Leaving Amy (Amy #2)

by Julieann Dove

  He stood up. “No one is breaking anyone’s heart here, Amy. She’s a great lady and I’ve set her straight in what I’m seeking.”

  Oh no. This didn’t sound good. I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “What are you seeking?”

  “Not anything serious.”

  I walked over and couldn’t help but push his chest. “Tom, that’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

  He laughed. My jaw hung. What was so funny?

  “Tom!”

  “What? Amy, you tickle me when you try to play Cupid. Kate’s a wonderful lady, but I don’t feel anything more than a great friendship with her. She’s like the nice woman at the grocery store who always goes out of her way to go in the back to pull the freshest loaf of bread for me. Nothing more.”

  “Oh my Lord!” I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “What have you done? She’s fragile, Tom. She told me you were the first guy she’s liked since her dead husband. Oh, and for your information, no one goes in the back and pulls fresh bread, Tom. She probably wants to get to know you better, too. Are you blind, man?”

  “No, I’m not blind, Amy. I knew George. He was a great guy. And she’s fine with us being friends. You need to stop arranging dates for me. I’m not in the market for one.”

  I sat up, grabbing my towel that was now almost completely off my wet head. “I can’t believe you told her that. And, sure she’s going to say it’s all right to be friends, Tom. That’s what every girl does. They lie and tell you what you want to hear.”

  He gave me a look. Nothing came from his mouth, just that he-knew-me-better-than-I-knew-myself look.

  “What?”

  “I’ve had a feeling girls lie. Are you one of them?”

  “Of course not.” I picked up my damp towel and walked toward the bathroom.

  “Where were you last night?”

  “You know, people sometimes lie for the good of the situation, Tom McTavish,” I yelled out, hanging up my towel and squirting lotion on my hands.

  “Where were you last night, Amy?”

  I came out and was surprised to see him so close to the bathroom door. I practically ran right into him. “You need to reconsider Kate. She’s got it all. And whether or not you can see that now, you need to trust my instincts.”

  “I can ask the question all morning if I have to. I don’t have depositions until after lunch.”

  “Okay, I went home.” If that’s what I was calling it. It was what was left of my home, before I looted all of my things out of there. And now all that remained was an empty shell in which Twinkie wrappers and empty beer bottles were the main decor.

  “Home? Do you mean to Wesley’s?” He licked his lips. The muscles in his neck constricted.

  “Yes.” I lowered my head.

  “Why would you go there, Amy?”

  “I said I wanted to give you and Kate time alone.”

  “Well, you don’t have to do that again.” He walked toward the door to leave.

  I called out to him. “Tom, you’re making a mistake with her. She’s the one for you.”

  He closed the door and I ran into the bathroom and slammed my door and screamed behind my gritted teeth. Stubborn man.

  The rest of the week went quietly by. Wesley saw my visit as a silver lining to our relationship and asked me out to dinner again before he left on the retreat to immerge himself in sample bar questions before the big test. I went; I still needed the practice of getting reacquainted with him. Not like anything major had changed, but I needed to get acclimated to the Wesley-and-Amy thing again. A Whitfield until death, I suppose. And Tom wasn’t exactly being present at home. Since he walked out of my room Tuesday morning, I’d only seen him late at night coming in from work or walking out the front door. I wasn’t sure whether his hours had changed or he was avoiding me. For why I wasn’t sure. So I turned off my phone; get over it already!

  “Amy, it’s great to see you again.” Wesley kissed my cheek.

  That was unusual. Was there a full moon or eclipse I didn’t know about? Wesley’s kissing me and Tom’s running from me. It had to be some type of natural force at work.

  “Hey, I ordered an appetizer. Spicy shrimp—I know how you love them.”

  “Thanks.”

  He sat down, straightening his tie. He looked handsome, dressing up for work every day. Maybe being the leader of his dad’s legacy was changing him.

  “Jeff said you stopped by Margaret’s yesterday. He said she was very pleased.”

