Leaving Amy (Amy #2) (4 page)

“There’s Tom. I can’t imagine moving away from him. We’ve gotten to be so close. He’d be devastated.”

He dropped his hands and walked away. “Oh, lest we forget the precious Tom McTavish. As far as I’m concerned, good riddance, Mr. McTavish.”

“I know you and Tom don’t get along, but he is my best friend, Mark.”

“Well, if you ask me—”

“I never ask you when it comes to Tom. He’s my friend, not yours.” I stood a little straighter as I laid down that fact.

“Well, I would like to go on record as saying I think our relationship could only get better without that guy’s nose in the middle of it.”

I did one of those deep breaths when you’re warning someone to tread lightly. When it came to Tom, I made sure to never let it interfere with Mark. I moved our weekly TV nights to ones that Mark worked late at the hospital. And the charity events I still went to with him were always on weekends when Mark and I had no plans. It didn’t interfere with anything. I was still coaching Tom to find his special someone. It was just taking time to do so. Mark would’ve never minded my time spent with a girlfriend; why did Tom work him up so much?

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“What would the hospital do without you? You just got into your position there.”

“I talked to Dr. Willis and he said he’d manage. He knows what an opportunity this would be for me.”

My eyes enlarged. “You talked about it to Dr. Willis before me?” I stopped my rant abruptly.
Was I sounding like a whining girlfriend?
“Not that I realize I count too much. I’m just your girlfriend, after all. The one moving in with you. The one who just purposely didn’t sign an extension on her lease because you said not to.”

He pulled me back from walking out of the room. “Amy, you know you mean more to me than just a girlfriend. You are my world. That’s why I want to begin this phase of my life with you by my side.”

He hugged me. I could still smell hints of the aftershave he’d put on that morning. “Let’s not ruin dinner with talk about this now. I was mistaken that you would feel the same way about it as I do. Give it some time to sink in. It’s not like they’ve offered it to me. I don’t want this to strain our relationship on a mere interview. Anything could happen. Let’s eat our dinner and talk about our week to come.” He walked over to the sink and washed off his hands.

As he pulled off another precious paper towel, he turned to look at me. “Mom is really excited about Thursday. Michael’s family is going to be flying in from Florida. She’s happy we’re going to be there for her. She’s feeling a little outnumbered by the amount of children he has. And some are bringing their spouses. Do you think you could make a few dishes? She asked and I told her I’d relay the message. Maybe you could make that cake you made last month. The one with the caramel icing.”

It was my turn to be the heel in the room. I was certain my news would not go over well with him, at all. I pulled the containers of food out of the bag and reached in a box by the counter marked silverware.

“Something’s actually come up and I won’t be able to go.”

I tucked my chin into my chest and waited for the pounding of questions and accusations.

“Won’t be able to go? What are you talking about? Amy, it’s Thanksgiving, for crying out loud. We’ve had this planned.”

I handed him a Styrofoam box and fork. “I have to do a favor for someone.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Favor? Does this have anything to do with what you were saying earlier about Wesley?”

Oh Lord, he
was
paying attention. “Yes. It seems he needs me to appear at a dinner to prove we’re still married. In order to get seven hundred thousand dollars.”

He shook his head as if he’d missed the first part of that profound story. “Seven hundred thousand dollars?”

“Yes, his jerk of a dad put it in a trust and said the only way he could get it was on his thirtieth birthday with having a wife of at least five years. And of course he’d get even more if he’d gone and passed his bar exam and made partner.” I licked my finger from a sauce that’d leaked from one of the containers. “If I was a swearer, I’d swear he didn’t like Wesley very much at all. I mean, who does this to their own child?”

Mark’s hand rested on top of his closed container I’d just handed him. I supposed from the disgusted look on his face that dinner would be a total bust for tonight. “And this is somehow your problem? So he doesn’t get the money. He’ll get over it.”

I pursed my lips and tilted my head with shame in my eyes for his behavior. “Really? Seven hundred thousand dollars? You think it’s absurd to do this for him? He’s got nothing now, Mark. His girlfriend left him; he’s in hock for a restaurant, a car, and a lease in Nevada. The poor guy needs a break.”

