Finding Amy

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Finding Amy Page 6

by Carol Steward


  She moussed her hair and left it to dry naturally, which wouldn’t take long with the temperature in the eighties already. Though she hadn’t minded going curly to avoid the pain from styling her hair, she looked forward to letting it grow longer and straight again. Jessica stretched, careful to avoid the hot spots of pain in her back.

  “Hi, Mommy.”

  Jessica turned. “Morning, Sunshine.” She knelt carefully to hug Amy, placing a hand on the door frame for support. “How are you this morning?” Jessica reached for Amy’s hairbrush.

  Amy’s pigtails were unevenly frayed, the ribbons barely hanging onto the baby-fine hair. “Happy. Where’s Day-ee?”

  Jessica cringed. So, she hadn’t been imagining that part of the previous evening. “You mean Sam?”

  Amy nodded. “Where’s him?”

  “Sam is probably on his way to his job. And we need to get going to the shelter. Do you want to play with your friends today?” Amy rubbed her eyes, nodding as Jessica led the way to Amy’s bedroom. This morning she wasn’t up to explaining to Amy that Sam wasn’t her daddy, nor would he ever be.

  Jessica was puzzled to find Amy’s baby-doll pajamas had been put on backward, then remembered how proud Amy had been to do it herself. Thinking about Sam Vance taking care of her daughter, Jessica felt uncommonly at ease, something as foreign to her as life without pain. Sam seemed to enjoy children. Though she’d been annoyed at the time, she was impressed with how much he knew about raising kids. If and when she married again, a good father would have to be a top priority. Amy obviously knew what a daddy was, and that she wanted one of her own.

  Three out of the four men she’d considered dating since her husband’s death wanted nothing to do with children. The other had joint custody of five kids, and claimed he wanted more. He was a junior executive of a law firm, but Jessica was less than tempted to date any man when it included mothering a “yours, mine, and ours” family of such magnitude, no matter his prestige. She had just started her life over, along with a rewarding career. She wasn’t ready to give it all up for full-time motherhood to a hockey team in the making.

  But when it came to Sam Vance, she wasn’t so sure. He seemed too… She thought awhile, trying to find just the right word to describe him. Too…sure of himself. Not only did he have good looks and intelligence, but he was a cop and a member of the church choir. She couldn’t have much less in common with any man. While she owed him a debt of gratitude for saving Amy from the cold and snowy field that night, his investigation had also left her in fear that she’d lose Amy for something her husband did.

  And, as if she needed any other reasons to avoid a relationship with Sam, all she had to imagine was him standing in front of the sanctuary, singing. The last time she’d been inside a church was nearly a decade ago, and the only reason she’d gone then was to make her parents quit bugging her. Even after she’d married Tim, the only times she’d turned to God, He hadn’t listened.

  “Nope, I don’t need someone else nagging me to go to church,” she whispered. Too bad, she thought. Sam’s kisses were almost enough to get her to change her mind.

  After brushing Amy’s teeth, they walked to the shelter and greeted the security officer as he opened the gates. Jessica walked past the colorful quilt in the common room, hoping one day to have time to admire the hours the artist had put into it. She checked Amy into the child-care room. The lead teacher, Deanne Jones, greeted each child, making sure everyone signed in.

  “Good morning, Amy. How are you and Barney today?” Deanne teased, while Amy giggled. “His name’s not Barney either? What could your bear’s name be?” Deanne had asked Jessica to leave the secret between them, hoping the precious bear might be the catalyst to Amy opening up. Two months later, the game continued.

  Jessica hung Amy’s backpack on her hook and completed the check-in sheet. “I have to hand it to you, Deanne, you have the patience of a saint.”

  “One of these days she’s going to talk up a storm.” Deanne lifted Amy into her arms and snuggled her the way Jessica longed to do. “How was dinner last night?”

  Jessica held on to the hope that a month from now, she’d be the one holding her daughter. “If I were feeling better, even I might get a laugh out of the disasters.”

  “Plural?”

