Leaving Amy (Amy #2)

by Julieann Dove

  “You make it sound like a flight plan, Amy.”

  “It is, in a way. Now why didn’t you tell me how gorgeous Kate was?” Way to channel back the good ol’ days where it was simple to be friends with this man! It’s always easier when one of us is taken. Or now so it seems.

  He squinted, taking a sip of the steaming coffee. After he swallowed, he said, “It didn’t come up in conversation.”

  Then he thought she was gorgeous? Breathe, Amy. This is your best friend. Of course you want him with someone gorgeous. Someone to make him apple pies so he doesn’t starve; someone to make him happy and be with so he’s not alone.

  “Well, she certainly is.” And let’s not mention she’s Tom’s age. They could reminisce on the Woodstock era, whereas I’d be like, Snoopy and Woodstock?

  “She said you were lovely as well.”

  “That was kind of her.” I looked at the clock on the stove and then down at my watch to make sure they matched. “Well, I have to go. I hope traffic isn’t bad.” I grabbed my water bottle and began to walk away.

  “Amy…”

  I turned around.

  “Have a nice day.”

  I looked at that tall, handsome man. Standing there in his three-piece blue suit. White shirt pressed professionally, wearing that red tie. His eyes were made for breaking hearts. I could hear mine shatter inside me.

  I was busy not working that morning when Sonja came in and fell into the chair opposite my desk.

  “Amy, I’m in love!”

  I was shocked. This was Sonja saying this. The lady who didn’t usually get the name of the guy before she let him take her to bed. She could only describe him based on height, eye color, and other sordid details.

  “In love? You?”

  “Oh my Lord, yes! This is it, Amy. If he asked me today to marry him, I’d trade in my black book and drag him to the chapel.”

  She had my attention. I leaned back in my chair. “You don’t say. What’s his name?”

  I waited for the sound of crickets. Sonja had been in love before without getting pertinent facts.

  “His name is John Turner. He’s got brown eyes, the best smile you’ve laid eyes on, a tiny tattoo over his right nipple that says ‘love resides here,’ and the strongest hands I’ve ever felt rubbing against my thighs.”

  I cleared my throat. “Okay, I don’t think I need to know that kind of information. And isn’t your heart under the left nip— Anyway, so you’re in love?”

  “It’s more than love. I don’t know what it is, girl. Have you ever just been sitting there at the stoplight or at your computer and all you see is his face? And the thought of seeing him again makes you kind of shiver. Like eating a lemon after a shot of tequila?”

  “You had me until the lemon thing. I’ve never tasted tequila. Although I can imagine a lemon after anything would be quite tart, therefore eliciting a shiver.”

  “Okay.” She scrunched up her nose. “Well, trust me, love feels different. It’s more than anything else. I feel alive when I’m with him. I’m not staring at him through dinner and wondering what I’ll wear the next day, or how I’m getting my hair cut at the next appointment. I’m actually envisioning myself with this guy for the rest of my life.” She scooted up on the chair. “Do you know he actually pulls out my chair before I sit, and he opens my car door?”

  “That is something for sure. Not many guys do that.” Of course, Tom did.

  She stood. “Why didn’t you all tell me this is what it was like to be married? I always looked at you and Rosa, no offense…” she touched my arm, “as a little bit pathetic.” She held up two fingers, as if to measure how small of a pathetic we were. “You know, you never really acted like you were exactly thrilled about the whole thing. I felt like you were in pain sometimes. Now, Paige and Flo…” She put her finger to her mouth. “They could’ve convinced me different.” She hit the desk. “Anyway, I just wanted to come in and tell you. Girl, I woulda been looking for this before now if I’d known.”

