The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: Seeking Others

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The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: Seeking Others Page 6

by J. A. Schreckenbach


  Aimee's last class of the day had just ended and she was walking to the parking lot. Her cell phone buzzed. She grabbed it from her backpack and noticed Dad on the screen.

  “Hi, Dad,” she answered.

  “Well, how was your first day of college?”

  “It was good. I like being in college. I think it will be so much more interesting than high school. Anyway, this quarter is gonna be busy now that I'm working, too.”

  “Too busy to come home and see your ol' man and Z Boy?”

  “No, Dad, I'll make it home. Just not sure when. So, has Zonker adjusted yet to me being gone?”

  Dad responded, “He's doing better than me. Still sleeps on your bed, but he's not hanging by the door waiting for you to come home like he did the first few weeks.”

  Aimee teased, “So, are you still waiting by the door?”

  “No, but I catch myself looking out the window when Hannah pulls into the driveway expecting it to be you.”

  “I miss you, too, Dad,” she responded. “Dylan isn't gonna get to come home during football season, not even Thanksgiving, but I'll try to come home one of the weekends they're playing away.”

  “Great. Let me know so Hannah and I are here.”

  She snickered. “You two enjoying being by yourselves?”

  Dad chuckled, then said, “Yeah, we are, but we would love for all of you to come home whenever you can.”

  “Will do, Dad. Hey, I better go. I need to get to work.”

  Dad quickly replied, “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.” Aimee ended the call and stuck the phone back in the pack.

  The past few weeks had been hard. The last mission really messed with her head. She figured the busier she stayed, the more it would keep her mind on something other than the young woman and the two bastards who raped her. She didn't even want to search the Internet for what happened to JC. She should have been happy she saved the woman, but all she wanted to do was forget the mission ever happened.

  The phone suddenly buzzed again. She had just thrown her backpack into the car and dropped into the seat. She grabbed her phone from the pack. DT was on the screen.

  She answered the call. “Hey there, how's your day going?”

  Dylan replied, “Was just gonna ask you the same thing. Mine's been crazy. Good, but definitely busy. Heading to practice now. You going to work?”

  “Yep. I need to grab something quick to eat at home first. Wanna hang out later to study?”

  “Maybe. I'm not sure how long practice is gonna be. I'll call you later.”

  “Hey, let's try to get together this week as much as possible. You're gonna be gone most of this weekend, right?”

  “Yeah. I wish you could come to the game.”

  “Me too, but I can only make it to the home games, Dylan.”

  “I know, but it would be really cool knowing you were in the stands.”

  Aimee sighed. “I'll be cheering you on from Eugene.”

  “Better be,” Dylan answered. “Hey, I gotta go.”

  “Me too. Love you.”

  Dylan replied, “Love you more.”

  The week flew by. Aimee only got to see Dylan once before he left for the game in Washington. Between classes, her work, his practice and games, and her training, their time together whittled to only a few hours here and there. She missed him terribly, and she knew he missed her, too, but he definitely was having more fun without her than she was having without him. Aimee was sitting at home Friday night waiting to hear from Dylan. The Bears were on the road, and he was going to call her when they got to the hotel. Sacha and James had taken over the couch with textbooks spread across the coffee table. The TV was on, but the sound was low while they studied. At 7:15 Aimee wandered into the living room.

  “Whatcha watching?” she asked.

  Without lifting his head from the book on his lap, James replied, “Some old movie about time travel.”

  Sacha had fallen asleep so Aimee sat down in the recliner next to James and watched a few minutes of the movie. James must have been listening without watching because suddenly he started laughing.

  Startled, Aimee asked, “What's so funny?'

  “The movie, Miss Sour Puss. What's wrong, you don't like it?”

  “Yeah, it's all right,” she answered. It was a funny comedy, but of course, total fiction. There wasn't anything funny about real time travel.

  “Well, it's a classic.”

  “I know. I just think it's goofy. No one would time travel like that.”

