“Yeah, I guess so,” Meghan said. “I’ve had a few friends that split up because of job prospects.”
“Did they get back together?”
Meghan pressed her lips together, clearly reluctant to respond. “Noooo,”
she said, finally, drawing out the word. “No, they didn’t.”
Amelia sighed. “Well, maybe we’ll be the exception. Or maybe we won’t, and then it will be for the best, right?”
“You’ll be fine, no matter what,” Meghan said reassuringly. “Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
“I guess,” Amelia said. “It’s been almost five years since I dated anyone else."
“Well, you don’t have to jump right back in.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Amelia assured her. “I can’t think of anything I want to do less than start trying to date. In fact, the only thing I think I really want to do right now is sleep.”
“You deserve it. You’ve been working nonstop for four years.”
“I suppose I do deserve a bit of a break,” Amelia laughed.
Amelia pushed all thoughts of David out of her head. She would enjoy her day with her friend. She wouldn’t worry about the future. Not yet, anyway.
By the next morning, she was starting to feel better. She made a pot of tea and some toast, and settled in at her desk to begin her job search. Amelia had decided to split the applications as equally as possible between local employers and New York. If she didn’t go to New York with David, she wanted to stay here, where she had friends and a network. Her life had been here for the last eight years after all.
She spent a few hours scrolling through listings, adjusting her cover letter, tweaking her resume, and filling out questionnaires. By lunchtime, she’d sent out twelve applications. Six local, and six in New York City.
She got up and walked to the kitchen to make a sandwich. It was strange for the apartment to be so quiet on a Sunday, and it felt strange to be alone. Usually she and David went out to brunch, went to an exhibition or a movie, and then came home and had lazy, slow, romantic sex. This would be followed by a nap. They’d wake up, forage in the kitchen for something for dinner, and watch their shows on Sunday night. It was her favorite day of the week, and she felt the sudden, sharp ache of loneliness. She didn’t really want to curl up on the couch alone and watch the shows they usually watched together. It had been nice to have the bed all to herself for a couple nights, but she missed their lazy, sex-fueled naps, especially the way David always rolled over in his sleep and curled around her.
It made her wonder all over again if this was the right choice. She hadn’t asked to have to make these decisions, to have her life turned upside down. She’d been comfortable and happy. She felt a flash of anger at David for messing everything up. Why couldn’t he have been okay with how things had been?
Her phone chimed, and she picked it up, glad for something to distract her. It was an email from her stats tutor, Professor Smedley:
Amelia,
I’m not sure what your post-graduation plans are, but a potentially interesting opportunity has come up, and I thought of you. Our department has received a grant for six weeks of research in Scotland, and the topic is similar to that which you worked on for your doctoral research. You focused primarily on the changing economics of American agriculture, and the department grant is funding research on the economics of small livestock farming operations in a rural area of Scotland. It’s fairly rough living for six weeks, and the stipend is modest, but I thought the research topic might interest you. Please let me know soon if this is something that you might want to take advantage of.
Yours, Stuart Smedley.
Amelia set the phone down, her head spinning. She hadn’t expected anything like this and it sounded like a fantastic opportunity. She felt nervous at the idea of living in a remote area for six weeks, but surely she could manage it? In fact, the idea of being cut off from civilization was downright tempting at this point in her life.
Her first instinct was to call David and ask him for his opinion but she squelched that. He hadn't consulted her so why the hell should she take his feelings into consideration?
Amelia sank down onto one of the bar stools at the counter, tapping her fingers against the granite. She’d never been out of the country before. She had a passport, but it was all shiny and unused. The idea of such a long flight made her feel a little queasy but that alone wasn’t a good enough reason to turn down such a great opportunity.
It would look good on her resume. It would give her a breather from everything, give her space to think, to really be alone without David's influence. Also, without the noise of her friends trying to convince her this way and that. It would be an adventure like nothing she’d ever done on her own before. It would be an accomplishment.
She picked up the phone, and hit reply.
Chapter 4
Six months Later
Amelia's alarm cut through the 3 a.m. darkness like a knife through butter. She briefly considered turning it off, rolling over, and forgetting the whole thing entirely. What on earth had made her think that running off to remote Scotland for six weeks was a good idea? She was meant to be considering her future, applying for jobs, and making important life decisions. She was not meant to be gallivanting around a foreign country, and interviewing farmers. Besides, it was the middle of December and it was going to be cold!
It was also only a week off Christmas and it suddenly dawned on Amelia just how different this one was going to be. She was on her own again!
Well, if I'm going to be alone, I'm not going to be alone here!
She pushed the covers back and swung out of bed, reaching for the leggings and sweater that she’d laid out the night before. Everything was neatly packed and waiting by the door—a suitcase to check, a small carryon and her laptop bag. She’d always been proud of being a light packer. She pulled on her heavy parka, glad not to have had to try to stuff it into her suitcase, and jammed her feet into her snow boots. They’d likely be a bit too warm on the plane, but she could always get away with stashing them in the overhead with her luggage and putting on slippers from her carryon. She knew she would need them once she got to Scotland.