  After she shut my door, I looked at my computer screen. That isn’t what being married felt like. Should someone tell her the truth? Although I did remember seeing Paige a few weeks ago at lunch. Her husband had surprised her and took her out. She came back looking happier than when she left. How dare she. Giving false perceptions to poor Sonja. Marriage wasn’t at all like that. It was about endurance. You had to get up every morning and do your push-ups, pull-ups and leg lunges. Marriage wasn’t a sprint; it was a long marathon. Smiling through his silent farts and pretending you didn’t smell rot and then gritting when he forgot your birthday again was the worst type of warm-ups I could imagine.

  I was beginning to get my mind back on my job when another knock came. This time it was a large bouquet of white roses that appeared.

  “Look who got flowers.” Sonja handed them over to me.

  My heart flipped. I won’t say who I wanted them to be from, but I closed my eyes as I sat them down and grabbed the card.

  “You see, Amy. Love is in the air!” She pulled the door shut.

  I took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

  I hope this cheers you up, Tom.

  Oh my Lord! That man needed to stop being so…being so…nice. And caring. And gentleman-like. And overstepping the line. I warned him. If he only tried, then I wouldn’t be staring at my computer and thinking about him. Just keep all that good stuff to yourself, Tom McTavish. But no, he didn’t follow directions well at all. I should’ve just found another apartment. Then Tom and I could’ve continued going out every other weekend and whatever. Appearing at charity events with him so he wouldn’t be bored, or seeing the opening movie down at the theater and grabbing coffee at the bistro before returning home. But now without Mark being my love interest and living under the same roof again with Tom, I was open season to any type of affection he could throw at me. Lately, without the obstacles of Mark, my defenses seemed to be weakened.

  I picked up the phone and pressed his picture. I waited for him to pick up.

  “Tom?” I said when the phone stopped ringing.

  “Amy?”

  “Yes. I just got your flowers. Thank you.”

  “You won’t admit it, but something’s wrong. I hope they cheer you up.”

  I looked up at the ceiling. I never expected to feel what I was feeling for him. All of his attention, and his white tee shirts, and those come-hither eyes. He made it so easy to fall for him.

  “Tom, do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” I banged my head with my free hand. I could hear the match strike. Playing with fire never led to anything other than burning down houses. Nice, uncomplicated houses.

  “I’d love to. I’ll pick you up.”

  “Tom, we live together.”

  “I know, but I’ll pick you up. It makes it more special.”

  That’s not what I was going for. Well, it was, but not really. Lord help me. What was I doing? That’s the last time I let my libido suggest something without permission from my brain.

  “Okay. I’ll be ready about six.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

  I was resolved. I felt good about this. It’s amazing how you could have a resolution about something and then five seconds later, second-guess it. In this case, it came an hour later. After Kate Harris dropped by my office looking for me. So much for running into her in the halls. She was now stalking me. Leave me alone, Kate Harris. Let me be stupid and live with the consequences. Take your shiny halo and perfect smile and wait in the parking lot until I see what’s up with me and Tom. Me and Tom?

  “Hey Amy! I’m so glad I found you. Have you had lunch?”

  Who could eat? I had a hormonal husband waiting for me to return to our bed, a guy I lived with and couldn’t get off my mind, and a relationship that went belly-up all in the matter of a few weeks. Maybe even before then. I wasn’t the keenest on signals. I had a type of color-blindness to them.

  “No, I’ve been busy today. I’ll just pr
obably grab a sandwich and eat it at my desk.” Alone. With my dozen roses.

  She touched the petals of my flowers and a smile lit her face. “How gorgeous. You’re a lucky girl.”

  “I guess.” Guilt was written all over my face.

  “Come and let me buy you a sandwich. I’d love to talk with you. I’m kind of in a desperate situation.”

  And I looked as though I could provide a solution? She’d need a backup plan for sure.

  “Well…”

  “It’s settled. Come on. The cafe down the block has clam chowder on Mondays.”

  She was practically headed to get my coat. I had no choice in the matter.

  We took a seat in the overcrowded coffee shop. I threw some oyster crackers into my seeping soup. How did I get here? kept creeping into the forefront of my mind.