  I set down my water and played with the water ring it left on the linen tablecloth. “Yes. It was weird going there, you know?”

  “You haven’t been there since your mom—”

  “No,” I blurted before he could say she was gone. The time I spent on the other side of Margaret’s desk, the one that used to be my mother’s, was all too jolting to my system.

  “How did you feel? Is it something you can do while Margaret’s handling things with Jeff?”

  “I’ll have to. It’s my responsibility.”

  The waiter came and set down a Coke in front of Wesley. I checked my phone again as he took a drink of it. Tom didn’t seem to be checking in with me at all this week. I was worried about him. I tried my best to avoid Kate at work, for fear something had gone wrong. Tom needed to get things back on track with that woman.

  “Yeah, it’s crazy how it’s come around full circle, huh?”

  “A little bizarre.”

  “Things happen for a reason.”

  I cleared my throat, trying not to say what was on my mind. You know, the cheating part of full circle. Was that a component of this circle?

  “What if it had worked out with your mistress?”

  His head jerked back and he rubbed his eyes. “Amy, can we ever get past that?”

  “I’m just asking. If you were living happily ever after with her, you wouldn’t be here to take over the company.”

  “I think I went through that to realize what I have with you.” He took my hand and rubbed the top of it. “You’re an amazing woman, Amy. I was foolish to think there was something out there better.”

  People made mistakes, right? It’s fine. I could be an adult. Millions of women forgive their husbands who stray. This is meant to be. It’s full circle, just like he said. Because of Wesley’s cheating ways, I got to discover I want more than what we had, I discovered Mark, and I had a lifelong friend in Tom. Yep, that about took care of the inventory. I could move forward, having placed all the people in their correct places. I’d have to give some thought about Ashley’s placement. I hadn’t spoken to her in forever. The last time I did, I told her to leave. I felt extremely bad for this. Mom wouldn’t like us to be fighting. Then again, Mom never understood what a liar and back-stabber my sister was.

  “Here’s to starting over.”

  He clinked my glass with his, smiling so big I knew he was happy.

  “So, I leave tomorrow. I should be back in four days. Then I’ll take the test and wait to hear.”

  “I know you’ll pass, Wesley.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. After I get my mind out of my books, I can concentrate on Christmas. I haven’t had time to shop yet.”

  Not that I was wondering. Last year he got me a magazine subscription for some kind of health and fitness fad, a pair of gloves, and a scarf. He might’ve spent twenty minutes at the mall, including parking time and paying at the cash register. But who was judging? Wesley wasn’t a good gift buyer. No need in slapping that label on him for this year. This year was for groveling. Come to think of it, I might get a bumper crop in presents. Yeah, I didn’t hold my breath.

  “Don’t worry about Christmas. Just keep your mind on passing the test.”

  I had thought about the house and how it was sad that it didn’t have a tree up. Our first year without one. But then, where would the trashcan go? I noticed when I was there that Wesley had brought the one from the kitchen and set it in the corner of the living room. Why get up
and make the extra ten steps when all he had to do was crumple the bag and toss it? I only picked up twelve or so of his misses the last time I was there. Maybe I’d just start fresh in the New Year. Stay away from the depressing un-decorated house until January. I’d unpack my things and get back to…no, not back…get to making a new life.

  I got home from my semi-date with Wesley and was surprised to see Tom in the living room. I walked in and plopped down on the sofa. He watched the screen of the television intently. I couldn’t tell whether it was the program was that interesting or he was intentionally ignoring me.

  “So what’s up?” I tried to sound cheery, even raised my voice an octave.

  “Oh, not much. You?”

  Not good. So far there’s no eye contact. I could be Jack the Ripper sitting next to him for all he saw.

  “I ran into Kate today at work and she gave me the number to a trusted caterer. I already called them and because of the time crunch, I selected a menu. I figured you didn’t care. There’s no sense in thinking I can pull off a few veggie trays at this late time.”