  James looked up at Aimee. His forehead was scrunched. “Goofy?” he questioned. “Damn, it's all goofy.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Well, the whole concept about time travel, you know. At least this is funny, and not all mushy like those time travel romance novels on the shelves at the bookstore where you work.”

  Aimee bristled. How could her own brother think the idea of time travel was goofy! Hell, he should have been the lucky one cursed with the gift, she fumed. She decided she better get out of the apartment before she said something that she regretted. For the longest, Aimee had so wanted to share her secret with James, but after his “goofy” statement, she figured it was better that he stay in the dark about his sister's gift. Quickly, she got up and headed for her bedroom.

  James hollered at Aimee, “Hey, where are you going? Not gonna watch the movie with me?”

  She grabbed her backpack from her room, her phone, and started to leave. “Nope, I think I'll go to the Koffee Haus and study for a while, and wait for Dylan's call.”

  “All right. See ya later, and just be careful, okay?”

  “I'll be fine, James.”

  Alone in her car, she sighed deeply, then looked into the mirror to check her face. She still had on eye makeup. Her hair was decently brushed. She popped a breath mint into her mouth, then backed out and drove towards campus. She turned on the radio. A love song was on. “Ughhh,” Aimee growled as she flipped off the radio. She really missed Dylan. It seemed like his life didn't include her anymore, or at least that’s what it felt like. They spent almost every minute together during the summer, actually almost every day since they started dating. Being apart was getting old...fast.

  Aimee pulled into the coffee shop's parking lot. It was 7:40. Dylan still hadn't called. She was sure he had been there for hours. She pulled her phone from the pack and hit his number. It rang once, then rolled to voice mail, and she left a rather sweet, “I miss you and love you, and call soon” message, then hung up. A long sigh escaped. She grabbed her backpack and headed inside.

  The girl at the counter knew Aimee. She and Dylan visited a lot, and Aimee always got the same thing. She put her bag on a table close by, then started towards the counter.

  “Let me guess,” she said with a smile, “a caffè latte with a cinnamon scone?”

  Aimee chuckled. “The coffee part is right, but I don't think I want a scone tonight.”

  “All right. Give me a minute and I'll get your coffee.”

  She paid, then stood at the counter waiting for her latte. While Aimee waited a couple of guys, also toting backpacks, came in. Both were cute, but the tall one caught her eye. She watched them head over to the corner couch, set their packs down, and start back towards the counter. The guy with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, tall and lean, like a basketball player, looked her direction. Their eyes met. A big smile spread across his face.

  He stopped a couple feet from where Aimee was waiting and the girl took his order. He paid, then he turned towards her and asked, “Hi, how's it goin’?”

  “Good,” Aimee answered.

  He continued, “My name's Andrew.” He held his hand out and waited for a return shake.

  She took his hand, shook it, and replied, “I'm Aimee. Nice to meet you.”

  Andrew said, “I've noticed you here before, but you're always with that new hotshot quarterback who's gonna take us to another cham
pionship one day.”

  “That would be Dylan.”

  “Boyfriend?” he asked.

  “Yeah, boyfriend.”

  Andrew smiled. “Well, I hope he gets more playtime soon. Seems the times he's been on the field he did better than our regular QB.”

  Aimee smiled and nodded. “He really wants more time on the field.”

  “Here you go,” the barista said and handed Aimee her coffee.

  “Thanks,” Aimee said to her, then she took the cup. “Dylan's out of town so I figured I would get a couple hours of chemistry out of the way. Better than hanging out with my brother and his fiancée.”

  The barista handed his friend his order, then Andrew took his coffee. “You wanna join us over there?” he asked as he pointed to the corner, then took a sip of his drink.

  Aimee hesitated for a second. She thought about how she would feel if Dylan was asked by a couple of girls to come study with them. Andrew must have sensed what she was thinking.

  “No worries. We're just gonna study,” he said with a grin.

  She laughed nervously. “Yeah, well, I appreciate the invite, but I think I'm gonna stick to my corner over here, but maybe next time when you see me here we can study together.”