  “You’ll never know how grateful I am to have met you.” She stirred her soup a few times. “Glenda, the friend who hosted Thanksgiving dinner, mentioned how reserved Tom was. You know, which isn’t a bad thing; he just doesn’t give anyone anything to gossip about. Kind of like Prince William and his wife. You never see them on the cover of magazines due to scandal. They’re only on there because of their perfect family.”

  I nodded, taking the spoon to my lips. Perhaps if I scorched my tongue I’d be excused from this type of cruelty. I’d have to go to the emergency room and they’d pack my mouth with ice and gauze. That might prove to help me in all aspects of my life.

  “Anyway, I hadn’t been out with anyone since George.” She tapped some chowder off her spoon, on the side of the bowl. “He was my husband. We were married three years before he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I took care of him for a year before he passed.” She stopped moving for a moment and looked to the back wall of the sandwich shop.

  I laid down my spoon as though it was a moment for silence.

  “That was two years ago.” She looked at me with those long eyelashes batting. Just add Helen Keller attributes to her resume.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “I was a complete wreck.” She smoothed out the red checkered tablecloth. “I took leave from my job and didn’t come out of my house for months.”

  “That’s so sad.” I felt bad for wanting to scorch my tongue. She was obviously in pain and needed someone to talk to.

  “Well, when I saw Tom that night, it was like…” She gazed out the window and a smile came to her face. “It was like I was a teenager again. I felt like there might be some type of life after George. Not that I would compare the two. They are extremely different from each other. It was just that I felt something. A strange attraction to him. Like George had sent him to me.” She waved her hand in the air. “Anyway, feeling it made me think I could get out there again. I’m hoping for the best. Does that sound silly? Premature even? I know we’ve only just met. But, I sense a connection to him.”

  Whoa. This was deep. Who could eat and listen to this at the same time? Connection? Yeah, I could identify.

  “I guess what I’m asking, Amy, is some advice not to mess this up. He’s like no one I’ve been around. He’s kind, he’s a gentleman… Do you know when Patricia, that’s George’s sister, told me he was divorced, I was like why? Who would divorce this man?” She raised up her hands.

  “I know, right?” A nagging oyster cracker had gotten stuck behind my front teeth.

  “So you see what a wonderful man he is too, then? You get why this is so important for me to find out how not to tank this?”

  I scooped another boiling bite into my mouth and shook my head. The popping of my taste buds were penance for trying to score a date with him earlier. Clearly he was earmarked to be this kind woman’s second chance at love. I was merely flirting with disaster. I had a husband. And in the eyes of Kate and Margaret, I needed to start appreciating him better.

  “I gather from the couple times I’ve been with him that he’s a bit reserved. I mean, yes, he keeps eye contact and converses great, but he’s not that open about himself.”

  “Yeah, he’s not too open, but he’s not evasive, either. You have to draw it out of him.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I don’t like a guy who I know everything there is to know after the fifth date. Does that make sense?”

  I shook my head. Then she didn’t want to meet Wesley. What little there was to find out was spilled by date number two. He wasn’t an athlete, although he liked watching sports; he didn’t like liquor, although he could chug beer; he’d rather hire someone to cut the grass than get off the sofa to do it himself; and his idea of vacation was sleeping in and eating dinner on the furniture and plainly just not going into the office. There was no need to involve travel in the equation. Although that was tied-up and gagged Wesley. The mysterious guy living trapped inside the other one. The new Wesley did mention the wine country. So much for knowing who I’d been living with the previous years of my life.

  “Well, Tom is a little gun-shy as well. Since his divorce, and handling divorces as an attorney, he has little conviction about long-lasting relationships.”

  “Poor guy.” She shook her head back and forth, tapping a napkin to her fully-rounded lips. It was amazing; her lips remained glossy after the wipe. “He needs someone completely available to his needs. Someone to put him first and show him that things can work out.”

