Someone Like Hugh -Draft Complete And EDITING-

Chapter Seven:

Amelia's pov:

I leaned down to put the Turkey in the oven, and when I stood, Hugh was there.  "Hey," he spoke.

"You survived," I smiled softly. 

"Your brothers are fun," he smiled.

"I can't tell if that's sarcasm or not," I laughed.

"Definitely not. Are you cooking all this food by yourself?"

"You ask too many questions," I teased as I turned to the large cake I had been preparing. I picked up my piping bag and began to swirl icing around the rim of the bottom layer. I then put strawberry custard in the middle, then I added another layer and did the same.  I placed a final layer on top and pushed the cake into the freezer. I set my piping bag down in a bowl in the fridge.

I moved painfully over to the sink and began washing dishes. "Are you ever not moving?" He teased.

"Not when I'm here," I laughed back, but when I looked at Hugh he seemed concerned and unimpressed with the joke. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"Like I'm some puzzle for you to figure out, or someone you should protect. I appreciate what you did earlier, but I don't want her turning on you," I replied, as I set the dish I just finished washing on the drying rack.

"She was out of line," he spoke stepping closer to me. I felt myself stepping backward reflexively. His entire tone shifted into something angry, protective, and possessive.

"It happens sometimes. It's a product of her illness feeding off of her frustrations and prejudices. It's better to just roll with it, it keeps things more mild," I replied.

"Amelia," he spoke in a raspy voice. "You are good, you are sweet, and you are kind. You deserve so much better than this," he added, lifting a hand to wipe some flour from my face.

"We all have our purpose, Hugh. Sometimes we don't get the life we deserve. It may be hard to understand, but mine is here," I replied ducking under his arm and returning to the counter. I began to chop up green peppers, red peppers, onions and mushrooms for the rice.

"How can you think that this is okay?" he pushed.

"I don't! But sometimes in life we don't really have a choice if doing the right thing brings us hurt. Sometimes, that choice is made for us by circumstance, and all we can do is grow with it," I nearly yelled back. I gripped the counter as I started to feel dizzy.

I took a deep breath and forced back the fogginess. I breathed deeper and looked at the clock. It was three o'clock and I had missed my medication at noon. I reached into my pocket and pulled my pills from the small pill box. I turned my back to Hugh and quickly swallowed them.

He looked at me worriedly. As I pulled the cake from the freezer and retrieved my piping bag. I quickly covered the outside of the cake in icing and made a swirled border along the bottom.  At the top I made a smaller version of the same border and placed sliced strawberries strategically on the top. Then I slid the cake back into the freezer.

I grabbed my casserole dish, dumped in the right amount of uncooked rice and broth, a little oil, the vegetables, and mixed it around before setting it in the oven as well. I washed my cutting board and knife and gathered my ingredients for the salad. I began chopping everything, and when I looked up he was staring at me.

"You know, if acting doesn't work out, you'd make a wonderful stalker," I teased. He tilted his head back and laughed a deep hearty laugh.

"Maybe, though I've only ever "stalked" one person. I'm not as experienced as you may think," he laughed.

"Are you going to be at dinner?" I asked him.

"Will you?"

"Yes."

"Then yes. I'll just wear my glasses and go by my middle name if that's alright," he smiled.