  Andrew shook his head, then replied, “With your boyfriend, right?”

  She obviously wasn't very skilled with the art of flirting. It felt a little like she was cheating on Dylan just standing here chatting with this really good-looking guy. Aimee awkwardly answered, “Maybe. You never know these days when he'll have time to go out with me.”

  “Well, if you get tired of waiting for him, let me know. I'd make time for you.” He smiled, then turned and walked back over to his corner. He put his coffee on the table, sat down, then looked up at her and smiled again. Aimee nervously returned a smile and quickly took out her chemistry book.

  An hour and half later, Aimee decided she had studied enough. She was getting tired. She picked up her cell phone from the table and checked it. Still no call from Dylan. She sent a quick text that she was leaving for home and she would call when she got there. She hit Send then stuffed the phone back in the bag. Aimee pitched the pack over her shoulder, then started towards the door, but not without one more very intentional, enticing smile from Andrew. Aimee smiled back, then hastily exited.

  After Aimee pulled her Camry into a space at the complex, Dylan's ring tone went off. She tapped the bluetooth and greeted him, “Hey there, finally!”

  Dylan replied wearily, “Sorry. I started to call you a couple hours ago, but got sidetracked.”

  “Sidetracked?”

  “Coach called a conference right when we got here. Afterwards we checked into the hotel and...”

  “It's all right, Dylan. I imagine there's so much going on it's hard to take a few minutes to call.”

  There was silence on both ends for a few seconds. Finally Dylan said, “I'm sorry. I should have called when we pulled in. It's just you get so pumped with everything going on, ya know, the game tomorrow, that's all you think about.”

  “Dylan, really, it's okay. I understand. Heck, I know how you feel now when you call and call, and I don't answer.” She didn't like tension between them. It was time to lighten the topic. “So, are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “Hell yeah,” he enthusiastically answered. “We're gonna kick butt.”

  “Great. I expect no less.” Aimee snickered. “We'll be watching. James has some friends coming over.”

  “Wish you were here. So far we've won all our games, but we can always use more fans when we're on the road, and you're my good luck charm. I know if you're up there watching, I play better.”

  “That's sweet, Dylan, but I'll be watching, just not in the stands.”

  “You better,” he ordered.

  “Call me after the game, and before the victory party, okay?”

  “Will do. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Aimee said, “Mañana. Love you.”

  Dylan replied softly, “I love you more.”

  The next morning, Aimee awoke around seven. She took care of business in the bathroom, downed a large glass of water, threw on her running clothes and shoes, left her route on the dry erase board on the refrigerator, then tucked her key and phone in her running bag and headed out. An hour later, Aimee returned home, sweaty, but feeling energized. James and Sacha were still sleeping when she entered the apartment. After a quick shower, she made a P&J, then took off to work. She had snagged a part-time job at a local used bookstore; a perfect job for a bookworm. Fortunately she had the early shift today so she could get home by the start of the game, which was awesome since she got to see the Bears win. Dylan would be in a great mood when he called.

  About thirty minutes after the game, a couple of James's friends were still at the apartment, but everyone was talking about going out to celebrate later. Home alone, again, Aimee thought, and I always thought college was supposed to be a lot of crazy fun. Being by herself made it too easy to worry about her missions, and the people from those missions, like the soldier in Afghanistan; the woman from Colorado; and especially Joseph Smith. Deep down, Aimee knew there wasn't any way she would ever meet him again, at least not intentionally on her part, but the letter he wrote her before she left England still concerned her for some reason.

  Everyone left around six to go out to eat, then to find victory parties. Aimee grabbed the TV remote and found a movie, a comedy, to keep her mind off the bothersome things in her life. Around 7:30 the phone rang. She whipped it up off the coffee table. DT was calling.

  Aimee answered, “Well, congrats!”

  “Thanks. Did you watch?”

  “Yep, but you didn't get to play.”

  Dylan said flatly, “I know. Really sucks, but I should get some play time again before the end of the season.”

  “That's good. But at least you can't get hurt when you don't play,” she conceded.

