The Living Room

by Robert Whitlow

  “Yeah, but Braxton is the cutest little guy. Every time I hear that lisp in his voice, it makes me want to give him a hug and pinch his cheeks.”

  “Is Kim still putting product on his hair?”

  “Oh yeah. It was spiked up a couple of inches when he got in the car. Noah wanted to touch it, but I wouldn’t let him unbuckle his seat belt.”

  Natalie went to the counter to order. Amy drank either a cappuccino or a morning blend of regular coffee if she needed an unflavored jolt of caffeine, but Natalie experimented with different drinks. In a couple of minutes she returned with a clear glass mug filled with light brown liquid topped with foam and unidentifiable sprinkles.

  “What is it today?” Amy asked.

  “Cinnamon dolce latte.”

  “A coffee candy bar.”

  Natalie took a sip. “Yep. No afternoon chocolate for me.”

  Amy and Natalie were sitting at a table for two in the back corner. They sipped their drinks and watched an older couple enter. The man was wearing a black beret and had a thin mustache. The woman’s gray hair was covered with a colorful scarf.

  “You should put that couple in your next novel,” Natalie said in a low voice. “I’m sure they have a story to tell. I mean, how did a man who wears a beret and sports a French mustache end up in a town in eastern North Carolina? And his wife looks like she has a lot of flair.”

  “She sure does.” Amy stared at the couple for a moment. “Natalie, how do you know they’re married? They could be reuniting forty years after first falling in love. They met years ago at a French coffee shop a lot like this place. He was working in Marseilles, and she was an American college student traveling across Europe with a friend. They both ordered a latte and an apricot pastry and realized they had something in common. A halting conversation began. She was limited by two semesters of college French, and he spoke broken English, but they communicated in the way that mattered most—the affairs of the heart. Their first conversation led to long, romantic walks along the Mediterranean. Then an emergency call from home forced the girl to leave without telling him good-bye. They eventually married other people, but now those spouses are dead, and they’ve found each other again. The question is—can the flame of love that burned brightly so long ago be brought back to life?”

  The torrent of Amy’s words suddenly stopped.

  “Keep going,” Natalie said, leaning forward on her elbows. “I’d read that book.”

  “You know how it works with me.” Amy smiled and shook her head. “I can get a running start with ideas like that, but they always hit a wall.”

  “It’s still a cool beginning.”

  Amy touched her heart. “I need something that starts in here. Otherwise I know I’d be wasting my time.”

  Both women took a sip of their drinks.

  “Yeah,” Natalie said. “A Great and Precious Promise wasn’t just a story. It was like a testimony. I thought about Ann Marie and Landon for weeks after I finished the book, and not just because we’re friends. Most people would have placed all the blame for their problems on Landon, which makes sense, but the scene between them was so much more powerful because Ann Marie realized the speck in her eye could be just as blinding as the log in his. It made me think about my relationship with Luke. There are so many self-righteous women who need to—” Natalie suddenly paused. “I’d better quit preaching.”

  “I like your preaching,” Amy said with a smile. “And what you’re saying means the world to me. Even though the characters are made up, their stories can still help real people. That’s why I write.”

  “Oh, and I’ll never read the word ‘covenant’ again without thinking about the book. It gave me chills when you explained what it meant in the Old Testament.” Natalie leaned in closer. “And I can’t wait to get a signed copy of The Everlasting Arms. It was cruel to only let me take a peek at a couple of chapters.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be mean,” Amy apologized. “I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t getting off track with the part about the old boyfriend—”

  “I’m kidding,” Natalie interrupted. “It’s just neat for me to sit here and realize that my best friend is a published author.”

  “Who’s making about half as much writing books as she did typing pleadings at Jones, Barrington, and Phillips.” Amy sighed.

  She told Natalie about the paltry royalty check and the possibility that Megan might have to stop taking dance lessons in January. She didn’t feel comfortable mentioning the health insurance crisis without Jeff’s permission. Natalie listened sympathetically.

  “And I feel like I’m slowly losing contact with Megan,” Amy said. “I know part of it has to do with her age, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “You and Megan are both so talented. I’d think seeing you follow your dream would encourage her to believe that the same thing is possible for her.”

  “It hasn’t worked that way. Last night she wanted to know why it’s more important for the family to sacrifice so I can write than it is for her to dance.”

  “Wow.” Natalie’s eyes widened. “I never could have cooked up such a sophisticated argument to use with my mom. But Megan is so smart that she intimidates me. She’s just like you. I mean, she makes straight A’s without trying.”

  “Maybe, but she’s much more outgoing. And I don’t have any personal experience from my teenage years to draw on in relating to her. I was the quiet, obedient second child trying to make up for the trouble my older brother gave my parents.”

  “I can’t help you out there. I was the spoiled only child.”

  “No you weren’t.”

  “Until Jesus changed me.”

  Amy looked at her friend and felt her emotions rise to the surface. There was such genuine sweetness in Natalie that it nourished Amy’s soul every time the two women got together.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Natalie asked.

