Sounds nice, she typed. Her breath quickened both with excitement and anxiety. Too much, too soon. Trent was obviously still in love with his wife, and Olivia was making progress—sure—but they weren’t there yet.
Trent’s next message made her palms sweaty. Want to drop by for tea when you’re through?
Her heart raced at the thought of being close to Trent again. It would be so easy to say yes, but was that the right answer? She already liked him far more than she should, and besides, Bridget needed every bit of help Amy could give her this week.
Can’t, she said, debating the word even as she typed it.
Trent replied with a frowny face emoji.
Amy knew she should put the phone away for now and focus on her work with Nichole, but she couldn’t leave things on this disappointing note. She didn’t want to hurt Trent by getting too close, but pushing him away seemed to be hurting him, too. Maybe there was no right answer in this situation. Maybe there never would be.
I’d much rather be having tea with you, Amy typed out, then deleted it, then typed the words again before finally pressing send.
Now Trent replied with a smiling emoji.
Amy smiled, too.
“What do you look so happy about?” Nichole asked, craning her neck to try to catch a peek at Amy’s phone screen.
“Nothing,” she answered coyly as she tucked her phone back into her pocket.
Nichole looked her up and down, then broke out into a cloying grin that didn’t suit her at all. “You met a guy,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What? No. I mean . . .” Amy decided she’d do better not to fight it. If she held out on Nichole too long, her friend would probably try to involve the others, and Amy did not want to be the center of attention just then, especially not because of her crush on Trent. “How did you know?” she asked, her shoulders slumping as all the fight went out of her.
“C’mon, Ames. I’m a professional people reader. It is literally my job.” She widened her eyes and dropped her voice into a husky whisper. “Now, are you going to tell me about him or what?”
Amy shrugged in an attempt to seem nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. Just a little crush.”
“Like the one you had on Keith?” Nichole asked with a glance back toward Hazel, who was luckily too immersed in her accounting task to pay any attention to the two of them.
“Hush up. Will you?” Amy hissed.
“Tell me. Tell me,” Nichole begged. She sounded more like Bridget—the usual, non-event-crazed Bridget—than herself.
She slapped Nichole on the shoulder and fixed her with a stern expression. “It’s not a big deal. Okay? I just have a crush on one of my student’s fathers.”
Nichole nodded smugly and her voice became unnaturally cheery yet again. “It’s the widower. Isn’t it?”
Amy groaned. “How are you suddenly the expert on my life?”
“You should invite him over. I’m sure Bridget wouldn’t say no to a bit of extra help.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not inviting him over here.” The smell of dirty dishes had once again overpowered the air freshener, and Amy suspected it might never go away now.
Nichole leaned back out of Amy’s slapping zone, but she refused to drop the subject. “Okay, not here. I agree. How about to your place, then?”
“What? No. Nichole, stop. Just leave it alone.” Unfortunately, Amy’s arguments were ignored entirely. She now knew how Bridget must have felt about her earlier bout of tidying up.
“Hey, B!” Nichole called, her voice now back at its full volume. “It’s kind of cramped here. Can we work on everything at my place tomorrow? I can set up some card tables to give us more workspace, and Amy knows some more people who’d like to help volunteer as well.”
“Roger that.” Bridget continued to sketch with one hand, but gave Nichole the thumbs-up with the other.
“See?” Nichole leaned forward again and pushed Amy’s shoulder playfully. “Bridget needs the extra set of hands. Besides, helping others is sometimes the best way to help yourself. It might be a good project for his little girl, too. Could help draw her out of her shell.”
Amy definitely couldn’t argue with that. “Fine,” she said. “But please don’t embarrass me tomorrow.”
“Why would I do that?” Nichole asked, scrunching her face up in confusion, as if to suggest she was completely innocent of this charge. “I want this for you, Amy. I’m trying to help.”
“Why, though? You’re the last person I’d expect to be in love with love.” Amy’s words came out much more harshly than she intended, but surely Nichole knew how off-putting her usual demeanor could be.
“Maybe,” her friend admitted. “But you’re the first person I’d expect to be in love, and I want good things to happen for my friends. So, are you going to text him or what?”
Once again, Amy couldn’t argue with that particular suggestion. She could still put up a fight, though. “Not with you hovering over me.”
Nichole laughed and shook her head. “Fine. I’ll give you some space, but don’t wimp out on me.”
With a defeated humph, Amy excused herself from their work room and went to hide in the kitchen. Her hands shook as she searched for the letters she needed to compose her message. How had she suddenly lost the ability to text? This was beyond ridiculous.
Remember my friend Bridget? Amy typed at last, then pressed send and took a deep breath as the three little dots danced at the bottom of her screen.
Trent answered so quickly, she wondered if he had been waiting beside his phone for her to pick up their conversation. Wishful thinking or merely observant?
The one who’s like Julie. Sure, he answered.
She’s doing this big event for the animal shelter and it’s all hands on deck. Amy paused and took a couple more deep breaths. Why was this so difficult? Would you and Olivia be interested in helping out tomorrow after school?