  It was as if I were giving away the cookie recipe of my dead great-grandmother’s. And when I heard exactly what Tom needed outside of my brain, I realized it was something I certainly couldn’t do. The more relationships I was involved in that were dominoing down, the more I became stoic to the fact there was a happily ever after. And with Wesley making partner and me taking over the organization while poor Margaret’s world collapsed, I was not that person. Tom deserved Kate. Beautiful complexion, round cheeks, flawless personality Kate. She even lifted the spirits of the lady taking orders, telling her what a fantastic job she did.

  I practically turned up my soup bowl and slurped it down just so I could dash back to the office. I needed to call and cancel my date with Tom. No need in making him a third victim in my double homicide, where all I seemed to do was become the murderer of love.

  “Kate, it’s been lovely getting to know you better. Maybe you should call and ask Tom out for tonight.”

  Her pointed smile turned downward. “I did, but he said he had plans.” Her round eyes slanted. “I think I was too pushy. That’s the last thing I want to be. I can’t believe I asked him. I’m usually much more patient. I just can’t seem to get him off my mind. Am I crazy?”

  Wrong person to ask, said the crazier lady’s subliminal thought. “Not at all. I’ll give him some hints that you’re interested. That is, if you want.”

  She practically hugged my brains out. Before I knew what hit me, she threw her arms around me and I was breathing in her fabulous-smelling, shiny hair. The edge of the table smooshed into my chest. When she released me, I thought I saw water in her eyes.

  “Oh, will you? I’d be so thankful. I mean don’t come right out and say we talked and I was asking you to do it. Just say I am very open to any future dates.”

  “Okay, then.” I pulled down my shirt and pushed back my stringy-feeling hair. I needed to get some of that conditioner she uses. “I really have to get back. Thanks again for lunch.”

  “My pleasure. And thank you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was hoping to get home before Tom and be able to get in bed with a thermometer. But it didn’t happen. I saw his car and slid down behind my steering wheel. What was I going to do now? I’d practically called him up at work and promised him a good time. Some might even consider it a date. That was before the grieving widow Kate called me to fight on her side of the line. To introduce me to the fact that it isn’t all about spur-of-the-moment feelings of crushes. She was opening up herself after years of hurt, hoping Tom would reciprocate and even be the “one.” What I was doing was more off-the-cuff. Like “Hey, want to go out and see where
it leads…because I have little intention of following through with it, seeing that I have to be home in a few weeks to be a wife to Wesley.” What was I thinking?

  I warily opened the front door, looking around before I stepped inside.

  “Hey you.” Tom came out of the den and scared me to death.

  “Hey.” My heart fluttered, like a sputtering fly right before it dies.

  I actually smelled and saw him all at the same time. He wore a pair of jeans with a Henley top. It was blue and somehow was beckoning a rub from my hands.

  “New jeans?” I hoped not, but I was stalling for a good idea of why we couldn’t proceed as promised.

  “Yeah. You like them?” He looked down at them, brushing off a renegade string. “The salesgirl said they fit all right.”

  I bet she did.

  “They look great. When did you get them?”

  “I left work a little early and got them.”

  Okay, shopping for me? Leaving work early? Not good. Not good for Kate, and not good for a change in plans.

  “And you showered, I smell…I mean, I see.”

  “Yes. Well, I didn’t want to go from work right out on the town. What about you?” He gestured to me. “Do you want time to get ready?”

  I looked down at myself. I had on a pair of dress wool pants coupled with a red sweater. Definitely work attire.

  “I wasn’t implying anything by it, Amy. I just didn’t know if you wanted me to wait for you. Certainly I will.”

  “Well…” I looked up toward the ceiling. “I don’t feel exactly well. I’m thinking it’s not such a good idea for me to go out after all.”

  His head hung while his shoulders shrugged forward. Commence first letdown.

  “Tom, I’m really sorry.” I clasped my hands together.