She wandered aimlessly, but she didn't seem to see

“I’m surprised,” Nick said, looking in amazement at his stepmother and the assortment of fabrics and materials she had tucked into her shopping cart. “I didn’t think you would actually be into all this crafting stuff, Amelia.”

“There is a lot you don’t know about me,” Amelia replied. Her response was just cryptic enough to leave Nick confused, and curious.

“I-I guess not,” he admitted, nodding. “So you had an arts and crafts hobby growing up or something, then?”

Amelia shook her head. “I would not consider it in that way,” she replied. “It was something I practiced in adulthood. Young adulthood, perhaps.”

That just raised more questions. But Nick was hesitant to ask. His stepmother’s life, before she entered his, was a mystery, and he had always been too polite to pry. But he couldn’t help the burning curiosity in his chest.

“Is it… so it’s from before you married my dad?” He asked hesitantly.

Amelia nodded. “That is correct,” she confirmed. “Before meeting your father, I- …Never mind.” She shook her head, and Nick saw a shadow cloud over her face.

He frowned worriedly. That wasn’t the kind of reaction he was expecting from her.

“Amelia…” Nick approached his stepmother cautiously. “If it’s something that’s too hard for you to talk about-”

“It is not,” Amelia curtly interrupted him with a shake of her head. She gave him a sharp look. Then her expression softened. “…Apologies. That was… rude of me. To interrupt you.”

The stilted way she talked showed Nick just how shaken she was.

What’s the matter? He thought worriedly. It isn’t like Amelia to react like this. Is it really something that serious?

He bit his lip, trying not to let his concern show on his face. But he couldn’t help that he WAS worried about his stepmother. He knew Amelia was a private person, but something about her response to this felt different.

Like there was a deeper weight behind her sensitivity and her refusal to open up to him. It was strange to think that way, but it was how he felt.

“Amelia…” Nick decided that if this was really that important, he shouldn’t run from it. He needed to have an honest conversation with his stepmother; it was what they both deserved. So he approached her directly, earning a look of surprise from her.

“Yes?” Amelia asked him, raising her eyebrow.

“Is this something… you can talk about?” He asked, not knowing what sort of answer he would get but **** to know the truth. “I understand if it isn’t, but… I feel like I don’t know the first thing about you sometimes,” Nick confessed. “You’re an amazing woman, really, you are, but… whenever we talk about important stuff, it’s always about me. I don’t know the first thing about you! I know you’re a private person, but…”

“Nicholas…” Amelia’s voice cracked in a way that caught Nick by surprise. Suddenly the tall shelves of fabric filling the craft store seemed tight and imposing, like they were closing in on him, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He felt the ways he stared at him, and it was overwhelming.

The weight behind his stepmother’s gaze made him feel like a little kid again.

Amelia stepped around her cart and approached him, and the closer she got, the better a look he got of her eyes. He could see the way they were watering.

She blinked away her tears and shook her head. “The truth is… it is part of my duty as a parent,” she explained.

Or at least, she thought of it as an explanation. For Nick, it felt much less like one, and he didn’t really know how to respond. He just stared at her waiting for more.

It took Amelia a second to realize that maybe she should give him more. “…Apologies,” she said tersely, shaking her head. “That wasn’t a thorough enough explanation, was it?”

Nick stammered out an awkward response and shook his head.

Amelia let out a tired sigh. “The truth of the matter…” She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “As your stepmother… it is my job to take care of you,” she explained. “When you have a problem, it is my responsibility to help you. So if you wish to know why we are always discussing your problems… that is why.”

Nick could understand that reasoning, but he wasn’t sure he agreed with it. Because if Amelia was always looking out for his problems…

“Then what about you?” He asked, frowning. “If you’re looking out for me, then who’s looking out for you?”

Amelia pinched her lips together into a tight smile. The look in her eye shifted to a more wounded gaze, as she shook her head.

“That is not something you need to concern yourself with, Nicholas,” she replied.

Well, he didn’t accept that, not for one second.

“No!” Nick protested, shaking his head. “Amelia, you’re always helping me. And I get it, it’s because you’re my stepmother, but-”

“I am your stepmother and I love you,” Amelia interrupted him again.

The statement was so matter-of-fact Nick found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He stared at Amelia for a minute and then nodded dumbly. “Right, uh… r-right,” he stammered. “…And you love me. W-well… I love you, too!” He pointed out, his face growing hot. “So obviously I would be concerned for you and want to help, Amelia!”

Amelia nodded slowly, a faint smile touching her lips. “Yes, obviously…” she echoed.

“So… I want to help,” Nick finished lamely. “If there’s something bothering you, then you can count on me… alright?” The desperation in his voice made it crack, but he didn’t care. It was obvious Amelia was putting her own needs aside to focus on his. But what about her needs? Wasn’t that the point of today, huh?

