My Everything

glad that Noah wasn’t there. I needed to say some things and didn’t want him to hear me.
    Instead of us packing for our vacation, we were breaking up. I was breaking us up, beating her to the inevitable. I have no doubt she would’ve stayed with me out of obligation, but I couldn’t put her in that position. In the back of my mind, she would’ve cheated and that is the one thing I couldn’t live with. I know her that well to know she was second-guessing us. 
    Once Mason passed away I knew things would change. I fully expected to step-up and help Katelyn with the girls. What I didn’t expect was for Liam to return. I would’ve never thought that he kept tabs on everyone, or even read the paper. What were the chances that he read it the day after Mason was killed?
    I work my neck muscles under the water. I want to stop thinking about my life in Beaumont. I don’t want to know what’s going on there. How Peyton and Elle are doing and whether Katelyn has taken them to see a therapist. They need it, whether she is willing to admit it or not. She needs it too. She spent far too much time consoling Josie than she did dealing with her husband’s death. I chide myself for not sticking around at least for her and the twins.
    I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. There is no need to dry off; the heat will do the job. My clothes selection is limited, but given that I live in a dust bowl and an oven, the fewer clothes the better. Except for the bugs. I could do without the killer mosquitoes and constantly sleeping under a net.
    I dress quickly again in khaki shorts and opt for a black dress shirt. I don’t know why I brought it, it’s not like I have fancy dinners or meetings to attend. The dress attire here is causal and relaxed. No stuffy doctors coats or gaudy nurses uniforms staring at us all day.
    I run down to our reading room and grab the small card table and two folding chairs and take them out back. We have a small deck area, but nothing to sit on. I set up the table and chairs, wishing I had a candle or a vase of flowers to add to the ambiance. This will have to do.
    Aubrey is standing in the kitchen with two plates and two glasses of water in front of her. Her grin is infectious and I can’t help the wide smile that cracks over my own face. My stride is quick as I make my way to where she’s standing and even though she’s in shorts and t-shirt, similar to what she wore today to work, I take in all of her.
    I pick up the plates of food and signal for her to follow me outside. She gasps when we step outside. I know it’s not much and if we were home I could offer her better, but we’re here and I’m trying to make this the best first date either of us are going to have in Africa.
    First date? Did I mean to call what we are doing here tonight a date? Many colleagues meet and have tea or share a dinner. Why classify what we are doing as a date? Is it because deep down this is what I want?
    Setting the plates down, I pull out the chair for her and help her scoot under the table. I watch as she puts the napkin on her lap. I sit across from her and do the same. Everything feels comfortable, like she and I have been doing this for years, yet I know nothing about her.
    “So, Dr. Ashford, how are you liking Africa?” she doesn’t waste any time. I thought we’d eat a bit before we delved into personal talk.
    I rest my arms on the table and look at her so she knows I’m giving her my full attention.
    “Please, call me Nick and I like it here, for the most part. There are things that I miss from home like air conditioning…” I laugh. “I miss other things too, but nothing material. What about you? This has to be different from South Africa.”
    Aubrey sets her spoon down and puts her hands in her lap. “My parents, they wanted the best for me. They may be missionaries and I went to boarding school, but I spent my summers in their camps. They wanted me to experience both worlds and decide for myself what I wanted to do.”
    “And what did you decide?”
    “I haven’t yet. I’m supposed to start college in the fall. I’ve taken a year off to volunteer.”
    The world college catches my attention. I mentally take a step back. I never gave age a consideration. I know I’ve checked out of the conversation. She’s still talking, but I don’t hear a world she’s saying.
     Her fingers snap in front of my face. I have to blink a few times to bring myself back into this