  “You sound just like my mom. Football isn't badminton, Aimee. Everyone gets their share of hits out there.”

  Aimee shivered. “I know. It's the sport of modern gladiators...”

  Dylan interrupted, “I thought you liked football?”

  “I don't like to see people hurt playing any sport, but since it's so important to you, it's important to me.”

  Dylan was silent for a few seconds. Finally he said, “Thanks. Football is really important to me. I think I have a good shot at getting drafted. Wouldn't that be totally cool?”

  Aimee had become pretty good at fabricating responses since she started traveling. She didn't like football because of the risk of Dylan getting hurt. But she loved Dylan, and what mattered to him, mattered to her. With a convincing voice, she answered, “That would be awesome, Dylan, as long as I get to be part of your life.”

  “Hell yeah, you're gonna be there with me,” he said. “Oh, tomorrow we're going to a barbecue a couple friends from the team are throwing. Is that all right?”

  “Sounds fun,” she answered with some real excitement. College life so far had been pretty dull. It would be fun to meet some of Dylan's teammates.

  “Okay, good. We're not gonna get home until late, so I'll come by in the morning and we'll go get some breakfast. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great! See you in the morning. Love ya.”

  Dylan quickly answered, “Love you more.”

  Aimee set the phone back on the coffee table and looked at the clock in the kitchen. 8:13 p.m. Her stomach was rumbling. She rummaged through the cabinets and peeked into the refrigerator. They needed to go grocery shopping. It was slim pickins. James's essentials were there: a jug of milk, beer, sandwich meat, cheese, and bread, but nothing exciting, or healthy. I guess I'll go get something to eat, then swing by the store on my way home, Aimee decided.

  Eugene had some really cool, healthy places to eat. Aimee googled one that she had heard good things about, then grabbed her wallet and phone. Ten minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. It was crowded
, which was typical on game nights, even when the Bears were out of town. Aimee walked in and after a few minutes waiting the greeter seated her at a small table by the window. She ordered a Caesar salad and an appetizer of bruschetta. She didn't really like eating by herself, but it was nice getting out of the apartment. She was people-watching when she noticed the couple at the table next to hers. They looked like they were on a romantic date. She felt a twinge of jealousy, except she and Dylan would get to go to breakfast in the morning. Not terribly romantic, but at least they would be together. She sighed.

  Out of the blue, a weird feeling hit, one she couldn't explain, but it felt eerie. She turned around and scanned the room. Her heart stopped! Am I seeing things? But there he was, sitting in the corner, eating by himself with a glass of wine in his hand. No, no, it's not possible! Aimee felt light-headed. She quickly turned her back to him. He didn't see me! she prayed.

  The waitress came by and stopped at her table. Not much had been eaten from her plate. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  Aimee looked up quickly and answered, “Yes, it's good. Really. I just don't think I'm as hungry as I thought I was.”

  “Would you like me to wrap it up to go?” she asked.

  “Uh, yes, that would be great. But, I'm kinda in a hurry.”

  “No problem,”she said as she picked up the plates and put them on her server tray. “I'll be right back.”

  Aimee peeked back over her shoulder. He was turned a little away from her, eating, but he could easily spot her if he looked her way. She couldn't risk it. She grabbed her wallet and threw enough for the dinner and a tip onto the table. Without waiting for her leftovers, she tried to sneak out unnoticed, but the waitress saw her exiting. She hollered and hurried after Aimee with the doggie bag. People around the restaurant looked up from the ruckus the waitress created and Aimee scurrying towards the door. Aimee stopped long enough to snatch the bag and thank her. She pushed past a few people waiting to be seated, then broke into a run to the car. Her hand was on the handle when she heard his voice. She froze. Her breath stuck in her throat.

  “Aimee, is that you?”

  She closed her eyes, swallowed the breath in her throat, and slowly turned around. Aimee opened her eyes and found herself face to face with him. His crystal blue, chick-magnet eyes stared straight into hers. They were more captivating than ever. She felt jittery all the way to her toes.

 

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