“We’re on a date, right?” Nick pointed out. “Well, when you’re dating someone, you can’t just be thinking about yourself! Is that really the kind of message you want me to pick up, as my stepmother, Amelia? That when I’m on a date it’s okay to take the needs of the other party for granted and not think about what they might want? Because that doesn’t sound like the recipe for a very successful date to me!”

Amelia stared dumbly at him, not sure how to respond to that for a second. “…I suppose not,” she conceded. The fact that this wasn’t in fact a genuine date did not occur to Amelia, because that information was not relevant. Nick’s position was valid regardless. “I am sorry for not taking your feelings into consideration,” she apologized. “Or my own, in this case.”

Nick was glad to hear a genuine apology from her, even if he didn’t think she actually needed to apologize. If anything, he felt like HE was the one at fault here.

But Amelia’s “apology” was, at the very least, a demonstration on her part that she was seriously thinking about what he said. And if he could use this moment as leverage to get her to start thinking critically about her own feelings, that was for the best.

At least, that’s how Nick saw it, anyway.

“Amelia, I really care about you,” Nick said sincerely, extending his hand out to her. “If this craft stuff is really that important to you, or if there’s anything you want to talk about, then I’d like to discuss it with you. You don’t need to just think about me, you know. You also should think about yourself sometimes, too.”

Sometimes Nick forgot, but his stepmother was only ten years older than him. She’d married his dad and come into his life at a very young age, barely an adult herself. Nick had never thought about it that much, but how many things in her own life had Amelia sacrificed to make space for him and his needs as her stepson?

Already that was a bigger obligation than most women her age ever would have made. And then, when his father died, she stepped up and raised him as best she could, even though she was still in her twenties herself.

That was an incredible act on her part. Nick would never be able to repay her enough for how much of a mother she was to him.

When she never had to be.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. The words just slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t help himself- he was so overwhelmed by his gratitude for everything that Amelia had done for him over the years, that he needed her to know how much it meant for him.

And so, he just said it. Without even thinking. And as he looked into her eyes, he hoped that she could feel just how deeply his emotions ran.

Amelia’s eyes widened for a moment before her cool expression returned to her face.

“…Thank you,” she said, doing her best to make sure Nick could not see just how touched she was by his words. She pinched her lips together tightly and looked him in the eye. “It means a lot to me that you feel that way, Nicholas.”

She didn’t say it aloud, because she didn’t think she had to. It was obvious, surely? That she felt the same way?

Surely he knew that she loved him as well.

“…I am not finished yet,” she said abruptly, surprising him and breaking the awkward silence hanging in the air. She indicated to her cart with a nod. “I still have more shopping to complete,” she explained to him.

“Right, uh, yeah,” Nick said, nodding. He didn’t really have anything he wanted to buy at the craft store himself, so he felt kind of stuck. He considered following along with her, but he could sense that Amelia wanted some time to herself right now.

To his chagrin, as they parted ways, he realized that she’d never opened up to him the way he wanted to. Instead of talking about herself, she’d once again redirected the conversation back to him, even if she had related it to her own feelings.

Surely Amelia had more in her life than just her role as his stepmother, didn’t she? That was all Nick wanted for her. To have the chance to be a woman.

She wasn’t even 40 and he was already a grown man. She deserved to live her own life, not just be tied to him.

But how could he get her to accept that?

Nick looked over his shoulder, getting a final glimpse of Amelia’s back as she turned around the corner and disappeared down the aisle.

He sighed and shook his head. Next time, he convinced himself.

What Nick didn’t see (because Amelia was quite good at hiding her feelings when she wanted to) was that Amelia’s face was flushed. Thankfully she was able to hold in her emotions until they parted, but through that entire conversation she had been trying desperately to stop the pounding of her heart from giving away how she felt.

It was difficult, more difficult than she imagined. But she’d been able to manage it, just barely.

Letting out the breath she was holding, Amelia removed her glasses and wiped them down. She knew that it was wrong to run away from her conversation with her stepson like that, especially when he was being so earnest. It wasn’t the sort of thing a mature woman should be doing.

But she’d been overwhelmed by her emotions, and if she was being honest with herself… she had been frightened.

As his stepmother, Amelia had very little experience opening up to Nicholas about herself as a person. She had put that part of herself away in a little box for so many years while she gave her boy what she thought he needed. And now he was growing up and having children himself.

And what did that make her, now, then?

She honestly wasn’t sure she knew.

Another sigh passed her lips as she slowly raised her glasses back up to her face. But right before she slipped them on, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Blinking, she aligned her glasses and looked around, but the store was still.