  I was hoping the mention of Kate would trigger something…and not a gun to blow up in my face.

  “Thank you. That’s great to hear. I have a buddy who does that music thing on one of those little computers. He’s all set to be here the night of the party.”

  Ah, the new wave of technology. Tom embraced it as well as he could. I finally loosened the grip he had on the ancient Blackberry he’d been using. With his smartphone, he could do so much more. Unfortunately, all he did more of was complain how it was something new to learn.

  “It sounds like everything’s coming together then.”

  Cue the awkwardness. Oops, no it seemed to already be there. Sitting on the sofa between us. Ugly little thing, it was.

  “Are you still going with me tomorrow night to the Chamber of Commerce Christmas party?”

  I hit myself in the head. “Crap, is that tomorrow night?”

  “Yes. I RSVP’d months ago. You said you’d be my date. As usual.”

  Of course, I was a permanent appendage of Tom’s at these events. Mark and I always fought about them. Well, I wouldn’t exactly say fight, but he never agreed that I should always be Tom’s date. Get real; I wasn’t really his date. He just never liked going to these things and standing around without having any fun. When I’d go, we’d talk about the couples, wonder why they matched, and try all the food on the bars, picking which one we’d try to sneak out to eat more of later.

  “My dress is packed in that silly-looking truck parked outside of your house. I’ll have to get the keys and go look for it.”

  Tom had the movers bring my belongings to his house, and the big, ugly orange and white truck sat on his imprinted concrete drive. I’m certain the snooty neighbors loved that sight.

  “Tom, where are the keys?”

  He finally looked at me. I couldn’t swallow right and instead coughed a bit. He seemed so different. So removed. What had happened to my Tom?

  “I think out in the kitchen drawer. Marcella cleaned today and she probably put them out of sight.”

  I sighed. “I never can find anything when she comes on Fridays. Why do you need a cleaning lady once a week anyway? You’re not messy; you take all your shirts to the cleaners—”

  “Marcella takes them to the cleaners,” he interrupted.

  I stand corrected. “Okay, but she drives me crazy moving things around in my room. It took me forever to find my shampoo last week. I finally found it under the sink in the guest bath.”

  “I’ll tell her not to go in there anymore.”

  “I don’t want to offend her. She’s a very nice woman.” I played with the collar of my shirt.

  He rose from the sofa and picked up the remote control from the side table. “I think I’m going to bed. Do you want to stay and watch television?”

  Why was he being so stuffy? So formal? I was Amy, not some houseguest. Well, theoretically…

  “I’m good. You can turn it off. I’ll go to bed, too.”

  “Have a good night.”

  And just like that, he walked off toward the staircase. Have a good night? What happened to him? Why was he so distant? Had he not forgiven me for the Kate-making-dinner thing? I shrugged it off and took it as a good sign that he still wanted to go to the party tomorrow night. I loved going to those events and seeing all the beautiful dresses. I needed to make sure to find my own in the morning.

  I tried to stop thinking about how Tom had changed and the reason for it, and jumped in the shower. There I could concentrate on the walls. Counting the tiles and tracing their veins with my fingers. I had the scent of lavender with my gel to help, too. It aided in clearing my foggy head.

  When I was all dry, I opened the vanity drawer to pull out my gown. To my shock, it was empty. Darn that Marcella! I had to remind myself that she was a very nice lady—quiet and polite. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, but boy did she have a way with playing Marco Polo with your things. The only thing was, she was never around to yell Polo and tell you where they were.

  I wrapped the towel around me and went in search of my underwear and gown in my bedroom. All I could find was a camisole and a pair of silky underwear—my emergency pair for when my cotton ones were all dirty. Ashley had given them to me one year for my birthday. It came as a set with an expensive bra. I couldn’t even tell you where the bra was. The lace scratched me to death and it pinched the sides of my boobs.

