The school year passed both quickly and slowly all at the same time. Aria was painfully reminded of the fact that she could no longer go next door for an after-school snack or a visit with Grandpa Springer. But that pain, over the course of several months slowly turned to pleasure as she realized that she could go and bother Ezra when she wanted. Her parents seemed not to mind, and Mike was too busy with the drama and coolness of sixth grade to worry about his older sister.

Aria spent the warmer months, August and September, reading and writing and in the tree house. It was old and somewhat rickety, but it felt safe and comfortable. Sometimes Spencer would go up there with her or Hanna or Emily. They were all very close, but it seemed that as they grew, they grew more apart. Spencer was involved in student government and field hockey while Emily became more involved in the swim team and Hanna spent her free time shopping with her mother. More often than not, Aria read in the tree house alone, and she learned to find comfort, rather than pain, in her solitude.

The colder months, October and November, Aria spent curled up on her spot in the living room, doing her homework or reading a book. It was much quieter at Ezra's house than her own, and she liked to sit next to the warmth of the fire he always seemed to have going. When she stayed inside the house, Aria and Ezra often began talking. Sometimes their conversations would be about the weather and the colors of the changing leaves or the chill in the air. Often they talked about the latest book Aria was reading, and Ezra would add his insights and suggestions, clues as to what she should look for as a careful reader. Always they ended up talking about this and that, their days and what they would spend their weekends doing. Aria even heard Ezra laugh.

"That was nice," said Aria tentatively the first time she heard him.

Ezra's smile turned into a thin line as he asked carefully, "What was?"

"Your laugh, I've never heard you laugh before."

"You haven't?" asked Ezra wonderingly.

"Never," said Aria with a small smile. "I think you've been too sad lately."

Ezra frowned at this statement. "Maybe," he considered carefully.

"But you're happier now," continued Aria without skipping a beat. "I think you really like here in Rosewood."

"I like it much better than California," said Ezra, distaste in his voice.

"You never talk about California," replied Aria. "Will you tell me about it? I've always wanted to go there."

Haltingly, Ezra began to tell her about Southern California and the house he had grown up in. There were no autumn leaves and no snow. It was warm all year round, and the people were different, less friendly than they were in Rosewood.

Aria was lulled into his story, closing her book to hear him speak. She listened carefully and pictured the scene in her head. But even as Ezra talked about Hollywood Boulevard and Beverly Hills, she heard that he didn't say one thing about his family. And she began to wonder to wonder to herself about the life he had left behind and the people he was trying to forget.

As October became November and the weeks of November rolled into Thanksgiving, Aria was surprised by how much she was looking forward to their traditional family meal. Her excitement surprised Ella. Thanksgiving had always been a special holiday for the Springers. Mrs. Springer would make an extra turkey for Mr. Springer the day after Thanksgiving, and Aria and the Montgomerys would be invited to partake in that extra holiday meal. Byron suspected that Aria's anticipation with this holiday season had to do with Ezra. He had become close to their family in the few short months he had lived in Rosewood. He had even started to come to weekly dinners at their house. Byron wondered about Ezra. He had made Aria happy, and even Mike perked up around him. But even Byron really didn't know what made a twenty-two year-old boy stay at home all the time, with the exception of work, never going out and never being with people his own age.

Pleased at the prospect of Thanksgiving that year, Aria was surprised when she heard that Ezra wasn't coming to Thanksgiving dinner, that he wouldn't be at home during the Thanksgiving holiday at all. He informed Ella a week before school was out that he was going to California to visit his dad. He politely asked if she and Byron would watch his house for him while he was away.

Mike was disappointed that Ezra wouldn't be there on Thanksgiving Thursday to watch the football game with him. Aria was upset that he hadn't said good-bye. He had left a book for Ella to give to Aria. Aria stared at the cover hostilely, willing it would disappear and make Ezra reappear. She ignored the book on her nightstand almost the entire break, instead journaling and looking outside her bedroom window. The Sunday night before Ezra returned from his trip, out of guilt, and somewhat out of anger, Aria finally picked up the book and began to read. It was Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. Soon absorbed in the story, she forgot about her own worries and thought about the misfortunes of some and the blessings of others.

Aria ignored Ezra for the next week. She spent her after-school time shopping with Hanna or working out with Emily. Spencer, not Ezra, helped her with her homework. Her parents didn't comment on her change of habits. Mike, however, did grab some of her newly-purchased bras that Hanna had made her buy, and walked around the house wearing them. The incident turned into a sibling argument that their parents had to mediate and punish them for. It was for that reason that Aria found herself shoveling snow from her driveway on the first day of December instead of out sledding with her friends.

She was so angry at Mike and so absorbed in her work that she didn't hear the crunching of ice and snow underneath booted feet until it was right next to her. Looking up, she saw Ezra with a concerned look on his face.

"Are mad at me, Aria?" he asked without pretense. "You haven't seen me since I got back."

