Leaving Amy (Amy #2)

by Julieann Dove

  “Well, now, you see, funny you should mention that. We were stood up today by our realtor. Seems she forgot we had an appointment.”

  “It’s not the first time,” Susan chimed in, placing her glass of water back down on the table. “She was twenty minutes late on Monday when we had our first meeting.”

  I plucked a hair, just cringing at how Wesley was giving them the same impression by not being here. That’s when Tom strolled to the table.

  “I thought that was you, Frank.” He smiled as he extended his hand to shake with the jolly fellow.

  Oh, pa-lease. Tom was there that night at the party when Frank said we were meeting here this Wednesday. No need in trying to fool anyone, Tom.

  “Susan.” He took her hand and gently shook it.

  I looked up at the precise time his eyes had settled on mine.

  “Amy. It’s always a pleasure.”

  He took my hand and my central circuit board began to glitch. “Tom, it’s good to see you.”

  “Say, you wouldn’t know of any realtors, would you, Tom? I was just telling Amy how we’re not having any luck with ours. Stood us up today, wouldn’t you know it.”

  “I do know of one. She’s actually got her own company now.” He took his phone from his jacket pocket.

  “Here, sit down.” I pulled out Wesley’s empty chair while Tom fumbled with his phone.

  “I know it’s here somewhere.”

  I suddenly became nervous with how this would look when Wesley came to the table. If he ever came to the table. Where was he?

  “Here, give it to me.” I offered to take it and help in the search.

  Tom, bless his heart, still didn’t have the hang of this new smartphone. When I took his Blackberry, it was as though I took his index finger. Working with only four fingers wasn’t proving too effective for him.

  “She gets me this phone and tells me it’ll even show me how to get places.”

  I try not to look up, but I see Frank shoot a look to Susan. My paranoia levels are climbing. Where is the contact list on this thing and why isn’t it working?

  “Ah, here. It’s Mary you’re looking for, right? Mary Rollins?” I look at Frank and Susan. “She is fabulous. And trust me when I say she will never miss an appointment. She was my parents’ realtor.”

  Susan found a piece of paper in her bag and took down the number. “Thanks, we’ll give her a call.”

  I looked up when I heard someone clear their throat. It was Wesley. Finally.

  “Hey, where have you been? Traffic bad?” My thoughts were jumbled with Tom still there.

  Tom rose from the table and shook his hand. “Wesley.”

  Wesley seemed confused. “I’m sorry I’m late. A client kept me over at the office.”

  Yeah, right. Client Coors Lite. And it was more like last night.

  “Well, have a seat. The waiter has been circling. I’m sure he’s ready to tell us his specials.” I looked down at the table, feeling as though we’d all been caught having fun with Tom in Wesley’s absence.

  “Well, I’ll shove off then. I hope you have a good meal. Try the crab cakes; they’re really good tonight.”

  “Thanks for coming over, Tom. It was good seeing you. I’ll be in touch with a re-match.” Frank grinned like a little boy after saying it.

  “Good-night, Tom.” I tried my best to say it like Frank. Simple, plain, and without much inflection. It didn’t sound too needy, did it? Good-night?

  Wesley took his seat and the rest of the evening was vanilla. The conversation was rehearsed, the food was great, and my thoughts wanted desperately to wander out of the restaurant with Tom. Wondering whether he would go home and watch television, work late at the office, or whether any of his thoughts were of me.

  “Oh look, the furniture came!” I said, as I stumbled into the front room of our house.

  It was beautiful. I got it on sale over at Miller and Sons. The saleslady let me have it at fifteen percent off. End of year something or other.

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to say that’s why I was late tonight. It took them forever to get it through the door and unwrap it.”

  I kicked my shoes off at the door and went to touch it. Soft and chenille-like. It was almost white; real white was too scary with Wesley eating and drinking on it. Off-white could still camouflage dirty butt stains and chip oil.