  I pulled the rose-colored underwear out and shimmied into the top. I hoped I didn’t freeze in this thing tonight. I looked to the nightstand for my water bottle. I was certain I’d brought it upstairs with me. I had a bit of indigestion from dinner and needed to drink before bed. I peered around the room, trying to recollect where it was. I shut my eyes and remembered I’d drank it and thrown the bottle away. Crap!

  I looked around the room for something to put around me so I could go downstairs and get one from the fridge. All there was was my dirty outfit I’d worn that day. It was on the floor. I went to the dresser and opened the drawers. All that was in there were little shirts and sweaters for work. How long would it take, anyway, to run down and grab a bottle of water? I went to my door and cracked it open, listening for Tom. Whether I heard anything. Nothing but that noisy clock in the foyer. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The noise ricocheted on the marble floor.

  On tiptoes, I scampered down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Good, no lights were on. I accidently stubbed my toe on one of the barstools that wasn’t pushed in. A small curse exited my mouth as I headed for the refrigerator. I hoped Marcella had bought more water. Yes, she also did Tom’s grocery shopping. He’d leave a list on the counter, and she’d pick up the essentials. Easy peasy. She was quite handy for some things. I’d miss her next month when I’d have to go push a cart around Whole Foods.

  I was partaking in one of the majestic bottles of spring water, packaged in the Alps—or someone’s backyard spigot, depending on how cynical you were—and suddenly a pair of naked feet stood beneath the opened door. I’d seen those feet before. And that’s when I closed my eyes and wished it was a dream. That I wasn’t caught in the kitchen, wearing nothing but the reserve panties and a braless camisole. White and see-through to boot. Kill me now.

  “Hungry?” asked the pair of legs.

  I kept the door ajar. If I didn’t see him, he didn’t see me. I could save this humiliation and dart out of there very fast—at the speed of light. Or the speed of rose-colored underwear.

  “No, just getting some water.” My heart jumped.

  “Can you grab me the iced coffee?” he asked as I maintained my position behind the door.

  “Tom, you know that will keep you up tonight.”

  I swear, that man needed a keeper. The last time he drank that Starbucks drink he didn’t sleep a wink. He binge-watched Scandal instead.

  “Amy, just hand me a bottle, please.”

  I handed it to him and pushed the door shut. That was it; w
hat was his problem anyway?

  “Tom, exactly what’s wrong with you? You haven’t really spoken to me for a few days, you’re gone when I wake up, you come home late…what gives?”

  By this time, I stop my rant and see that he’s staring at me. What? Did I have something on my face? Lotion from that anti-wrinkle cream I’ve been trying out? Oh no! I closed my eyes, remembering what I had on my body. Barely anything. Evidently my irritation with him had trumped my memory of wardrobe.

  I shrunk, cowering over and putting the bottle of water over my chest. Yeah, that helped. I crossed my other arm over my stomach and grabbed hold of my hip. All righty then. Practically nude girl sounding off.

  He cleared his throat—his eyes never left mine. “I thought this was what you wanted. I thought you wanted me to seem uninterested, unaffected by you. That way you wouldn’t run off and stay the night with him just to prove you felt nothing for me.” He stepped closer. “Because I know I’m not imagining this, Amy. You do feel something for me.”

  What? I just wanted him to fall madly in love with Kate and live happily ever after, so that I could go back with Wesley and whatever. All right, who was I kidding? Yes, I had feelings for this guy. I just didn’t want him to reciprocate. Kind of like when you have a crush on a boy band member. And hang posters in your room. It’s not as if he’s ever going to visit your house and tell you he’s been feeling the same way. I needed Tom to be a poster in my head. There was no way I could or should act on the crazy feelings I was having for him. It was a boy band impossibility.

  “I wanted you to try it out with Kate.”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, you did? You really tried? You only ate with her twice. Who knows what kind of person they are over two meals? She might’ve had a headache and wasn’t giving it her all.”

  “A person knows almost instantly, Amy. It wasn’t there.”

  Still hunched over and trying desperately to seem authoritative in my underwear, I spouted off some more. “You didn’t even give her a fair shake.”