“Poor guy? Are we talking about the same one who had a honey on the side and was still coming home at nights to you?”

Low blow.
I shut my container and realized dinner had just become wasted money. Probably would end up in my refrigerator. Sharing space with a bottled water and the ketchup and mustard. Oh, and Mark’s heart could go in there, too. I’m sure it was used to the cold temperatures.

He must’ve seen the drain of color in my face. He rested his hand over his eyes and studied his shoes. “Amy, I’m sorry. It’s just that I think he might be getting what he deserves. He should’ve never done to you what he did. Karma sucks, but it happens.”

I got up from the barstool and walked to the living room. I hated being reminded what a fool I was. How naive I was to think I was enough and too good not to have a guy cheat on me.

Mark walked behind me and gently pulled my hair back from my neck.

I jerked away. “I think tonight has become an epic mistake, Mark. Maybe we need to sleep on things. I know I’m tired from working all day and packing all evening.”

“I don’t want to leave with you upset with me. I didn’t mean anything by it, Amy. I’m just saying—”

“Mark.” I turned around to look him in the eyes. “Let’s just say good-night, okay? You obviously got some good news today that I don’t share your enthusiasm about, and I’ve agreed to something you evidently don’t feel I should have. Let’s chalk it up to the fact we’re our own person and that’s all we’ve got right now.”

“What? I hope that’s not how you feel, Amy. I hope I’m still correct in thinking we still have each other. No matter what happens or what decisions we’ve made, we still have each other.”

“I guess. I’m just tired. Can I call you tomorrow?” I yawned to make it look authentic that I was exhausted. I just needed to be alone.

His head hung as he turned around slowly. After taking his coat from the sofa, he put it on and walked toward the door. I felt the burning in my nose. The sign that I was about to cry. I needed him to make it to the hallway faster than my tears to my cheek.

“I’ll call you later tonight before I go to sleep. I hope you at least eat. I got your favorite.”

“Thanks…and good-night.”

He opened the door as slow as anyone could and shut it even slower. I waited to breathe until I heard the click of the doorjamb. Then I ran to my bedroom and jumped on the bed, sobbing into my pillow. In one fell swoop, my world had shattered around me.
Again.

Like any good best friend, Tom had all of my favorites displayed on his table in the kitchen nook. I’d refused to eat the entire day with all of my depression and whatnot, and now I was starving. I suppose that was a good sign. Like maybe the fever of all that was spiraling out of control was breaking. But how could it if I refused to return Mark’s calls or texts?

“Tom, you didn’t have to do all of this.” I looked at him and batted my eyes. “But I’m so happy you did.”

He came around the table and pulled out my chair for me to take a seat.
Older guy charm
—
gotta love it!
I grabbed a tissue from my bag to wipe my running nose. It’d been doing it all day, since I spent almost the entire night crying. I was doing a marathon in my mind of what’s-wrong-with-my-life?

“Amy, no offense, but you look like a—”

“I know; you don’t have to say it.” I smiled politely and shoved the tissue underneath my plate.

Tom handed me a plate of moo goo gai pan with steamed rice. For dessert he had bought a chocolate cake with white icing from the bakery downtown. He no doubt got grief from the lady in the white apron to buy the chocolate one with chocolate frosting. I swear, doesn’t anyone eat white icing anymore? And people wondered why he was my bestie! When I called him this morning, he said to come here right after work. I had avoided Mark’s calls, not wanting him to tell me not to come here. Here is where I needed to be. I needed to know that I wasn’t crazy for being upset about the Chicago thing. No matter what, I could depend on Tom for being my sound of reason.

He spooned rice on to his plate and interrogated me at the same time.
Attorney multitasking.
“So you said very little this morning, but I could tell it was serious. Tell me, what’s this about Mark and you not going in the same direction?”

I finished chewing before I answered. The snap peas were stringier than usual and I fought to get it down my throat. “He’s moving to Chicago and he assumed I’d be all right with it.”

