The one for Amelia

"It's time to leave now," Mrs. Job beckoned from inside, her voice ringing out from the open door.

Amelia sighed, watching the last remnants of daylight slip away.

She wasn't fond of visiting her Aunt Becca's house.

As Aunt Becca was Pearl's only sister, there was an unspoken expectation that they should be close, but Amelia couldn't shake the discomfort she felt when she was around her.

Aunt Becca, or Aunty Rebecca as her mother always called her, had an undeniable air of eccentricity. She insisted on being in her "prime" - a term that had grown increasingly absurd as the years wore on.

Despite numerous suitors in her youth, she had turned down each one with an aloofness Amelia found hard to understand.

Now, well into her forties, Aunt Becca still lived alone, except for the constant company of her dog and cat-Fluffy, the cat, was particularly pampered and often found draped over her aunt's lap like a living blanket.

Amelia couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have a cousin to confide in, or even someone to talk to other than her parents.

"If only she'd agree to one of these men, I would have a cousin to talk to in this lonely house," Amelia grumbled under her breath, flicking imaginary dust from her dress, though she knew it was pointless. Her mom, Pearl, would never make her sister do anything she didn't want to.

"Coming, Mom!" Amelia called back as Mrs. Job's voice echoed from the house.

The clock on her phone told her it was almost 6 p.m. - they had to leave soon to make it home before dark. Mrs. Job stepped out of the house, her tote bag slung over her shoulder, the familiar weight of it a comforting reminder of their quiet, well-ordered life.

Aunt Becca followed her, carrying a large, fluffy cat that seemed to be overfed and more content in her aunt's arms than Amelia had ever seen an animal.

"Aunt Becca, can't you just let Fluffy walk for once?" Amelia couldn't help muttering under her breath, rolling her eyes as her aunt cradled the cat like a baby.

Mrs. Job gave her a gentle look. "Be nice, Amelia."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Amelia mumbled, not quite feeling the apology. Aunt Becca's insistence on treating the cat like royalty was one of many things Amelia found strange.

Her mom opened the car door, sliding into the front seat and fastening her seatbelt. Amelia followed her, slipping into the back. She wasn't sure why, but being in the backseat made her feel a bit like a child again.

Aunt Becca, always an odd mix of regality and aloofness, followed them to the car, Fluffy still in tow, her movements deliberate and slow.

Amelia sighed as she sank into her seat, her phone in hand, though she wasn't looking at it. She just wanted to get home.

The drive to Aunt Becca's house was always long a solid two-hour trip, and they were already running behind schedule. Amelia hated how long it took, especially since the house was just on the far side of the city.

She stared out the window as the world passed them by, the streets growing darker as evening descended. The city's lights flickered and blurred into one another, but Amelia's mind remained far from it.

"Mummy?" Amelia's voice broke the silence, though she wasn't sure where she was going with the question.

Her mother gave her a quick glance in the rearview mirror, already knowing where the conversation was headed. "Yes, love?"

"Why is Aunt Becca still not married after all these years?" Amelia asked, her voice thick with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Mrs. Job's hands tightened on the steering wheel, but her tone remained calm and measured. "There are things you shouldn't bother yourself with, especially other people's private lives. Your Aunt Becca has her reasons for not being with anyone, and we all need to respect that."

Amelia frowned, the question lingering in her mind. "But... why does she always push people away? She could have anyone she wanted."

Mrs. Job didn't respond immediately. Instead, she focused on the road ahead, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "Everyone has their own path, Amelia. Your aunt's choice is her own, and we need to respect it, even if we don't understand it."

Amelia wasn't sure if she agreed. How could someone willingly choose solitude? She shifted in her seat, still unconvinced. "But can't she adopt? I mean, there are people who adopt when they don't have partners, right? Why doesn't she think about that?"

Mrs. Job sighed, glancing over at Amelia in the mirror once more. "Hush, Amelia. What do you not understand about staying out of other people's business? I know you're curious, but sometimes there are things we're just not meant to understand. Besides, your aunt is entitled to make her own decisions."

Amelia bit her lip, sensing the finality in her mother's tone. She wasn't going to get an answer to her question. But something about Aunt Becca's choice to stay alone, surrounded only by animals and the ghosts of her past, nagged at her.

There was a long pause before Mrs. Job spoke again, this time turning the conversation away from the subject of Aunt Becca. "Tell me, how is your new grade treating you?"

The question was meant to divert Amelia's thoughts, but it didn't work. Amelia, feeling indifferent about the subject, just shot her mom a side glance and returned to her phone, her fingers scrolling idly through messages she didn't care to respond to.

"You don't care, do you?" Mrs. Job said, her voice carrying a touch of concern.

Amelia didn't respond, her eyes locked on her screen, the familiar ache of teenage apathy settling in. She wanted to tell her mom she didn't feel like talking, that she wasn't sure what was wrong with her lately. But she didn't. Instead, she let the silence stretch, her mind drifting.

The car hummed along, the low murmur of the tires against the asphalt the only sound as they passed through the city's outskirts.

As they neared their neighborhood, the skyline of Elms Avenue appeared like a quiet refuge a suburb of average Americans with ordinary lives. A place where the most dramatic thing that might happen on any given day was someone getting a new leather couch from an auction or hastily fixing a kitchen appliance.

The streetlights flickered as they turned into their driveway, and Amelia felt a strange sense of relief wash over her.

There was something comforting about home the familiar layout, the smells of their kitchen, and the soft hum of the television from the living room.

This was her world. The one she understood. The one that didn't require her to question or understand the decisions of others, like her aunt's strange, solitary life.

Amelia stepped out of the car and into the cool evening air, glancing up at their house-a well-kept, quiet home where everything was in its place. It was a life Amelia didn't fully appreciate but could never quite escape.

As her mother and Aunt Becca unloaded from the car, Amelia walked inside, feeling a quiet resolve that maybe one day, she would come to understand what made people like Aunt Becca choose to be alone. For now, though, she could only wonder, and maybe that was enough.