Unlike Amy, Trent didn’t hesitate. His response came back immediately once again. Was it because he didn’t return Amy’s crush? Or because he did? Ugh, so many mixed signals—most of them coming from Amy herself.
We’d love to! A new puppy could be just what Liv needs to start feeling like herself again.
Great! We’ll be at my friend Nichole’s tomorrow at 5:30. I’ll shoot you the address in just a sec.
Trent sent another smiley face, and Amy forwarded Nichole’s contact info, then powered down her phone.
No more distractions.
No more temptations.
Well, at least not until tomorrow.
Chapter 20
The friends made great progress that first night at Bridget’s apartment, but they still had much more to do so that the Date-a-Rescue event would be ready in time. Despite all their help, Bridget appeared more frazzled than ever when she arrived at Nichole’s for their work session the next day.
“I presented everything to the board today, and they loved it,” she informed Amy with a scowl while Nichole fussed with something in the kitchen and Hazel made several trips back and forth to her SUV.
That left Amy to deal with Bridget’s mood swings for the time being. “That’s great,” she said. “Of course, they did. You’ve worked so hard to make this something really wonderful.”
Bridget shrugged and looked away. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But now they don’t want the cats to be left out and asked if I could include them in the event as well.”
Amy blanched. Adding the cats would more than double the work that had been done so far, and Bridget was already firing on all cylinders and long since burnt out. “I thought somebody else was leading the effort with the cats?” she argued, trying her best to hide the worry that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Someone else was,” Bridget confirmed. “But she just took a few pictures and posted on her personal social media accounts. Not one of our twenty-one cats got adopted because of her posts.”
Uh-oh. “You know you don’t have to say yes,”
Amy reminded her, but even she knew it was too late.
“Of course, I have to say yes,” Bridget countered with a sigh. “The cats deserve to find homes just as much as the dogs do. How could I say no?”
“But, B, you’re coming apart at the seams here.”
She shook her head. “I’m just a bit tired. I’ll have some more coffee and be good as new. We have less than a week to go, but we could be saving so many lives. Don’t you see? I couldn’t stop my mom from dying, but I can save these animals.”
Amy sucked air in through her teeth. Finally, Bridget had admitted what was at the heart of this particular mission. Had she known all this time? Did she even hear the words as they left her mouth?
“Bridget, I—”
Bridget shook her off. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get this done like we agreed. Okay?”
“Okay.” Amy sighed heavily, then watched as Bridget stomped off toward the kitchen.
While debating what—if anything—she should do next, her phone buzzed with a text from Trent: We’re here.
Amy raced outside to greet him and Olivia, and found they were already waiting on the doorstep. “Why didn’t you just knock?” she asked with a laugh.
“Good question,” he said, making a silly face. “I guess it just seemed easier to text.”
Amy bent down until she was at the same height as the little girl. “Hi, Olivia. Thank you for coming to help today. I just got some good news. We’re going to be helping dogs and cats now. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Olivia nodded and clapped her hands together. “Can we get a kitty, too, Daddy?”
Trent blushed and pulled Olivia closer to him. “Now, Liv, I already told you, we’re just here to help out today. The event isn’t until next week. We can talk about adopting a pet then.”
“Okay,” she said sadly.
Trent caught Amy’s eye and shook his head. “Kids,” he said with another laugh. “They can just as easily forget their own names when you need them, but if you promise them something they want, they’ll never let it go.”
“Then I guess you’re getting a dog,” Amy said. “And maybe a cat, too.”
Trent blinked hard. “Well, I guess we’ll see.”
Amy guided them into the kitchen, where the rest of the friends were still organizing the workstations. “Everyone, this is Olivia and her dad, Trent,” she announced.
“Hi,” Nichole and Hazel chorused.
“Hello,” Bridget muttered distractedly.
Amy led their guests over to the others for a more proper introduction. “This is my friend Nichole,” she said, holding her arms out in a poor man’s impression of Vanna White. “This is her condo we’re at today.”
Nichole waved by wiggling the fingers on her raised hand.
“And this is my other friend Hazel,” Amy continued. “She’s the one who made our classroom look so pretty for Valentine’s Day.”
Olivia smiled politely at both of them but didn’t say anything aloud.
Trent shook both their hands, then crossed the room to extend a hand to Bridget as well. “And you must be the infamous Bridget?”
Her brows knit together in confusion. “I’m infamous?” she asked with a slow tilt of her head and a questioning glance toward Amy.
“Only in that you’re the one leading the event,” Amy interjected, widening her eyes at Trent and motioning for him to back away slowly. She’d forgotten to warn him just how short Bridget’s fuse was at the moment, but she could catch him up later.
“Well, thanks for helping,” Bridget mumbled before returning her full focus to the papers before her.
“She’s under a lot of pressure,” Hazel explained.
“They just added twenty-one cats to the event,” Amy explained further.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nichole said. “Don’t they see how hard she’s pushing herself already?”
Hazel bumped Nichole and made a shushing gesture. “Let’s just focus on what we need to accomplish to get everything done,” she suggested, then leaned forward with her hands on her knees to address Olivia. “So, you like arts and crafts? Want to help me with the decorations?”