“…Strange,” she murmured, wondering if it was one of the faeries. Or Nola, from this morning. It was unlikely that another contestant would be here and not make her presence known, even Augmented Synthetic Humanoid Assassin.

Then the thought occurred to her that this could be Dakota. The woman was likely holding quite a grudge from their recent confrontations.

…On the other hand, she could just be paranoid.

Amelia took another look around. This section of the store was not where she had intended to go. She was looking for sewing supplies, particularly materials to make stuffing. Right now, she was in a section of the store that seemed to be dedicated to dolls.

If Amelia was the sort of woman who was bothered by scary movies, she might have been worried. But she saw absolutely nothing unnerving about the rows and rows of porcelain dolls lining the shelves. Though she did wonder what they were doing in a craft store.

Maybe this place offered more services than just providing materials? That was a possibility she hadn’t considered.

Movement again! Out of the corner of her eye. Amelia swung her head around and spotted a mirror. It was taller than she was, and reflected the entire aisle back to her across its wide surface. Blinking, Amelia adjusted her glasses and took a closer look.

There it was again. A flutter of movement just on the edge of the mirror. There really was someone behind her!

She turned around to see who it was, but she saw nothing.

Strange indeed… what was that? Amelia wondered if she was just incredibly tired. So tired that she was seeing ghosts-

“Ooooooohhh?”

“AH-!”

Amelia was not scared. That needed to be made clear. Amelia did not get scared. She was a grown woman. A rational woman. She did not watch scary movies because she thought they were juvenile, not because they frightened her.

She was startled, yes, that was an accurate description of the emotional surge that shot through her body like electricity when someone spoke up from behind her.

But she was not scared.

Whirling around, Amelia saw…

…Nothing.

No one had spoken up. No one had said anything. At least no one that she could see. The aisle was still as could be.

But something was out of place. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She looked around, wondering what it was her instincts were trying to tell her that her eyes couldn’t see.

Then she glanced down and saw it.

One of the dolls had fallen off the shelf. It was a familiar doll. Not one of the decorative porcelain ones. This was more of a children’s toy. Made of fabric and plush, like a stuffed animal, but a young girl with blonde hair and blue little marble eyes, smiling back at Amelia through the packaging.

A thin, ironic smile touched Amelia’s lips. She read the label on the packaging, “LITTLE LYNETTE” as she put the doll back on the shelf. It was a toy designed for little girls, one of those “practice being a mommy” dolls that had been all the rage back in the day.

Isn’t that a coincidence? She thought as she checked to make sure it was perfectly aligned with the others. They still make those?

It had been quite a long time since she last saw a child’s doll. When was the last time?

…It would have been around when she became Nick’s stepmother, she realized. Back when she still had dreams of bearing a child of her own.

“I wonder what it would have been like?” She mused, running her fingers along the package and looking at the empty eyes of the doll as it stared back at her. “To have a daughter…”

Of course, one could argue that Amelia had multiple daughters now, thanks to her stepson’s prolific affections. But as much as her heart felt that connection, she knew that it wasn’t quite the same as giving birth to her own child.

Then, as soon as that thought occurred to her, she became overwhelmed by guilt.

What are you thinking? She demanded of herself, feeling like the worst woman in the world. To think that way, it is as if you don’t think of Nicholas as your own son, either!

Amelia could not allow that to be true. Nicholas is my son.

She could not allow that to not be the case.

Amelia was a mother. She had a son who she loved. There were other women in her life that she saw as her daughters, and she loved them as well. She had no regrets about how her life had turned out. She could not have them.

Because if she did… then that would mean that she was the worst mother in the world.

Wanting to give birth to a child herself would make every horrible thought she had about herself true, just like that. It would be like admitting that her love for Nicholas and his paramours wasn’t enough to satisfy her.

Amelia closed her eyes and remembered the look of desperation on her stepson’s face as he tried to talk with her. He had been trying to get her to open up, to share a connection with his stepmother, who he loved.

And how had she responded to that?

By rebuffing him. By running away.

She wanted to connect with him just as badly.

But how could she, when she couldn’t even look at him without feeling such overwhelming guilt and shame?

I’m happy for you, Nicholas, truly, I am, she thought as she looked down at the assortment of materials in her shopping cart. Materials for making dolls and clothes for the children her stepson would be having with the women in her life. I just wish… but no.

Yes, it had been quite some time since Amelia had last worked on her crafts. Not since she was a young girl, and her dreams of being a mother had been **** to take a different path. She wished things could be different.

But… this was enough. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t having a stepson who loved her, who she treasured, along with the women he loved… wasn’t that enough to fill this hole in her breast?

Could she be so selfish and vain to want more than that? Even knowing how much of a betrayal of her stepson’s feelings it was?

Amelia felt like a horrible mother. Who was she to talk down to Dakota like she had?