  “Where’s our old furniture? I thought you had movers who were bringing it over here. With your other things.”

  Yeah, about that. Number one, I didn’t have the key to the moving truck. Number two, I didn’t want to bring all my other things along with it. There was something about being half committed to this thing. I’d find my cement somewhere and throw down some, therefore sinking my shoes into the messy stuff and realizing this was the last stop. Here with you…Wesley. The man I married. Then watched in a coma for weeks after leaving me. Only to find out about what’s her name and you were….

  “Amy? I asked where our other stuff was?”

  “Oh, right. I just wanted new sofas. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. What am I saying? Of course it is. In fact, let’s just buy a new house!” He grabbed and swung me around.

  “Wesley, what’s gotten into you?”

  He pressed me hard against his body. “Amy, the money came through. Jeff had it wired today!” He released his grip enough that I could take a breath. “And the guy I was working with found someone to sublet the restaurant in Nevada. After I pay the penalty for getting out of the apartment lease, I’ll be finished with that part of my life. We can celebrate!”

  I casually backed out of his swing-dance. “That’s great news.”

  I wanted to ask what he learned from all this. Especially considering it’d all disappeared within a few short months. No life lessons there if he didn’t feel the crunch at least a little day by day. No, with just a stroke of the check and a nod from the restaurant guy, Wesley got to go on vacation from life and escape it without a scar.

  I had to stop thinking this way. I didn’t want him to go through life suffering. Well, not all his life.

  “So, that’s a chapter behind you, I guess.” I tried to control my nostrils from flaring.

  “The worst chapter of my life. I don’t know how I could’ve done it without you.” He moved closer to me, pulling me in.

  On reflex, I pushed my hand against him.

  “Amy, what gives? I want to thank you.” He put his hand behind my neck and pecked me on the lips. Unaffected by my doorstop of a hand against his chest.

  “I’m just on edge, I guess.”

  “On edge? Why on earth are you on edge?”

  I backed away from him and sat down on the sofa. Wow, that felt great. Plushy and comfy. “Are you going to be able to pull the firm out of the brink?”

  He sat down next to me. His hand caressed my arm. “Of course. It’s not as bleak as Nick is making it out to be. I’ve got all the clients I’ve been working with, and they’re not going anywhere. We still get a percentage of Mason’s and Curtis’s clients. And with Frank Cabrella on board, we’re looking at a healthy New Year.”

  “I don’t know. Frank could go either way.”

  “What does that mean?” His body tensed. “And why was Tom sitting at the table before I came in? Are you trying to sabotage what we’ve got, Amy? You do realize he owns a large law firm that is in direct competition with ours.”

  See, I thought he was referring to what we had: Wesley and me, not the firm. I had to re-check the question before I answered. Take off the guilty-edged response. Keep it business.

  “Of course not, Wesley. The firm was my father’s too. I want to see it prosper. Tom was just saying hello to Frank. They play ball together, or something.” I didn’t need to be so spot-on with my information.

  “I think it’s a little convenient that Tom is so chummy with you, and he plays ball with Frank Cabrella.”

  “It’s not a conspiracy, for goodness’ sakes. Anyway, Tom and I were friends
before Frank and Susan came to town.”

  “Yeah, and I can’t say I’m a fan of it.”

  “What?”

  “You and Tom. I mean, you have matching tattoos, am I right?”

  “Well, they’re not matching exactly.”

  “My point, Amy, is that I couldn’t even get you to go jet-skiing last summer, in the bay where there’s very little waves, and you go out and get permanent ink injected under your skin with a needle, with this guy?”

  Jet-skiing made me nervous. Wesley liked to intentionally scare me, given the chance. I could only imagine getting behind him at the wheel of a water sport. No thanks.

  “It’s tiny, Wesley.”

  “I know. I’ve seen it.”

  He moved closer and played with my hair. “Which brings me to the next point I wanted to celebrate.”

