't know what to do next, but she had to do something or they'd be stuck in this awkward nexus for weeks. "Are we still friends?"
"Yes, we're still friends," Henry answered without hesitation, and repeating her words, as was his habit. "Of course."
He squeezed her hand. She clung to his. "Will Rose be back soon? And Max? Maybe we can all ...watch a movie together?" She took a breath. "I want to do a friends thing. . . ? But I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
He nodded, he understood. "You just ended things with Jake and that's a huge decision. So you're welcome to stay, but just as friends."
"That's all I want right now," she said softly, and it was true. If she jumped from Jake to Henry it wouldn't be about her. She was trying to find a balance somewhere in all this.
"Okay." He texted Winona and Max to invite them back. The night ended with laughter, and good friends.