Joy's POV
I carried my brother in sneaked him past my parents into his room. I gave him some water and laid him down to sleep. I went to my room afterwards and the thought of Aaron running away pushed me to go to his house and fix this annoying mess
I went rang his door bell and after minutes Aaron answered the door.
"Can we talk?" I asked
" Sure" He replied
" I know it's been awkward the past few days because of that night" I said
" Yea" he replied
" Well I thought if we talked about it could be better " I suggested.
He agreed with me and we talked about it while circling the neighborhood. We departed later and I went home happy we where friends but sad we couldn't be more. I layer down and watched movies until I slept.
The next morning was a Saturday and I was woken up by the exhaust of a truck. I never really noticed but the house between Aaron and mine was renovated and a new family was moving in.
My parents went ahead and welcomed them to the neighborhood and invited them over for dinner. I looked out the window to see if they had any children. I looked outside and saw Aaron talking and smiling then with a girl around my age . pretty with freckles, cream coloured hair deep brown eyes.
From afar you would know she was youthful from the way she interacted with Aaron. Mum came upstairs and told me to pick out my best clothes because we were going to have dinner with them.
I watched movies and watched them move in all day and finally came the time for dinner.
The dining room was dim, lit only by the amber flicker of six candles. Their wax dripped slowly, like time stretching between courses. On the table, a roast chicken rested on a worn ceramic platter, its skin crackled and bronzed, glistening with rosemary-infused oil. Steam curled from a bowl of buttery mashed potatoes, heavy with cream, beside green beans sautéed in garlic and lemon.
My mum poured the wine—red, bold, slightly too warm—and passed the glass to our guest with a faint, unreadable smile. The clink of silverware against china was the only sound, until Gold's dad finally spoke, complimenting the meal with rehearsed politeness.
We are in silence until my mom asked about their old neighborhood. They said they came from Willow Lane. Gold's dad describe it as:
"Willow Lane was a narrow, tree-lined street where every house had a porch swing, and the mailman knew everyone's dog by name."
"This roast is incredible, ," Gold's mom(Rachel) said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "I haven't had a home-cooked meal since the move."
"Thank you," Mary ( Joys mom) smiled. "It's my mother's recipe. She believed any problem could be solved over a good roast."
Tom(Gold's dad)raised his glass. "Except taxes. Not even roast beef can fix those."
The table chuckled politely. Gold leaned back in her chair. "So—do is Gold in high school?"
"Yes," Tom said. "Our daughter, Gold, is a Junior. She's into theater.. Always has earbuds in. We're not sure she remembers what we look like."
Mary laughed. "Sounds familiar. Our daughter Joy is sixteen. Joy's obsessed with journalism, and Jaden is either going to be an engineer or accidentally blow up the garage. Possibly both."
Rachel smiled. "They'll all probably end up friends. This street tends to pull people together or so I have heard."
"That's good to hear," Gold said. "We were worried the neighborhood might be...quiet to the point of unfriendly."
. "Oh no. It's quiet, but it's tight-knit. Block parties in the summer, holiday cookie exchanges, the occasional passive-aggressive note about recycling bins."
Mary shot him a look. "Which reminds me — ignore Susan next door if she comments on your lawn. She means well. Sort of."
Rachel grinned. "Noted. We're still learning the rules of suburban diplomacy."
"You'll do fine," Mary said warmly. "You already brought wine. That's step one."
They left afterwards.