Leaving Amy (Amy #2) (20 page)

I grabbed a banana off the counter and peeled it.

“No. Nothing was wrong.”

“Amy, I know when something’s wrong with you. I make it my job to know when this happens.”

And that was the problem. Why did he make it his job? No one else did. I never advertised for someone to fill this position. Tom needed to concentrate on his law practice and litigating everyone else’s problems.

“Tom, nothing’s wrong. It’s all falling into place. I went out with Wesley, Jeff and Margaret stopped by our table, he told Wesley he was arranging for Wesley to go off somewhere to pass the bar, and I’m to go to the foundation to get my duties later this week from Margaret.” I took a small bite of the banana and pushed it to the side of my mouth. “Everything is on course.”

“You make it sound like a flight plan, Amy.”

“It is, in a way. Now why didn’t you tell me how gorgeous Kate was?”
Way to channel back the good ol
’
days where it was simple to be friends with this man!
It’s always easier when one of us is taken. Or now so it seems.

He squinted, taking a sip of the steaming coffee. After he swallowed, he said, “It didn’t come up in conversation.”

Then he thought she was gorgeous?
Breathe, Amy
. This is your best friend. Of course you want him with someone gorgeous. Someone to make him apple pies so he doesn’t starve; someone to make him happy and be with so he’s not alone.

“Well, she certainly is.”
And let
’
s not mention she
’
s Tom
’
s age.
They could reminisce on the Woodstock era, whereas I’d be like, Snoopy and Woodstock?

“She said you were lovely as well.”

“That was kind of her.” I looked at the clock on the stove and then down at my watch to make sure they matched. “Well, I have to go. I hope traffic isn’t bad.” I grabbed my water bottle and began to walk away.

“Amy…”

I turned around.

“Have a nice day.”

I looked at that tall, handsome man. Standing there in his three-piece blue suit. White shirt pressed professionally, wearing that red tie. His eyes were made for breaking hearts. I could hear mine shatter inside me.

I was busy not working that morning when Sonja came in and fell into the chair opposite my desk.

“Amy, I’m in love!”

I was shocked. This was Sonja saying this. The lady who didn’t usually get the name of the guy before she let him take her to bed. She could only describe him based on height, eye color, and other sordid details.

“In love? You?”

“Oh my Lord, yes! This is it, Amy. If he asked me today to marry him, I’d trade in my black book and drag him to the chapel.”

She had my attention. I leaned back in my chair. “You don’t say. What’s his name?”

I waited for the sound of crickets. Sonja had been in love before without getting pertinent facts.

“His name is John Turner. He’s got brown eyes, the best smile you’ve laid eyes on, a tiny tattoo over his right nipple that says ‘love resides here,’ and the strongest hands I’ve ever felt rubbing against my thighs.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay, I don’t think I need to know that kind of information. And isn’t your heart under the left nip— Anyway, so you’re in love?”

“It’s more than love. I don’t know what it is, girl. Have you ever just been sitting there at the stoplight or at your computer and all you see is his face? And the thought of seeing him again makes you kind of shiver. Like eating a lemon after a shot of tequila?”

“You had me until the lemon thing. I’ve never tasted tequila. Although I can imagine a lemon after anything would be quite tart, therefore eliciting a shiver.”

“Okay.” She scrunched up her nose. “Well, trust me, love feels different. It’s more than anything else. I feel alive when I’m with him. I’m not staring at him through dinner and wondering what I’ll wear the next day, or how I’m getting my hair cut at the next appointment. I’m actually envisioning myself with this guy for the rest of my life.” She scooted up on the chair. “Do you know he actually pulls out my chair before I sit, and he opens my car door?”

“That is something for sure. Not many guys do that.”
Of course, Tom did.

She stood. “Why didn’t you all tell me this is what it was like to be married? I always looked at you and Rosa, no offense…” she touched my arm, “as a little bit pathetic.” She held up two fingers, as if to measure how small of a pathetic we were. “You know, you never really acted like you were exactly thrilled about the whole thing. I felt like you were in pain sometimes. Now, Paige and Flo…” She put her finger to her mouth. “They could’ve convinced me different.” She hit the desk. “Anyway, I just wanted to come in and tell you. Girl, I woulda been looking for this before now if I’d known.”

After she shut my door, I looked at my computer screen. That isn’t what being married felt like. Should someone tell her the truth? Although I did remember seeing Paige a few weeks ago at lunch. Her husband had surprised her and took her out. She came back looking happier than when she left. How dare she. Giving false perceptions to poor Sonja. Marriage wasn’t at all like that. It was about endurance. You had to get up every morning and do your push-ups, pull-ups and leg lunges. Marriage wasn’t a sprint; it was a long marathon. Smiling through his silent farts and pretending you didn’t smell rot and then gritting when he forgot your birthday again was the worst type of warm-ups I could imagine.

I was beginning to get my mind back on my job when another knock came. This time it was a large bouquet of white roses that appeared.

“Look who got flowers.” Sonja handed them over to me.

My heart flipped. I won’t say who I wanted them to be from, but I closed my eyes as I sat them down and grabbed the card.

“You see, Amy. Love is in the air!” She pulled the door shut.

I took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

I hope this cheers you up, Tom.