  Jessica nodded carefully. “Oh, Amy was a pill. Sam asked her to say please and she had a tantrum. I picked her up and took her to the truck, and threw my back out completely this time. I think the disk has finally ruptured. I woke this morning with little recollection of last night, but it’s slowly coming back to me.”

  “Only two more days and it’ll all be over with.”

  They talked for a few more minutes before Jessica made her way next door to the administrative offices. For a change, Jessica was relieved not to meet up with anyone.

  Jessica turned the computer on and sat down gingerly, gathering information for the auction. It didn’t take more than a few minutes to realize that sitting was not going to work. Though she had hoped to avoid it, Jessica picked up the phone and called the doctor. His nurse took a message and agreed to have him return her call right away.

  In the meantime, she stacked books on her desk and placed the computer keyboard on top of it. Flipping through her notes, Jessica reviewed plans for the bachelor auction, gaining excitement for the first fundraising event for the shelter. Donations had been so generous that she already had a jump-start for future events.

  Susan, the spunky director, stepped into the room, looking at Jessica as if she were standing on her head. “What are you doing, girl?”

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” Jessica wanted to get this done, just in case the doctor changed the schedule. “I’m finishing my notes on the auction for Colleen Montgomery. She agreed to run a feature. I’ve included a short bio on our bachelors, a picture, and a little blurb about their dream dates. We have a meeting this afternoon to set up the publicity, which she’ll run the week before the event. Any last-minute requests?”

  “As usual, you’re on top of everything. But I was referring to the interesting desk arrangement, not your work status.” Susan placed a hand on her hip. “Your back must be getting worse.”

  Jessica explained what had happened during dinner. “I’m in no hurry to see Sam Vance again.”

  “What a shame. Lidia will be so disappointed. She had such delicious dreams for the two of you.” Susan waggled her eyebrows.

  “I’m sure Lidia can find her son a more suitable date.” Jessica felt her face warm simply thinking of how one thing after another had gone wrong. She’d been so embarrassed by the time they got to her apartment, she couldn’t wait to take her medicine, hoping that when she woke this morning it would seem like a nightmare rather than reality.

  Susan swiped her hand through the air, dismissing the subject. “Would you like me to find you a different chair?”

  Jessica shook her head. “No, thanks. Unless this is a problem…”

  Susan laughed, her springy hair bobbing. “It’s fine with me, but you look miserable.” She wrinkled her brow and gave Jessica an “I don’t believe you” glare.

  “I am, but I’ve called the doctor. I’m sure he’ll tell me that he can’t do anything until Thursday, as scheduled.” Pain shot into her arm and through her right leg and Jessica reached for the desk to balance herself.

  Susan’s face showed her concern. “Surely he doesn’t recommend you stand up all day!” With one hand on her hip and her head tipped, Susan may as well be scolding her six-year-old daughters.

  Jessica laughed. “That look may scare the stuffing out of the twins, but it won’t work on me. I need to finish this and get it to Colleen.”

  “I will call her myself and reschedule if necessary. You are to get home and into bed, you understand?” Susan pointed her finger at Jessica.

  Jessica laughed despite the pain. She had enjoyed getting to know Susan. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s better, Miss Jessica,” Susa
n teased. “I’ll bring Amy over after work, along with something for supper. What sounds good—pizza, burgers, Chinese…”

  “Why don’t I order something to be delivered? You’ll have your hands full with the girls, and I’m tired of feeling like a charity case. I’ll buy. No arguments.”

  Susan smiled sympathetically. “One extra child is nothing to a mother of twins, Jessica, but if it will make you feel better to buy dinner, okay.” She and Susan settled on a menu for supper.

  “Thanks, Susan.” Jessica appreciated Susan’s continued trust and support. She hadn’t had the energy to argue with Sam about the dinner bill the night before, but she would make sure to return the favor somehow. For the past sixteen months she’d been on the receiving end. She wanted not only to be self-sufficient again, but to give back what others had given her. Her job at Galilee Women’s Shelter was only the start.

  Jessica found the missing folder of attractions that she’d needed to review with Sam. She looked at his note again.