  “Which is?” As if I didn’t know. All the signs were there. Foreplay of hair playing had commenced.

  “You returning home. It was so nice seeing the kitchen and bathrooms clean this morning.”

  Well, at least he noticed. How many years was it never mentioned? Of course, I’d rather have him liking me home for more reasons than I could shake a brush at the toilet. But whatever. I felt bad enough not being overly excited about my return. I just needed time to get acclimated, I hoped.

  “You're welcome. They were atrocious, by the way.”

  He nuzzled into my neck, kissing it softly. His hands wandered down my thigh.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear. “In ways I’d like to show you.”

  I swallowed hard. A snapshot of Tom clicked in my brain. Fooling with that stupid smartphone. Of course it couldn’t be of him kissing me. What kind of sick fantasizer was I?

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  I cleared my throat. This was it. This was placing the wax on the end of the brass plate and sealing the envelope shut. Once I made love to Wesley, I knew there was no going back on my decision to return. Even if I still had the moving van safely tucked at Tom’s house. Might as well call the tow truck and haul my sorry things home now. I wasn’t the type to sleep and run.

  I took the hand that was outstretched to me, beckoning me to consummate our back togetherness. We were almost up the stairs, me with a knot in my stomach and him pulling on me like a stubborn mule, when we heard something on the porch. I stopped first.

  “What is that?”

  He stared at me, waiting for it to make another noise. When it did, he let my hand go and crept back down. Before he could make it to the door, it swung open. I stretched over the banister to see. My nightmare had just begun; it was my sister, Ashley.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ashley switched on the light and set her two bags down on the rug. Wesley just stood there.

  “Well, help her,” I said like a robot.

  Isn’t that what you do when someone is toting bags and looks like they need help? No matter who it is. My mother would shoot me if I did anything other than be nice. Even though Ashley single-handedly screwed me over by sleeping with Wesley before we were married. So what if she didn’t know we were tying the knot? She knew we were living together. Who is she, anyway? My sister or my nemesis?

  “Thanks, Wes.”

  Eww…that drove me crazy. Wes? Really? He’s not her Wes. He’s my Wesley. She moved on, even moved away. She doesn’t get Wes privileges. And just what is she doing here? And with all that baggage?

  “Ashley, what are you doing?”

  “Amy?” She looked up at me as though she’d seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?”

  “Umm…I live here.”

  With her jaw still swinging in the open position, she looked at Wesley. “What’s going on?”

  He rubbed the side of his nose. I hadn’t seen this move in a long time. It was a tell-tale sign he was stuck in a crevice and looking for a way out. Hmm…did he do that often before he split with me? Was I blind to the nose rub before?

  “Amy just moved back in.”

  “Moved back in?” She looked at him and then back at me. “As in, you two are back together, or she’s living here until…”

  “We’re back together.”

  I tried to replay exactly how he said that. We’re back together. Was it like, Unfortunately, we’re back together, or Yeah, that’s right, you little heartbreaker, we’re back together?

  “I didn’t know.”

  “So, I give up. I haven’t spoken with you since last spring. How did you know we weren’t back together? Where have we been if not back together?”

  I was no dummy. Ashley didn’t keep ties with anyone here in the city. It was all about her. And she’d been in California, working on catching a break.

  She looked at Wesley. As if trying to get a quick lowdown of what she could divulge. It started out slow, as if testing the waters of honesty. “I talked to Wesley about a month ago.”

  “It was actually longer ago than that.” He rubbed his nose again.

  Liar.

  “He told me about how he had to move back here, and that’s about all.” She picked up the smaller bag and walked to the sofa.

  “Are these new?” She sat down on one of them.

  “Yes. So you say he had to move back?” I came down from my perch on the stairs. So much for a Marvin Gaye moment. Wesley would be lucky if it didn’t turn out to be a Tina Turner killing Ike moment.

  “I didn’t have to move back. I wanted to,” Wesley almost shouted out.

