Amber half-heard Eric's comment about his last visit home. Another time she might've jumped on that, discreetly turning him to talk his mom without getting all upset and shut-up the way he usually did. His past was one of the most depressing things Amber could imagine, but her curiosity couldn't resist wanting to know more. As it was, though, Amber was traveling through her own time-machine, years melting away as she passed by the Richardson's-- she'd babysat the youngest boy a few times, he must be over twenty by now-- and the corner where she'd accidentally fallen off her bike.
Eric's beard scratched against her chin, as it always did when they kissed, a strange newer familiarity in a sea of years-old memories. His eyes shone in that moment before he closed his lids, intense and loving-- just like the feeling in his kiss. Amber held on to that. And then it was over, fading away even as he touched his lips to her fingers. "Oh no you don't," Amber said. That could be the topic for a whole day, how she'd walked in alone and let her 'boy' carry her things. "You're coming in with me. C'mon."
She'd barely gotten to her feet and shut the door close when more lights lit up on the front porch of her house and her mom came out. "I knew I heard something," she said, a note of smugness in her voice.
Amber crossed her arms, stuck for a moment. “Hi, mom.”
Her mom looked as proper as ever, dressed in season-appropriate brown and beige. "Geoffrey, Chris! She called over her shoulder. "Amber and-- Eric are here, come help them carry their things."
It took them a moment to appear; they’d probably been in the living room talking. “Whaddya know,” Geoffrey said in the amiable, everyone-loves-me way he had, easily tramping down the porch steps. “I thought it’d take you another hour, with the traffic. I heard on the news it’s awful.”
Geoffrey’s rapid approach got Amber moving again, springing to open up her trunk and grab as many of her bags before he could arrive. “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she said.
Her father wasn’t quite as nimble, but his steady gait was steady and relaxed. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, smiling, reaching out for a hug. Amber hated to give up her plan of getting all her bags before Geoffrey could, but what else could she do? She wrapped her arms around her dad’s large and heavy frame, hugging him longer and harder than she’d meant to. “Welcome home.”
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Eric's beard scratched against her chin, as it always did when they kissed, a strange newer familiarity in a sea of years-old memories. His eyes shone in that moment before he closed his lids, intense and loving-- just like the feeling in his kiss. Amber held on to that. And then it was over, fading away even as he touched his lips to her fingers. "Oh no you don't," Amber said. That could be the topic for a whole day, how she'd walked in alone and let her 'boy' carry her things. "You're coming in with me. C'mon."
She'd barely gotten to her feet and shut the door close when more lights lit up on the front porch of her house and her mom came out. "I knew I heard something," she said, a note of smugness in her voice.
Amber crossed her arms, stuck for a moment. “Hi, mom.”
Her mom looked as proper as ever, dressed in season-appropriate brown and beige. "Geoffrey, Chris! She called over her shoulder. "Amber and-- Eric are here, come help them carry their things."
It took them a moment to appear; they’d probably been in the living room talking. “Whaddya know,” Geoffrey said in the amiable, everyone-loves-me way he had, easily tramping down the porch steps. “I thought it’d take you another hour, with the traffic. I heard on the news it’s awful.”
Geoffrey’s rapid approach got Amber moving again, springing to open up her trunk and grab as many of her bags before he could arrive. “Yeah, it was pretty bad,” she said.
Her father wasn’t quite as nimble, but his steady gait was steady and relaxed. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, smiling, reaching out for a hug. Amber hated to give up her plan of getting all her bags before Geoffrey could, but what else could she do? She wrapped her arms around her dad’s large and heavy frame, hugging him longer and harder than she’d meant to. “Welcome home.”