Oh my Lord!
That man needed to stop being so…being so…nice. And caring. And gentleman-like. And overstepping the line. I warned him. If he only tried, then I wouldn’t be staring at my computer and thinking about
him
.
Just keep all that good stuff to yourself, Tom McTavish.
But no, he didn’t follow directions well at all. I should’ve just found another apartment. Then Tom and I could’ve continued going out every other weekend and whatever. Appearing at charity events with him so he wouldn’t be bored, or seeing the opening movie down at the theater and grabbing coffee at the bistro before returning home. But now without Mark being my love interest and living under the same roof again with Tom, I was open season to any type of affection he could throw at me. Lately, without the obstacles of Mark, my defenses seemed to be weakened.

I picked up the phone and pressed his picture. I waited for him to pick up.

“Tom?” I said when the phone stopped ringing.

“Amy?”

“Yes. I just got your flowers. Thank you.”

“You won’t admit it, but something’s wrong. I hope they cheer you up.”

I looked up at the ceiling. I never expected to feel what I was feeling for him. All of his attention, and his white tee shirts, and those come-hither eyes. He made it so easy to fall for him.

“Tom, do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” I banged my head with my free hand. I could hear the match strike. Playing with fire never led to anything other than burning down houses. Nice, uncomplicated houses.

“I’d love to. I’ll pick you up.”

“Tom, we live together.”

“I know, but I’ll pick you up. It makes it more special.”

That’s not what I was going for. Well, it was, but not really.
Lord help me.
What was I doing?
That
’
s the last time I let my libido suggest something without permission from my brain.

“Okay. I’ll be ready about six.”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

I was resolved. I felt good about this. It’s amazing how you could have a resolution about something and then five seconds later, second-guess it. In this case, it came an hour later. After Kate Harris dropped by my office looking for me. So much for running into her in the halls. She was now stalking me.
Leave me alone, Kate Harris. Let me be stupid and live with the consequences. Take your shiny halo and perfect smile and wait in the parking lot until I see what
’
s up with me and Tom. Me and Tom?

“Hey Amy! I’m so glad I found you. Have you had lunch?”

Who could eat?
I had a hormonal husband waiting for me to return to our bed, a guy I lived with and couldn’t get off my mind, and a relationship that went belly-up all in the matter of a few weeks. Maybe even before then. I wasn’t the keenest on signals. I had a type of color-blindness to them.

“No, I’ve been busy today. I’ll just probably grab a sandwich and eat it at my desk.”
Alone. With my dozen roses.

She touched the petals of my flowers and a smile lit her face. “How gorgeous. You’re a lucky girl.”

“I guess.” Guilt was written all over my face.

“Come and let me buy you a sandwich. I’d love to talk with you. I’m kind of in a desperate situation.”

And I looked as though I could provide a solution?
She’d need a backup plan for sure.

“Well…”

“It’s settled. Come on. The cafe down the block has clam chowder on Mondays.”

She was practically headed to get my coat. I had no choice in the matter.

We took a seat in the overcrowded coffee shop. I threw some oyster crackers into my seeping soup.
How did I get here?
kept creeping into the forefront of my mind.

“You’ll never know how grateful I am to have met you.” She stirred her soup a few times. “Glenda, the friend who hosted Thanksgiving dinner, mentioned how reserved Tom was. You know, which isn’t a bad thing; he just doesn’t give anyone anything to gossip about. Kind of like Prince William and his wife. You never see them on the cover of magazines due to scandal. They’re only on there because of their perfect family.”

I nodded, taking the spoon to my lips. Perhaps if I scorched my tongue I’d be excused from this type of cruelty. I’d have to go to the emergency room and they’d pack my mouth with ice and gauze. That might prove to help me in all aspects of my life.

“Anyway, I hadn’t been out with anyone since George.” She tapped some chowder off her spoon, on the side of the bowl. “He was my husband. We were married three years before he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I took care of him for a year before he passed.” She stopped moving for a moment and looked to the back wall of the sandwich shop.

I laid down my spoon as though it was a moment for silence.

“That was two years ago.” She looked at me with those long eyelashes batting.
Just add Helen Keller attributes to her resume.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“I was a complete wreck.” She smoothed out the red checkered tablecloth. “I took leave from my job and didn’t come out of my house for months.”

“That’s so sad.” I felt bad for wanting to scorch my tongue. She was obviously in pain and needed someone to talk to.

“Well, when I saw Tom that night, it was like…” She gazed out the window and a smile came to her face. “It was like I was a teenager again. I felt like there might be some type of life after George. Not that I would compare the two. They are extremely different from each other. It was just that I felt something. A strange attraction to him. Like George had sent him to me.” She waved her hand in the air. “Anyway, feeling it made me think I could get out there again. I’m hoping for the best. Does that sound silly? Premature even? I know we’ve only just met. But, I sense a connection to him.”

Whoa. This was deep. Who could eat and listen to this at the same time? Connection? Yeah, I could identify.

“I guess what I’m asking, Amy, is some advice not to mess this up. He’s like no one I’ve been around. He’s kind, he’s a gentleman… Do you know when Patricia, that’s George’s sister, told me he was divorced, I was like why? Who would divorce this man?” She raised up her hands.