  Yes, sure, it was all coming back to me. How sad and disturbed he looked coming to my apartment that day. Crying about being broke. Just to think he was on the phone with Ashley, probably dreading the moment he had to set foot back in Portland.

  “Yes, it seems he saw the errors in his ways. How completely stupid it was for him to ever cheat on me, and he came back. To me.” I held my head up while saying it. Take that and put it in your pipe and smoke it, Ashley.

  “Well sure, I told him he’d be an idiot not to try and cash in on his inheritance. His dad was such a jerk.”

  “Huh?” That smoke that was just there, waiting for her, seemed to be getting caught in my airways. Blowing up in my face. Ashley knew about the inheritance? What did they do, Skype every evening?

  “Ashley called me about the time I’d discovered the inheritance clause. Actually, Jeff had told me. I knew nothing about it until then.” He looked at Ashley while he spoke.

  “I thought you were here, working, before Jeff told you.”

  “He was in Nevada, with that no-good hose bag.”

  “What?”

  “Ashley, why don’t you go out in the kitchen and get yourself a drink? Pour me one, too. Amy, hon, do you want one?”

  Hon? “No.”

  Ashley walked out, her eyes larger than her waistline at this moment. Skinny turd.

  “Wesley, you told me you were working back here when Jeff called you in his office.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I was. Ashley doesn’t know anything. Violet had left me and I came back here to get my job back.”

  “You never told me Ashley even called you. Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t think I needed to tell you when Ashley called me.”

  “You’re right.” I straightened my posture and licked my lips. “You don’t. That’s absurd. But I would’ve liked a heads-up when you went to see her the weekend before we got married, just to ask her to take you back one last time.”

  The only noise I could hear at that moment was the heat turning on in the registers. The kitchen area was even silent.

  “What? That was so long ago. I was stupid. How did you even know? I didn’t—”

  “You know, that’s getting to be a canned response of yours. When are you going to smarten up? I mean, the stupid card is worn out. And Ashley is the one who told me. Right before she told me to leave you.”

  I wondered whether his mouth would ever shut; it seemed stuck open. “I’m so sorry you found out about that.”
/>   “Found out? I’m sorry you didn’t tell me. I’m sorry you had to go and ask her. When am I going to be enough for you, Wesley? Will I ever be?”

  “You are enough, Amy. We’re making a new start. This is going to be our greatest year yet.”

  “We still have this one to finish out.”

  I walked toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go out in the kitchen and have that drink? You look like you need it.”

  I have to give it to him; he’s a slow learner, but he’s actively learning. Instead of drinking in the kitchen with Ashley, he followed me up the stairs and waited on the bed until I got out of the shower. No words were exchanged as he went in the steamy room where I just exited. I shook my hair out from my towel and went down the hall to grab my things from the guest room. I found Ashley inside it, pulling things from her suitcases.

  “I need to get my stuff.”

  “It’s none of my business, but were you sleeping in here?”

  “You’re right; it is none of your business.”

  I took my lotion and book from the nightstand.

  “Listen, Amy, if this isn’t a good idea, I can go.”

  I looked around at all her cases. “By the looks of it, Ashley, I’m thinking you have nowhere to go.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “What can I say? I failed. Which probably delights you to no end.”

  “Sure, it delights me that my only sister in the world is destitute and giving up on her dream.”

  “Giving up? You don’t think I tried? You don’t think I’ve been living in a roach motel the last few months, working as anything I can just to pay the desk clerk so I can stay another week? Amy, you make it sound as though I just walked out of there with two legs and my head held high. I had nothing.”

  “You walk out on everything, Ashley. You walked out on college; you walked out on me when I needed you after Mom and Dad died; you walked out on Wesley.”

  She took a deep breath. “I know, Amy. I know.”

  No fight? I couldn’t fight with someone not willing to put up their fists. Was she really broken this time? Who could tell? She did this all the time and she was a trained actress.