The weather forecast was downright awful. The whole country was going to be gripped by bitingly cold weather, wind, and a lot of snow for the foreseeable future. Amelia was used to Chicago weather so was no stranger to harsh winters but, by all accounts, she was heading into something very bad even by Great Lakes standards.
Her professor had suggested that if the trip went well, there might be a second grant for a trip to see the spring operations. Amelia had been warned again that the conditions were very rustic, and she tried not to worry too much even though she wasn’t exactly used to roughing it.
The first leg of her flight was to New York. Amelia tried not to think about the irony as she settled in to her seat on the plane, putting in her earplugs and hoping that she might get some sleep. The plane was scheduled to take off at five-thirty in the morning, and she was already feeling the effects of the three ‘o’clock wakeup.
“How long will we have to wait?” Amelia asked the gate attendant. News of the flight delay due to bad weather wasn’t making her feel any better about the rest of the trip.
“I’m not sure,” the gate attendant said, clicking away at her computer screen. “Once the weather patterns become more predictable, they’ll let us know. If it’s overnight, we’ll put you up in a hotel.”
Amelia briefly considered booking a flight back home. Maybe this was a sign that she wasn’t supposed to be doing this, that it was a foolish idea.
She took a seat in the waiting area, leaned back and let out a long sigh. Christmas carols were playing throughout the airport, and she thought of her undecorated apartment. The cloud that settled over her with that thought was enough to make up her mind. She wasn’t going home. She’d just have to tough the Scotland adventure out.
Eventually the gate attendant announced that
the flight was delayed until the next morning, and that they’d give the passengers food and hotel vouchers. Amelia tried to be gracious when she picked hers up, but she felt like yelling. The longer that they were delayed, the more the knot in the pit of her stomach, along with her doubt, grew. On the Uber ride to the hotel, her phone chimed, and she saw that it was a message from David.
In Scotland yet?
After some procrastination, she’d called him to let him know what her plans were. She’d waited until the last minute to tell him, not wanting to take the chance that he might try to talk her out of it. They had remained on cordial terms despite everything and she suspected that he hadn't written off the idea of them getting back together again. Amelia told herself that it was over for good, but she still wasn't completely sure that was the case.
She tapped her thumbnail against the phone screen, wondering if she should bother replying. She felt a small rush of satisfaction at the thought of making him wait for a response. He’d probably be packing up for his own move tonight. He was due to start at his new job on Monday. The firm had allowed him a six-month sabbatical to decompress from his college years. Amelia almost laughed out loud at the level of privilege that signified.
She put her phone back into her bag.
It wasn’t until she was settled into the hotel, and had taken a bath and was curled up on the bed in a terrycloth robe that she pulled her phone out again, and typed out a quick response.
Flight delayed. Overnight in Manhattan.
She put her phone down and aimlessly clicked through some cable channels. Twenty minutes later the text came in. Let me know if you’re delayed any longer. I’ll be in the city day after tomorrow.
I don’t think it will be delayed past tomorrow. Do you really think it would be a good idea to see each other?
Probably not but I miss you.
Her heart skipped a beat. He missed her. Was he feeling the same sense of oddness and loneliness that she was?
She hesitated for a moment before typing: I miss you, too
The phone chimed within seconds of her hitting send.
That’s good to know. Any word on jobs????
Not yet, she replied. I’ll let you know once I decide. More worried about getting to Scotland in one piece right now.
You’ll be fine. Let me know when you arrive.
Will do. The messaging was making her want to turn around and go back home, to pack up her things and move to New York with him, to be with him. Deep down though, she knew that she was doing the right thing.
Good night, Mel.
She put her phone on the nightstand and changed into her pajamas, wondering if he would text her again. He didn't.
Chapter 5
It was cold! The wind cut through her like a knife the moment she stepped onto the Edinburgh tarmac.
She hailed a taxi to go to the bus station. She still had a bus ride out to the countryside, and then another taxi ride to the house in the village of Dalwally, population seven hundred and twenty four and some sheep. Exhaustion from the long journey was setting in and she wondered if she’d be able to catch a nap on the bus.
The bus ride was bumpy and noisy. She put her earphones in again, scrolling through her music for a relaxing playlist. The bus wasn’t heated, and she snuggled down into her parka and pulled her scarf up around her chin.
It was three in the afternoon when they arrived at the last stop, and it was already starting to get dark. Luckily there was no wait for a cab.
“You’re going way out there, aren’t you, lassie?” the elderly driver said, his accent broad and thick. He was bundled up to his ears, his thick beard springing out of multiple coils of a scarf that looked hand-knitted.
“Yeah,” Amelia said, shoving her carryon and bag to one side as she settled into the taxi.
“And you’re on your own?”
“Research project,” she said by way of an explanation. “Only enough of a grant for one researcher, I’m afraid!”
The wind was starting to kick up outside as they pulled up in front of the house. It was small, and about a half mile away from the pub that they’d passed.
“How far is it to the next farm?” Amelia asked.