  Morning at the zoo, afternoon fishing and/or hiking, picnic in the mountains, drive home, drop Amy off at my parents, then a quiet dinner for two at The Ore Cart…as soon as your back feels better…no need to wait for the auction…I’ll call you later to see how you’re doing. Sam

  Jessica set the note aside. After last night, she wasn’t sure she could even face him again, especially for an entire day with Amy. That was a long way off anyway, after recovery from surgery.

  Jessica pulled her attention back to work. She guessed he must like the mountains, and chose an outdoor excursion package for him and an undisclosed date guaranteed not to be Jessica Mathers. Jessica finished the outline and stopped by the children’s room. She peeked inside so as not to get Amy’s attention. The last thing she needed today was an upset child.

  Amy was watching the other children arguing over the kitchen and backed away. Deanne looked up long enough for Jessica to catch her attention, then said, “Chelsea and Zach, time-out! I’ll be right back to deal with you.” She stepped out of the room to visit with Jessica.

  “Susan has ordered me to get to bed. She’ll bring Amy to my house when she picks Hannah and Sarah up after work.”

  “Don’t worry about her, she’s in loving hands. If the doctor needs to move your surgery, just let me know. I’m available.”

  “Thanks. Call if you need anything,” Jessica whispered. “Have a good day.”

  Jessica walked home, frightened by the amount of pain she was feeling. She called the doctor again, disappointed to discover he would be in surgery all day. By the time she had explained the situation to the nurse, she could barely stand.

  “The doctor is booked today, Jessica. Take a muscle relaxant and put ice on it. I’ll call you back in a couple hours to see how it’s doing.”

  Jessica did as instructed, and didn’t wake until almost five. By then the nurse was frantic. “The doctor wants to see you tomorrow morning.” Jessica was instructed to eat a light dinner and nothing after midnight, just in case they went in for surgery right away.

  Jessica called Deanne and changed their arrangements, then ordered Chinese food, which arrived right after Susan and the children. While they ate, Jessica voiced her fear of something going wrong. “If something happens—” Jessica handed Susan a sealed envelope “—my parents live in Italy, so my brother would be the first to get here—”

  “Nothing is going to happen, Jessica.” Susan tried to hand the envelope back.

  “Hang on to it, just in case. You can return it after I’m home.” She forced a smile.

  Susan set her hands in her lap, keeping the envelope. “I’m only keeping this so you’ll relax. Let’s say a prayer.” Susan offered her hand. “Girls, come help me ask God to take care of Jessica tomorrow and allow this surgery to heal her back.”

  Jessica didn’t know how to respond. She’d never had anyone pray specifically for her before. She hated to tell Susan that beckoning God’s protection on her behalf was a waste of time. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe He answered prayers. It was simply that He didn’t answer her prayers. God hadn’t kept Tim from drinking or getting out of control. He hadn’t saved Tim when that final moment came. And she didn’t expect to ever be fully cured of her pain.

  Chapter Seven

  Sam stopped at his parents’ house, wishing he could make it an early night. After staying so late at Jessica’s and continuing the investigation after her emergency, he was exhausted. “Smells wonderful in here. What’s the occasion?” Sam sniffed the garlic and seasonings of not one, but several of his favorite meals.

  “I’m just making a few meals to take to Jessica Mathers when she comes home from the hospital.”

  His mother explained Jessica’s surgery in full detail, as if she thought Sam didn’t remember. “All of this is for her?”

  Lidia lifted a pot from the gas stove and poured pasta into a colander in the sink. “Well…yes. I’ve done them in lunch-or dinner-size portions so she won’t have to worry about preparing meals for a while. Jessica seems to think she’ll be able to do anything the instant this surgery is over. I have news for her…”

  Mom continued to lecture, which made Sam laugh. Most people would take one meal to a family. Only his mother would stock the freezer for a month. “I didn’t know you and Jessica are that close.”

  Lidia smiled. “I didn’t know you cared. Yes, I admire Jessica very much. She’s a darling woman.” Her brows furrowed. “If only I could get her to come to church. I think she’d like Good Shepherd, don’t you?”

