Love Mia Mccoy

“Don’t cry, Aaron.” I graze my fingers against my son’s arm as I try to sooth him.  His foot flairs from left to right every time I try to put his shoe on.  “We’re going to the book store to buy a gift for your Aunt Lexi, don’t you want to come?”

He continues to scream even after I finally muscle on his right shoe and carry him out to the car.  I buckle him into his car seat and kiss him on the forehead.  “Don’t cry,” I say again.

I leap into the front seat and start the car.  Shoot, I think.  Car keys.  I unbuckle, dash inside and retrieve the car keys from the counter.  When I return, Aaron is still sobbing and continues to do so until we arrive at Monica’s Book Store.  I lift Aaron out of his seat and rock him in my arms.

I unlock the trunk and with one hand, I open it then grab the stroller.  It takes many attempts to shake it open and when it finally does, I unfold the last of it with my foot.  I carefully place Aaron into his stroller and he smiles at me behind his teary eyes.  His eyes remind me so much of Jamie, dark green with specks of blue.  It kills me every time to look my own son in the eyes, but at least he got my dark curly hair.

When I wheel Aaron into the book store, warm air tingles at my skin.  This reminds me that I should have brought Aaron a jacket, especially on this chill November day.  It’s no wonder he was crying.  What a great father I am . . . 

We browse the shelves and every so often I’m clawing away some book near the bottom Aaron’s gotten his hands on.  This makes it very difficult to shop for something my sister would like and I’m starting to doubt that this was a good idea.  I have plenty of books on my shelves in the apartment I could just package up and send across the county.  Okay, not really, but I could find something to send her.

“Don’t touch that Aaron,” I command him once again.  It’s when I’m gripping the book out of his hand when I glance forward and lock gaze with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.  I absentmindedly let Aaron tug the book out of my hand as I rise to my feet slowly.

She smiles shyly and returns a book to its place.  “Hi, Greg.”

I freeze and stand in shock.  Mia Hamilton, of all people.  Isn’t she still furious at me for turning her down in college?  What’s that smile on her face? I’ve never noticed but she does actually have a nice smile . . .

“H-hey Mia,” I stutter awkwardly.  I haven’t seen her in over two years and never expected I would ever see her again, especially since I married Jamie after I graduated. 

I never would have cared to see her again, either.  I guess we were sorta friends but I never had any interest in her.  Apparently she had liked me for months before she told me in the April of my Senior year.  I didn’t understand how she could be so obsessed with me after having had just a few conversations.  The truth is, I never even took notice of her -- ever.  She always had her nose up a book, stray stands of her straight, brown hair poking up from behind.  She’d lower the book, smiling at me through her nerdy glasses, “Hey, Greg!”

But not anymore.  Her hair is pulled back neatly into a pony tail.  She wears a red plaid shirt instead of an oversized hoodie.  Her now-clear complexion is lightly covered with makeup and her eyes aren’t hidden behind a pair of glasses.

“So what’s up?  How’ve you been, friend?” She asks confidently.

Friend . . . like I was ever her friend.

“Oh, uh, you know,” I shrug, “Just uh, taking care of Aaron . . .” my voice fades and I’m at a loss for words.  There’s nothing left to tell other than that I’ve been through a divorce and have full custody of our son.  Not to mention major financial support from my parents so I have food to put on Aaron’s plate.