Olivia looked at Trent. “Can I, Daddy?”
“Go ahead,” he said with a smile and a flick of his wrist.
“C’mon, I know just what you can help me with.” Hazel led Olivia to the spot where she’d unloaded half her decorators’ closet into the middle of Nichole’s living room.
“What do you need from me?” Trent asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“That depends. What are you good at?” Nichole challenged with one brow raised.
Amy felt heat rise to her cheeks, but decided to stay quiet. She, too, was curious to hear Trent’s response. Why did it feel as if she knew him so intimately when she couldn’t even answer this simple question about him? She tried to recall the business card he’d handed her after their collision, but couldn’t remember what he did or where he worked. It seemed the only thing she really knew about him was how he made her feel—and even that she questioned.
Trent laughed. “I don’t suppose you need a security detail at the event. Do you?”
“Probably not,” Nichole admitted. “Why? You a cop?”
Trent took a deep breath and rocked back on his heels. “Nope, prison guard.”
Nichole took an exaggerated step back. “Yikes. Well, I sure know not to act up around you.”
“Nic!” Amy scolded.
“Relax, I’m just giving him a hard time.” Stepping back toward Trent, she said, “I think it’s cool you’re a prison guard.” Then to Amy, she added, “And I think it’s cool the two of you are friends. He’s a nice guy, Ames. You could do a whole heck of a lot worse.”
Amy wanted to go bury her head in the sand or at least book it out of Nichole’s as fast as her two feet could carry her.
But then Trent said, “Look at that, Amy. I have your friend’s vote of approval.” When he winked flirtatiously, her heart practically stopped beating right then and there.
So, he did like her back. That still didn’t tell her what was right, given their unique situation—but it made her feel good to know her crush was reciprocated.
She didn’t stop smiling the whole rest of that night.
Or the next day, either.
Chapter 21
For the next couple days, everyone met at Nichole’s house after work to prepare for Bridget’s big adoption event. They even slept over on Saturday night, so that they could work straight through to Sunday.
On each of those days, Trent texted with Amy on and off throughout the day, then called her to talk by phone at night. Everything was coming together beautifully. And by Sunday afternoon, every last t had been crossed and i dotted. Even with the addition of twenty-one cats, every animal had a full profile write-up and color-coordinated badge to show which was good with kids, which preferred homes without other animals, and so on.
“I can’t believe you really pulled it off,” Amy said, slumping down onto the couch and letting out a happy sigh.
Bridget remained standing with one hand rubbing her chin as she surveyed the room. “It looks like everything is in place, but we won’t know if it’s a success until we see what kind of turnout we get.”
“We’ve got three days to work on that,” Hazel reminded them from her place on the floor. “Want me to get my social media team to run some ads?”
“That’s a good idea,” Nichole said. She lay sprawled on the ground like a snow angel. “I can run flyers around town to all the grocery stores and stuff.”
Everyone turned to Amy, except for Nichole, who continued to study the various spots and blotches on the ceiling.
“I’ll see if the principal will okay sending an announcement home in the kids’ folders,” Amy offered with a small shrug.
“See!” Hazel, who seemed to be the only one of them with any energy left, pushed herself to her feet. “It’s going to be awesome. Now, w
ho’s hungry?”
Nichole groaned, then struggled to her feet as well. “We ate through most of my pantry last night,” she called back to Amy as she ambled toward the kitchen. “Probably going to have to make a store run.”
“You doing okay, B?” Amy asked, now that the two were alone in the living room.
“I don’t know,” Bridget confessed, finally lowering herself to the couch. This was the first time Amy had seen her sit or take a break for days.
“I bet you’re really tired,” she said, trying to remain upbeat so as not to irritate her friend. Would Bridget’s mood swings come to an end now that the worst of this was over?
Bridget nodded as if to answer Amy’s unspoken question. “It feels weird to be done, but at the same time not done.” She turned to Amy suddenly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You know?” she squeaked.
Amy scooted closer and rubbed Bridget’s shoulders. The tension within her muscles made it feel as if she were massaging a giant bag of sand. Normally sand was squishy and easy to move, but it became heavy and rigid when packed together. Just like Bridget’s nerves these past couple weeks.
“I know,” Amy cooed as pain shot through her fingers. “But we’re almost there.”
“Thanks.” Bridget nodded again and laid her head against the armrest.
“We’re going out to grab some food,” Nichole announced as she and Hazel passed back through the living room and out the front door.
Amy’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and smiled when she saw a new message from Trent: It feels like it’s been forever since I saw you last.
Lately, every day felt like forever. Forever since she could go an entire day without swooning over her new crush. Forever since she’d last seen her mom. Forever since she’d been truly happy with her life.
She understood what Bridget meant about being done but not done. It had started to feel like she and Trent might be in a relationship, but also not in a relationship. This was day two without seeing Trent, and it shouldn’t have felt like a big deal, but it did. Although her first loyalty was to her friends, she longed for the chance to spend another night sitting next to Trent on his couch, drinking tea, sharing details about the lives they’d led to that point.
The Sunday Potluck Club Page 9