“About a quarter mile or so.”
“Thanks,” she said, grabbing her bag.
“Good luck, lass. Try not to freeze out here.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Amelia said with a bright smile, trying not to show her nerves. It was rapidly getting darker, and the wind was blowing hard. She pulled her suitcase out of the trunk of the taxi, and walked down the pathway to the small house.
She flipped the light switch inside of the door, and the bare lightbulb in the living room flickered reluctantly to life.
The living room had a large stone fireplace at one end, with an old couch upholstered in a toile pattern in front of it and a large wing chair to one side. To the left, she could see a bed through the partially open door, and there was a doorway directly in front of her, which led to the kitchen. She left her luggage in the living room and walked into the next room. There was an old refrigerator and a gas stove, and a small table with two chairs. The accommodation was spartan to put it mildly.
At least the refrigerator was stocked with eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables and some meat. There was bread and apples on the counter, along with a note.
Hi Amelia,
Here’s some food for your first few days. There’s a deep freezer out back with more meat. There’s also a pub, The Moose and Thistle, about a half-mile’s walk from here if you don’t want to cook. The stove is inclined to be a bit temperamental at times. If you need anything, I live at Donningbrook, the third farm due north of here, I’m the caretaker for this house when no one is staying here. If the electricity goes out, there’s an oil lamp in the living room and plenty of candles.
My phone: 0131 496 0710
-John
As tired as Amelia was she was also ravenous. She opened the door of the gas stove, and attempted to light the pilot light. It flickered briefly and died. She tried again without luck and sniffed to make sure that there was no smell of gas. She was fast beginning to realizing that she was not a natural at the rustic lifestyle.
After twenty minutes of failure her stomach was growling, and her head was starting to ache. The pub down the street was gaining in appeal by the second, even if it was a half-mile away. Amelia gave the stove one last chance to redeem itself before tossing the lighter down and calling it quits.
She grabbed the flashlight, pulled on her scarf, beanie and mittens, and headed out into the biting wind.
The hand-painted, creaking sign showed a cartoon moose with an oversized thistle in its mouth. The wind almost ripped the door out of her hand when she opened it, and it slammed behind her as soon as she stepped inside. The four customers in the small bar area all looked up at once. Amelia was certain that if her face hadn’t already been red from the wind, it would now be on fire from embarrassment.
The small room was cozy and warm, with a handful of booths and tables and a large wood and stone bar. A huge fire was roaring at one end of the room, and Amelia gratefully took off her coat and gloves, and took a seat at the bar.
There was no one serving, and she looked around for a few seconds, wondering where the bartender was. Just as she was starting to wonder if she was going to strike out on dinner for a second time that evening, the door behind the bar pushed open and a man appeared.
He looked to be in his late twenties, was a little over six feet tall, and had shoulder-length dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt over a grey t-shirt, rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. Not bad, not bad at all. Amelia attempted a smile.
He handed the plate he was holding to one of the men at the bar, then walked over to where Amelia was sitting. He was even more physically imposing up close. He smiled at her, and she immediately noticed how blue his eyes were. “You're not from around here.”
&nb
sp; “I just arrived,” Amelia said, blinking at him. It was hard to focus with him so close to her, and she took a deep breath. Get it together, she thought. Are you really this susceptible to a handsome face and a cute accent? “I’m on a research project for my university.”
“Sounds interesting. Care for a beer?”
“Um, sure.” Amelia glanced at the taps. “Whatever you recommend. Are you still serving food? I’m starving.”
“Sure,” he said, pulling a laminated sheet of paper out from under the bar and handing it to her. “I’ll get that beer for you.”
He came back with a glass full of a dark liquid, and Amelia took a sip. She was a wine drinker by choice, but didn't want to appear rude.
“Good?” he asked, flashing that smile at her again. She nodded enthusiastically, taking another larger mouthful.
“So where are you from?” He leaned against the bar again in front of her, and she felt a sudden, unexpected flutter of delight.
“Chicago, I'm here on a research project.”
“What is there to research, all the way out here?”
“We’re studying the economic patterns of small livestock farmers. I'm an economist.”
An odd look crossed his face, and then he smiled at her. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, then.” He tapped a finger against the menu. “I recommend the shepherd’s pie. In fact, it’s the only thing on the menu that I would eat to be honest.”
Amelia laughed, feeling some of the tension of the day leave her. “Alright then, that’s what I’ll have.”
“Good choice.” He winked at her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
She sipped her beer and glanced around the small pub. Two of the customers were playing chess while another was reading a newspaper. The latter had a pipe hanging out of one side of his mouth. The last was staring down at his half empty pint glass on the bar, lost in thought.
The handsome bartender was busying cleaning glasses giving Amelia the chance to look at him unobserved. He was muscular, but not in the artificial way that came from pumping iron in the gym. He looked as if he spent most of his time outside in the elements. Amelia didn’t realize how hard she was staring until he turned unexpectedly, and caught her eye. He smirked, and Amelia flushed bright red.
Three if by SeaMMF Bisexual Romance Page 3