  “It’s a little hard to say, because I’m biased. I think everyone should like my choice of church.” He hadn’t realized Jessica didn’t attend somewhere. Maybe he’d misunderstood his mom. But far be it from him to ask her to clarify.

  “What did you think of Jessica?”

  Sam leaned over the stove and took a spoonful of her special marinara sauce, catching a glimpse into the dining room where the mahogany table had been converted to a pasta-drying factory. Strings of pasta dangled from the wooden racks with fans blowing so they would dry faster. “You even made fresh ravioli and angel hair pasta?” He stood straight, casually draping his arm around his mother’s shoulders. “Do I smell chicken cacciatore?”

  “Tsk, tsk.” His mother shooed him away with her wooden spoon. “This is for Jessica. You are not going to sweet-talk me into giving you her meals.”

  “Aw, come on, there’s enough food here to feed the entire family. There’s no way she and Amy can eat all of this alone!”

  “You know Amy, too?”

  Sam was busted. “I was the first on scene at their accident. Jessica reminded me of her daughter when you introduced us at the Broadmoor.” He hoped that satisfied her curiosity.

  Max walked into the kitchen. “Evening, Sam. You have choir practice tonight?” His mother turned to kiss his dad, and Sam reached for the spoon. Her small but mighty hand slapped his away.

  Sam felt the agony of defeat. “Yeah, at seven.” Before his dad had retired, Sam could have sweet-talked his mother into fixing him a ten-course dinner if he’d been so inclined. Now that Dad was home for good, Mom wasn’t so free with her time. Sam couldn’t be happier than to see them both enjoying one another’s company. The entire family had worried about how they would adjust to his retirement. Sam checked his watch.

  “So what’s new with you, Dad?”

  “I learned to make pasta, after thirty-five years of marriage to this Italian goddess.” His dad nuzzled his mother as if they were newlyweds.

  “Thirty-seven years,” Lidia interjected. “It’s your father’s fault we have so much extra.”

  Sam laughed. “Maybe I’d better make sure it’s safe to give a sick woman.” He reached for the ravioli, not totally surprised by the wooden spoon that loomed over the tray.

  “Maybe you’d like to deliver it to Jessica one evening?”

  He shook his head and groaned. “Don’t you ever give up? I’m thirty-two, you don’t have to find me
dates like I’m a shy high school kid.”

  His mother turned off the stove and wiped her hands on her apron. “There’s nothing wrong with being shy, Sammy. You have a heart of gold.”

  “Jessica is the brunette your mother introduced you to at Adam’s engagement party, in case you’ve forgotten her already,” his dad added.

  “A Vance never forgets.”

  “That’s a relief.” His dad smiled. “At your age, you shouldn’t be letting a good-looking lady like her get away.”

  Sam gave up and laughed. “At my age? I have news for you, Dad…” Sam thought better than to argue with his dad. Maxwell Vance didn’t give up on any case, whether it be finding a terrorist network or finding spouses for his children.

  “What’s this big news?” Max’s bushy eyebrows lifted.

  Sam shook his head. His dad may be retired, but he didn’t look a day over forty. And Sam still respected and looked up to him as much now as he had when he was ten. “When I find the right woman, I’ll get married. Not until then. Wherever she is, she’s worth waiting for.”

  Sam had left messages on Jessica’s voice mail at work and at home. She still hadn’t called him back, but the director of the shelter had assured him she was among the living. He could only presume the attraction wasn’t mutual and that Jessica didn’t want to see him again.

  His dad squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “That she is, son. That she is.”

  Sam looked at the foil pans lined up along the tiled counter. Some were already covered, sealed and labeled.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, could you take these to the freezer for me?” His mother stacked containers on a cookie sheet and handed it to him.

  “You’re serious?” He looked longingly at his mother’s chicken cacciatore simmering in the pan and licked his lips.

  “I certainly am.” She looked at the pendulum clock and jumped. “Goodness, where did the day go? You need to get to choir, and we haven’t even eaten. Max, get the tuna salad from the refrigerator. Sam—”

 

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