  “No.” Amy shook her head. “You always help me remember what’s really important.”

  They stayed at their table and lingered after their coffee cups were empty.

  “Noah was so excited this morning,” Natalie said, reaching for her purse. “His class is going on a field trip to the fire station this afternoon.”

  Natalie’s words banished the pleasant feelings Amy was enjoying. A terrifying image that seemed vaguely familiar flashed across her mind.

  “Are you one of the chaperones?” Amy asked sharply.

  “No, they have plenty of volunteers. I was going to get a manicure. My nails are in terrible shape.”

  “I think you should go on the field trip.”

  “Why?” Natalie gave her a puzzled look.

  Amy shut her eyes for a second, which made the picture in her mind even more vivid.

  “To keep a close watch on Noah,” she said, trying to speak calmly.

  “Amy, what’s going on?” Natalie asked with concern. “Why are you worried about the field trip?”

  Amy took a deep breath.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but when you mentioned the field trip, I remembered something I dreamed last night.” She paused. “I think it involved Noah. He was lying on white pavement beside a big red truck. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted to the side at an odd angle. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but it could have been a fire truck.”

  “And you think this is going to happen?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Amy hid her face in her hands for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  The two women sat in silence. Then Natalie spoke. “I’m going to go on the trip,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

  Amy looked up. “What about your manicure?”

  “That can wait. And I’m going to hold Noah’s hand the whole time.”

  Amy’s stomach was in knots as she drove home. Natalie knew Amy had dreams, but she didn’t know about the living room. Each time Amy had considered sharing her secret with Natalie, she hesitated and the moment passed. Now she had
impulsively dragged Natalie into her unconscious world. Amy wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but that thought made her feel even more uncomfortable.

  Whether true or false, real or imagined, she’d sounded an alarm.

  Amy spent the rest of the morning in an emotional upheaval. She ate a piece of fruit for lunch. Several times she picked up the phone to call Natalie but never completed the call. What would she say? Had anything changed since they’d parted outside the coffee shop?

  At 2:30 p.m., her cell phone rang, and a photo of Natalie appeared. Amy fumbled with the phone and almost dropped it.

  “Hey,” she said as quickly as she could accept the call. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” Natalie responded. “I went on the field trip, and Noah had a great time.”

  Amy leaned against the counter and closed her eyes for a moment in thankfulness. When she opened them, she felt embarrassed.

  “I’m terribly sorry I upset you this morning,” she said. “I guess my imagination got away from me. It was so unnecessary and—”

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions,” Natalie interrupted. “While we were at the station an alarm came in and two trucks had to leave in a hurry. We herded all the kids away from the entrance, but there were a few moments of confusion. If I hadn’t been right beside Noah, he could have turned the wrong way and put himself in danger.”

  Amy wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Natalie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That means I’m glad I was there with Noah. What if something horrible had happened and you hadn’t said anything to me?”

  “I’d want to die,” Amy answered truthfully.

  “Right. Instead, I had a nice field trip with him. He can’t wait for Luke to get home so he can tell him all about it. I’m sure he’ll want to be a fireman now when he grows up.”

  “I still feel weird about the whole situation.”

  “I can’t control your feelings, but I’d rather be warned about a danger that can be avoided than have to pray for a miracle when disaster strikes. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Amy thought for a moment. “Are you going to say anything to Luke about this?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “Please don’t. He might think I’m a nut.”

  “Okay. But thanks again. Even though it was a hard thing to do, it showed me how much you care for me and my family.”

  After the call ended Amy felt as if a big weight had lifted from her shoulders. However, her relief was short-lived. A few minutes later, while folding the laundry, the realization hit her that she might have more dreams rooted in reality.

  “No, no, no!” she spoke loudly as she shook the wrinkles from one of Jeff’s shirts.

  five

  The following afternoon Megan burst into the kitchen shortly after she and Ian got off the school bus. Amy was sitting at the table looking at recipes on her laptop.

  “What are you doing home so early?” Amy asked. “I thought you were going to the pep rally for the football game tomorrow against Loudon County.”

  “I skipped the pep rally,” Megan said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Mr. Ryan asked me to come by his classroom instead. I made the highest grade in the class on a quiz, and he wanted to get to know me better.”

  “Get to know you better? What did he ask you?”

  “Oh, what I’m interested in. Do I like to read? What are my favorite subjects in school?”

  “Did you tell him you loved Ms. Sweeney’s American Literature class?”

  “No way. I told him World History was my favorite subject.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is now. Oh, here’s the coolest thing. When I mentioned that I’ve been dancing for five years, he wanted to know everything about it. He had a student in California who went to the Debbie Allen Academy in Los Angeles.”

  Megan’s enthusiasm for the new teacher made Amy uneasy.

  “Is Mr. Ryan married?” she asked.

  “Uh, I’m not sure, but I didn’t see a wedding ring on his finger.”

  “That’s a sign he isn’t. It’s not smart for you to spend time alone after school with a male teacher.”

