TRAIN [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 20: Simple Things

 Stefan awoke the following Sunday to a text message from Aimee. The Griffiths had invited him to lunch at 12:00. When he arrived at their front door, early and in a white shirt and black jeans, he knocked and waited nervously. He had been to there so many times, but that time was different; he had been invited, by her parents, for lunch. For reasons other than to discuss AIM or GINM, normal reasons. Even though it was probably Aimee's idea to begin with, he could not help but grin at the thought of her parents finally warming up to him.

"I'm coming," he heard Aimee say from inside.

When she opened the door, Stefan stood frozen, mesmerised by the sight of her in a formfitting spring green dress – something that Molly obviously bought her forever ago, something she did not expect to still fit into. The slender straps contoured on her collarbone. And her cast was the perfect accessory.

"You look... wow," he stammered as he struggled to look away. Flushed, Aimee invited him inside, closed the door behind him. "Where is everyone?"

"Moll and Cliff are upstairs," she answered and sauntered to his side. "We were just talking about how weird it was that Buckley's assistants came by this morning."

"Buckley?" he queried, puzzled.

"Yeah, they were looking for Celeste. He didn't say anything to you, did he?"

He shook his head. Stefan had no idea what Buckley would want with her, but he wanted to ignore that. Aimee was his priority and he wanted their afternoon to go uninterrupted. They walked into the dining room – or kitchen, depending on which way you looked at it.

"I should probably call my parents," Aimee expounded.

Stefan agreed, grabbed a chair and waited obediently as she left. He observed the dining table: yellow placemats and white plates, silver cutlery, a glass jug of orange lemonade – orangeade? – and a long porcelain dish of food that he could only smell, since it was lidded with aluminium foil.

Aimee returned with her parents, who were just as dolled up as she was. Molly was wearing a brilliant blue maxi dress and Clifford was in an untucked long-sleeved shirt with a perfectly folded collar, and semi-formal chinos. Molly decided to sit in the chair initially pulled out for Aimee and sent Stefan a smile. It could not get more bizarre. Aimee sat across from him, Cliff next to her, and she prayed, grateful to have Stefan there.

"... Because we all know that if he wasn't, Molly probably wouldn't have made much effort with lunch. Amen."

"Amen," they chorused through bouts of laughter.

It was the best lunch that Molly had ever cooked. Two words: chicken pie. They wolfed down their portion and helped themselves to second servings. By the time they were done, the dish was empty and they were so stuffed that strawberry sundaes for dessert seemed like a bad idea.

Stefan and Aimee willingly cleared the table before excusing themselves from the room. They went out front and kicked a ball across the yard. It was the most normal day Stefan had ever had; the day Aimee's parents invited him over for a family lunch. He never had those growing up because his parents were too busy to sit together at a table and consume a meal big enough for there to be seconds. He could eat in his bed if he wanted to; there was no one around to chastise him for it. His parents worked, and worked, and then they worked some more. And then, in their free time, they ignored each other's existence – his, too, sometimes. But he was happy there with Aimee, passing a ball like an ordinary kid, indulging in the simple things.