The Search for Lily Myers ✓

24 | The Calm Before the Storm, Pt. II

Outside, it was almost completely dark now, the black expanse pierced by the flames that shot up from the fire pit. A breeze had picked up, the sound of it like a ghostly song as it creaked and shuddered through the mostly barren tree branches. It appeared to be working in their favor for the moment—the fire definitely wasn't on the verge of sputtering out—but if it picked up much more strength it might start having the opposite effect.

The backyard, bigger than she had expected it to be, wasn't fenced in. The ground stayed flat in a modest-sized area behind the house before beginning to gently slope down towards what appeared to be a small lake in the near distance, though it was hard to tell precisely in the dark. She could see the lights from other houses on the opposite bank, suggesting that the neighborhood was possibly designed to wrap around the lake.

Henry's parents had already situated four garden chairs around the firepit and brought out the cookies and marshmallows and paper plates. Amelia, who had nearly started shivering once they stepped outside despite being bundled up in the sweatshirt, felt the warmth return to her cheeks as they neared the fire. Though she didn't inherently mind the cold—she'd definitely take it any day over the mosquitoes that would be plaguing them if they were doing this in the summertime—it wouldn't have been much fun to be uncomfortable enough that it was distracting her from enjoying anything else, either.

Robert passed them each a marshmallow skewer; Henry glanced over at Amelia. "Ladies first?"

She wasn't going to say no to first dibs and Jen apparently wasn't going to either; they each grabbed a marshmallow out of the bag and situated themselves in their chairs. Amelia scooted hers slightly closer to the fire and carefully hovered her marshmallow near the edge of the flames.

It transported her back to the camping trips she'd taken with her family when she was a little kid, back when her parents were still together. Her skin sticky with bug spray, her wavering hands usually prodding her marshmallow a little too far into the fire and charring it. Dad would laugh, scrape the burnt outer layer off for her and tell her to try again. Mom always had her wet wipes at the ready to clean the chocolate off of all their faces when they were done. Amelia always slept surprisingly well in the tent, curling up between her parents in her little sleeping bag and feeling utterly safe there.

She missed making those types of memories with her family, and she was almost envious of Henry for still being able to, for his family still being knit together. Except it wasn't, not really, not with Lily's absence like a fifth presence sitting there around the fire with them.

And besides, Amelia was grateful that his parents seemed to have welcomed her in without any hesitation. The last time she'd met them, she hadn't been Henry's girlfriend yet, so she hadn't been certain if she needed to show up today braced for a deluge of questions about herself. Needing to prove herself, her worthiness. It would have been a natural impulse, after all, for them to want to know everything there was to know about the girl their son was now dating.

But she didn't feel like an outsider, an other. They didn't interrogate her while her mouth was stuffed with marshmallows and cookies.

"So, Amelia," Jen said only once neither of them had any food in their mouths, leaning forward curiously. "Henry might have mentioned that you got to live by the beach for a couple of years. I'm a bit jealous."

Amelia nodded. "It's not so glamorous when it's miserably hot all the time, but it was a good place to be for a couple of years. And I think it was healthy for me to go off on my own for a little while since I stayed close to home for college. I'm glad to be back, though—I never really saw Tampa as a long-term thing."

Jen nodded. "We thought it was good for Henry to see someplace new, too—although it was a little bit of a shocker when he wanted that somewhere to be two-thousand miles away."