“Alone? Is he moving there alone?” His bushy eyebrows raised almost into his hairline.

“Well, he asked me to accompany him, but I can’t, Tom. You know I have my whole life here. This is where I grew up…where I wanted my children, if I ever have any, to grow up and go to the same schools I did. This is the only place I know. Mom and Dad are buried here and I really just don’t want to go.”

“Nor should you have to.” He sat down and looked over his glasses at me. He usually only wore them for reading. “What about your apartment? Are you still out of your lease? Where will you go? You know you can always move back in here.” He was on a roll with all the questions and suggestions.

I’d managed to slip in a few more bites waiting for him to finish his one-sided conversation. I wiped my mouth and tried to remember his questions.

“Yes, the landlord still has someone moving into my place the first of December. I’m almost completely packed. The problem is that I don’t have anywhere to send my things. This is all just too much for me to handle right now. And I appreciate your offer, Tom. I don’t know what I’m going to do. He might not even get the job. All this worry might be for nothing.” I rested my forehead in my hand and stared at my plate.

“It’s just that I want to get your opinion if I’m being stupid about this. I don’t want to seem childish or selfish of Mark’s opportunities in life. We’ve only been dating for a few months. Hardly enough time for me to put my foot down and demand he chooses me over something else. This is pretty big, you know. He’s says he can get published in medical journals.” I picked up my fork and scooted some food around on my plate. “I never want to be that girl; you know what I mean? But he’s known about it for two weeks, for goodness’ sakes. He even discussed it with Dr. Willis!”

I looked across the table at Tom, who was still forking food from the carton onto his plate. I felt like a piranha while he was still getting situated with his portions. I put down my utensil and took a sip of the white wine he’d poured when I got there. Just sweet enough; my favorite.

“I understand completely, Amy. You don’t have to sell me on your argument. Let him go.”

“Funny, that’s what he kind of said about moving away from you. What is it with you and him? What makes you not get along with each other?”

Tom waved his fork in the air while he finished the first bite in his mouth. “It’s simple. He’s not good enough for you.”

I laughed. Something I hadn’t done in the last twenty-four hours. “Oh, Tom, you’re funny. He is so good enough. He was someone I was going to move in with. I mean, what in the world was I doing?”

I shoved myself slightly from the table and held on to the edge of it while experiencing a great epiphany. “Oh my gosh! I was going to move in with him.” I let it settle in my head. “It happened so quickly…with the landlord breathing down my neck, one night Mark just said, ‘move your things into my place—you don’t have to sign another six months’ lease.’ Then, just like that,” I clicked my fingers together, “it was settled. I was going to move in with him.” I looked around Tom’s massive kitchen but was only seeing the thoughts in my mind.

“I was going to move in with a guy who I’ve only been dating since July. And I’m not even divorced. What was I thinking? This isn’t who I am. It’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed dating him—when he’s not pulling double shifts at the hospital. You know, it gets lonely sitting in an apartment waiting for your boyfriend to find a free minute to text you.” I covered my mouth. “Would you listen to me? He’s saving lives and I’m whining about waiting for a text message. Who have I become? Then again, Wesley never sent me messages, and he was far from saving lives. We saved all of our conversation for commercial breaks during dinner.” I beat my forehead gently. “I just wanted this to be the real thing. It was going to be.”

Tom reached across the table and held my fisted hand. The warmth and touch brought me out of my tailspin.

“Amy, don’t be so hard on yourself. When love bites, it takes no prisoners. You were acting on emotion. If everyone stopped to take a second and account for what they should be doing and not what they are doing, only half would still do it. You got caught up in the whole love thing. I knew, myself, that you hated that apartment. It was probably very easy to take Mark up on his invitation to move in with him.”

“So now what? I tell him that after thinking about it, I actually want to continue dating before we get as serious as moving in together? And then map out a diagram when all of this needs to take place? Like a timeline?” I shook my head. “Sometimes love needs to not be thought-out. That’s when you know you’re really in it. If I have to flow chart it, maybe I’m not totally bought into it.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”