"No," she answered shortly as she continued to shovel snow.

"Are you sure?" he persisted. "You haven't even come over to talk about the book I lent you."

"What's there to talk about?" asked Aria coldly, not looking at him.

"Okay, now I know you're mad at me. What is it?" questioned Ezra. "Is it that I went to California for Thanksgiving? Did you not like The Grapes of Wrath? I know you weren't looking forward to my Thanksgiving cooking, so what is it?"

Aria shoveled several big scoops of snow before turning to him. "You didn't say good-bye," she answered tersely.

"I'm sorry," answered Ezra quietly. "I didn't realize how much that would upset you."

Aria stopped shoveling and carefully looked at him in the eyes, he did seem truly regretful. "Promise me you won't do it again," she demanded.

"I promise," swore Ezra solemnly.

At the same moment, Ezra was making this last statement a snowball grazed his ear, and Aria yelled, "Mike!" Another snowball came her way, and the pair heard laughing from the other side of the house.

Aria gestured to Ezra, putting her finger over her lips to silence any exclamation of surprise or warning and carefully made a snowball. After catching a glimpse of a blue jacket she aimed and was rewarded with a pronounced "Oww," from Mike.

Before the threesome realized it, they were involved in a snowball fight, pitted one against the other, their chore forgotten.

Byron and Ella watched from the window as their played with each other and involved Ezra in their games. It brought up memories of when Mike and Aria were younger.

"Ezra's good for them," commented Ella, leaning into her husband.

Byron hugged her closer into his chest. "I guess so, but sometimes I wonder about him."

"What do you mean?" asked Ella, concern tingeing her voice. "Do you think he's not who he says he is or something?"

"I think he is who he says he is, but sometimes he seems like a lost boy, like someone who doesn't know where he's going or where he's been."

"Did you know where you were going when you were twenty-two?" said Ella pointedly.

"No, but…"

"Exactly," interjected Ella. "He's like Aria and Mike; he needs some time to grow up too."

The couple stood there a few moments in quiet contemplation before Ella called Aria, Mike, and Ezra in to warm up. She offered them hot chocolate, and noticed that all was well between Aria and Ezra again.

The last few weeks of the school semester passed by quickly. Afternoons were spent playing in the snow and sledding, either with Mike or her friends. Spencer helped her friends prepare for their final exams, and Emily and Aria found themselves stuck in the library during their lunch break, working on their essay for their English class.

"I have no idea what to write about," exclaimed Emily, ripping her paper in frustration.

Aria sighed glumly. "I'm stuck, too." She eyed Spencer who was writing furiously a few seats down from their table. "Do you want to ask her for help?"

"Not really," replied Emily. She looked a bit frightened at the prospect.

"Me neither," breathed Aria. She sat thoughtfully a moment before continuing. "Do you want to come over to my house after school? Maybe Ezra would help us."

"Do you really think he would?"

"I'm pretty sure," answered Aria confidently. "Especially if we bribe him with some of Mom's cookies."

That afternoon, the girls took some cookies from the cookie jar and took the plate and their backpacks over to Ezra's. He seemed surprised to see them on his doorstep, and Aria realized he must have just gotten home from work; he was still wearing a tie.

"Can you help us with our English essays?" asked Aria hopefully. "We need help, and we would rather come to you instead of Spencer the grammar Nazi. We brought you cookies," she added presented him with the plate.

"Please, Mr. Fitz," pleaded Emily miserably. "They're due tomorrow."

He nodded. "Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. And I will take these," he said grabbing the cookie plate from Aria.

The girls took off their coats and sat down on the sofa while he took the cookies to the kitchen, munching on one while he quickly made his way upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing.

"This is where the Springers use to live?" asked Emily.

"Yup," answered Aria quietly.

"It doesn't seem like he's changed anything."

"He hasn't."

"I wonder why," finished Emily softly. Just as she finished that thought, Ezra came down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.

"So what's the problem?"

"We don't know what to write," wailed Aria. "We've tried and we just don't know."

"Well," began Ezra, "What's the topic?"

"We're supposed to write about a time that empowered us to do something special with our lives," said Emily. She fell back into the sofa. "I'm not even sure what that means."

"What about you Aria, how do you feel about it?" he asked.

"Honestly," she answered. "I have no idea what I should do."

"Okay. Well, let's start with Aria. Do you have your journal with you?"

"Yes," she answered, pulling it out of her backpack.

"I want you to read through it, and see if it brings up any kind of memory or if there is entry that inspires you to write about something specific." Aria nodded and did as she was told, intently focused on reading her journal.

"Now, Emily. Can you make a list of people who inspire you, people you think can do anything?" She nodded and did as she was told.

After several moments, Ezra checked up on Aria. "Have you found a journal entry yet?"

She nodded. "August 17, 2007."

"Do you think you can start you're essay now?"

"Yeah, I think so," answered Aria.

