Just For You by Leen Elle Page B

come fast enough.
    Cameron apologized to Imogen outside of Alex's bedroom.
    "She has a bad habit of thinking that everyone is as comfortable with… well. It's like anything else to her. Now you see why I tried to spare you. It only gets worse."
    Imogen pushed her bangs behind her ears. "No need to apologize. You warned me. Besides, I suppose she's right. It's only natural."
    "But it's secret, too."
    "Who ever said it had to be a secret?"
    Cameron cleared his throat, and looked to Alex, who was digging the art piece out from under his bed. "I did."
    * * * *
    Later that evening, Sylvia took Imogen out to the garden, upon request. It smelled fresh and sweet. Grass, trees, and flowers hung heavy with the evening dew. Imogen drew her sweater closer around her and inhaled, smelling the clean jasmine and the wet air. She watched as the world around her darkened into a deep blue and the stars, twinkling and white, showed themselves in the sky.
    Sylvia led her to a large canopy in the middle of the yard, where she set two steaming hot cups of coffee down on a table. Imogen sat and watched Sylvia light the lantern in its center.
    From somewhere in front of her Imogen could hear birds flying around in the gathering darkness, trying to get back to their nests and young ones before night fell. Water splashed in dispersed intervals from the pond as fish leapt up and down.
    Soft light from the lantern played on both of their faces.
    "Thank you for inviting me," Imogen said, lifting the cup of coffee to her mouth and taking a cautious sip. "Your home is absolutely lovely."
    Sylvia smiled, her long fingernails scratching against the side of her own cup. "Thank you. We are lucky for everything we have."
    Silence settled over them and the cool breeze whipped their hair over their shoulders and cheeks.
    "There's a change in him."
    Imogen didn't feel the need to speak. Sylvia's eyes settled on something far off in the darkness.
    "He's… I can't exactly put my finger on it. Nicer? He gives a damn. Did you do that for him?"
    Imogen's breath caught in her throat with the weight of Sylvia's gaze. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "I can't take credit for that. I'm not sure what it is. I haven't known him for very long."
    "Surely you know how dreary he can be."
    Imogen chuckled. "Dreary." She licked her lips. "It wasn't easy, becoming his friend. I really had to try. But I'm glad he let me in. As much as he might not want to hear it, he's a good guy, and, even though I'm sure he'll never in a million years admit this to you, I know he loves you."
    Sylvia smiled. "Today at the dinner table I nearly had a heart attack. Do you know how much it took for me just to get him out here? I thought my mission was accomplished when he finally showed up. I can tell you one thing, I never expected for him to be sociable. I can't remember the last time he asked Bobby and Sarah about the girls, or the last time he tried to take an active interest in anything but himself. But Alex. Those two have always been close."
    Imogen smiled, taking a drink. "I sensed a bond between them. It's sort of unspoken. More felt than anything. Very strong."
    "Yes. You know, everything with Cameron has always been difficult. He's so stubborn and independent. You can't rush him into anything. He has to learn for himself. You can imagine my apprehension when I found out I was pregnant with Alex. Cameron was nine at the time and I thought, 'Oh, Lord, here it goes.' I was sure Cameron was going to exhibit all, if not most, classic signs of sibling rivalry. As soon as I read that pregnancy stick, all the fights, the screaming, and the jealousy played out in my head. But Cameron wasn't at all the way I thought he might be. He welcomed Alex, helped me change his diapers, fed him when George and I were just too tired to even speak. Cameron was the one who taught Alex how to play baseball, the one who urged him to study art in school. There are times where I look back and wonder if I was a