  Megan rolled her eyes. “Mom, I’m not dumb and don’t you be stupid.”

  “Watch your words,” Amy shot back.

  “I’m a freshman in high school,” Megan responded without any hint of remorse. “Teachers have meetings with students. You ought to be happy that Mr. Ryan cares about us.”

  “I don’t have any problem with a teacher who supports his students, but I don’t want you to meet with him alone after school.”

  “We were in the classroom.”

  “Was the door open?”

  Megan glared at Amy for a moment, then stormed out of the kitchen without answering. Amy watched her go with a sinking heart. She heard Megan’s bedroom door slam shut.

  Amy was still brooding about the conversation when Jeff came home from work and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

  “I worked on a new project today,” he said. “It’s a renovation of a large two-story brick home on McDonald Street. Do you remember the house with big holly bushes out front and a white gazebo in the side yard?”

  Amy knew the house. It was one of a handful of hundred-year-old homes that hadn’t been swallowed up by the expanding downtown area. Most of the historic estate houses that hadn’t been torn down were now offices. Jones, Barrington, and Phillips had its office in one of the survivors, a mansion formerly occupied by one of the richest families in town.

  “Yes.”

  “Mildred Burris lives there. She must be at least eighty years old. We ordered custom windows that are a match to those already in the house but are much more energy efficient.”

  “She was one of Mr. Phillips’s clients,” Amy said, her mind still on the argument with Megan. “I met her a few times at the office.”

  “Nice lady. Never married. Her father was in the textile business years ago and must have made a lot of money. She and I talked when I was on my lunch break, and she mentioned that she needs someone to clean the house and help her with things she can’t manage on her own. The woman who was working for her moved away, and she hasn’t found a replacement.”

  “What?” Amy suddenly bristled. “Did you tell her I was looking for a domestic job?”

  “Not exactly, but I found out as much as I could about what she needs done. There would probably be times when you wouldn’t have anything to do and could set up your laptop in a spare room and write. There must be at least six bedrooms, and she’s the only person living there.”

  Amy stared at Jeff. She took a deep breath.

  “I can’t think about that right now. I had another argument with Megan.”

  “What happened?”

  Amy told him about Megan’s unsupervised conference with the new World History teacher. Jeff furrowed his forehead.

  “What did the teacher say to her?”

  “Nothing, but she shouldn’t meet in private with a male teacher after school.”

  “We’ve never told her that.”

  “I know, and when I tried to suggest it, she blew up and left the kitchen. That’s been two hours ago, and she’s not left her bedroom since.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” Jeff said.

  “Should we do it together?”

  “That might set her off again.”

  Jeff was right, which made Amy’s opinion of herself as a mother drop another notch. If it went much lower, she’d have to cut a hole in the floor.

  “Okay,” she said. “Can you do it before supper? I hate sitting at the table when the tension is so thick that it’s hard to swallow my food. And please don’t bring up your part-time job idea tonight. I don’t want to think about it.”

  “Sure, but it’s not like you’d have to wear a maid uniform—”

  Somethi
ng about the look in Amy’s eyes stopped Jeff short.

  “I’m on my way upstairs right now,” he said. “Where’s Ian?”

  “He’s been at Bobby’s house all afternoon. I’ll call Nancy and ask her to send him home.”

  Amy hated to come across as a complaining wife. While putting the finishing touches on supper, she resolved to make things right between herself and Jeff before they went to bed. Ian popped through the door.

  “Is Dad in the backyard?”

  “No, he’s upstairs talking to Megan.”

  “Is she in trouble?”

  “No.”

  “Then why is he talking to her?”

  Before Amy answered she heard Jeff’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He entered the kitchen with Megan trailing along behind him.

  “Hi, Dad!” Ian cried out with enthusiasm.

  Father and son faced each other across the kitchen. Their eyes locked and they both crouched down. Suddenly, Jeff leaped forward, grabbed Ian by the ankles, lifted him upside down, flipped him right side up, caught him with his right arm, and deposited him on the floor. Ian laughed.

  “What would you like to drink?” Amy asked Megan.

  “I’ll get it,” Megan replied, her voice less icy than Amy expected. “Dad and I had a good talk. I understand what you meant about Mr. Ryan.”

  “Who’s Mr. Ryan?” Ian asked as he vainly pulled on his father’s right ankle and tried to get him off balance.

  “Megan’s new World History teacher,” Amy replied.

  “I can’t wait to go to high school,” Ian said. “I’ve never had a man teacher.”

  Supper passed without any further problems. Afterward Megan returned to her room. Ian finished his homework and sat on the couch between Jeff and Amy while they watched a nature show about crocodiles on TV. Partway through the show, Ian inched closer to Amy and snuggled up to her. Amy’s heart melted.

  “That was a good show,” she said when it ended.

  “I liked it, too,” Ian said, bounding up from the couch.

  “I didn’t know you loved crocodiles so much,” Jeff said to Amy with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Can I have a snack before getting ready for bed?” Ian asked.