"Okay," responded Ezra. "Why don't you work on it in the kitchen while I help Emily?"

Aria nodded her consent and went off to do as Ezra had suggested. She sat in the kitchen table for over an hour, well-absorbed in her work. She forgot the time, until Ezra came to check on her.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Good," she answered. "I'm almost done with my work."

"So is Emily," he responded. "Can I read it?"

"I'm not Steinbeck," mumbled Aria, handing it over to him, "but I think its okay."

"I'm sure it's fine," smiled Ezra. He took the sheet of paper and read it over, and then read it over again. Aria's heart fell when she's saw Ezra's smile drop.

"Is it that bad?" she asked, biting her lip in worry.

Ezra shook his head. "Not at all. I think it's very good. You write better than most people my age." He handed her essay back to her.

"Thank you," said Aria sincerely. "That means a lot to me. How's Emily doing?"

"She's just about done, too. She decided to write about the first time her dad went to Afghanistan, right after 9/11."

The girls left half-an hour later, their essays completed. As Aria walked down to her house, she thought about how she had never seen Ezra in teacher-mode before, and she wondered what it would be like to have him in class. A week later, both Aria and Emily had to face the wrath of Spencer, who received an A minus on her essay while both Aria and Emily received As.

Not long after the essay incident, school let out for the Christmas holidays, and just like during the summer months, the Montgomery family spent all their days and evenings together. Occasionally, Mike would go to the gym and play basketball with his friends. Aria found herself at Hanna's more often than not. Both Ella and Byron took their vacation as time when they could both put their feet up, literally. Ezra sat in his house and worked on something, although what for sure, Aria couldn't say.

Christmas 2007, was a white Christmas. Aria opened the curtain in her bedroom window and saw that fresh snow had fallen the night before. She saw that the light was on in Ezra's kitchen, and wondered what it was he did by himself on Christmas morning. Before she realized it, she was persistently being pulled down to the living room by Mike, who was eager to open up his Christmas presents.

Aria got several things that Christmas, the most memorable being her first cell phone. It was a black flip phone and she was really excited about the unexpected gift. She hugged her parents out of sheer delight. After the initial glee of Christmas morning wore off, Aria showered and dressed before helping her mother cook up a Christmas feast for that afternoon. There was gingerbread and apple pie, stuffing, turkey, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, green beans, corn, and more vegetables than Aria could count.

She was busy putting the biscuits in the oven to realize that Ezra had joined them for Christmas dinner. He found her setting the table, fussing over the table cloths and good china.

"Merry Christmas, Aria," he greeted her.

"Oh," started Aria, startled. "I didn't see you. Merry Christmas, Ezra." She warmly gave him a big hug.

He hugged her back warmly before giving her a small package. "You're Christmas gift," he presented it with a flourish.

Aria giggled and opened the small box. "Ezra," she breathed. "I don't know what to say." Her voice shook with emotion.

"You have something to remember Grandpa by. I thought you should have something to remember Grandma, too."

"But its real diamonds," protested Aria. "Grandpa gave it to her for their fiftieth wedding anniversary."

"I think she would have wanted you to have it," responded Ezra. "Here, let me put it on you." He took the delicate necklace out of the box, and Aria carefully turned that so her back was to him, pulling her long hair out of the way so he could see the clasp. When he was done, she fingered the pendant on the chain, a diamond angel.

"Grandma always said there were angels watching over us," said Aria. "I like to think she's one of those angels now."

"Me, too," answered Ezra. Aria noticed that he, much like her, was close to an emotional breakdown. They were saved by Ella's entrance into the dining room with the turkey, and soon she was followed by Byron and Mike, who let the aroma of the newly cooked food guide them to the table. It was one of the best Christmases Aria had ever had, and one she would remember for a very long time.

August 17, 2007.

I used to think I would never be okay with anyone other than Grandma and Grandpa living next door. It was their house, and not anybody else's. I always thought that's where they belonged, Grandma baking up a storm in the kitchen and Grandpa in his easy chair, reading a book or writing in his journal. Their death, that horrible accident was the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with in my life. It's the kind of thing someone doesn't really recover from.

But then Ezra moved into their house. Grandma used to say that angels were watching over us, and I think that she's one of those angels now. I think she sent Ezra to me and to my family, to heal wounds I didn't even know were bleeding. With Ezra, I don't feel like I have to worry about good-byes. With him, I only have to think about different ways to say hello. He's so nice to me. I think he's the older brother I never had.

Grandma and Grandpa died so suddenly and so unexpectedly that I didn't know what I was doing or what my life meant. I think I was having an existential crisis. But when Ezra moved next door, when he began to sooth the hurt things, I felt something growing stronger inside of me, a will to live life and be happy. The more that time passed, the more I felt I could do anything, and be someone to make Grandma and Grandpa proud.

I hope one day Ezra will realize just how much he changed my life, how he was there when I needed him most.

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