Leaving Amy (Amy #2) (7 page)

“No.” I grabbed a paper towel to squeeze the water from my hair. “After Wesley’s accident, I really felt out of the loop. It took so long to get back to normal.”

She grabbed her mouth. “Right! What was I thinking? Sure you were. Out of the loop, that is. I know, because I was too.” She took a slice of apple she must’ve been cutting before we arrived. A loud crunch came when she bit down on it. A little juice dribbled down her chin and she wiped it with the back of her hand. “I’m not sure you know then, but Tyler’s wife left him.”

“Oh my gosh!” My jaw dropped before I could catch it. I’d gone to their wedding. Another fairy-tale one that wasn’t my own. They had it at the country club. A white limousine dropped them off from the church, where all the little flower girls wore lavender and their golden retriever had carried their rings on its back to the altar. It was simply magical. And the bubbles. Yes, I remember now. Everyone blew bubbles when they left. They stood up through the sunroof of that white limo and he kissed her passionately, announcing to everyone this was the love of his life. I think I saw every bleached white tooth in his mouth when he exclaimed it.

“What happened?”

She wiped up the apple peeling with a napkin and took it over to the trashcan. “I don’t know. After he didn’t answer my call for days, I drove to his house and found him in his living room, sitting on the floor in a stupor. The place was a complete mess. He was a complete mess. Hadn’t eaten for days, hadn’t showered either.” She stared off in the distance, one hand on her mouth while her head shook back and forth. “All he says is she’s coming back. I’ve tried to get him to counseling. Anything. He’s been living with me and Jeff for going on two months now. His house is in foreclosure because Janet quit paying the mortgage.”

Just then Wesley walked in. “Everything all right?”

He must’ve seen the shock that was stuck on my face like wet toilet paper. “Yeah, sure.”

“Jeff is really out. He’s snoring out there.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a rough week for him at work. I hope he can unwind a little bit here at the cabin. Away from the incessant phone calls from clients and associates. He needs to distance himself from all that worry. It’s not good for his health.”

“Have you all had lunch?” He looked at Margaret.

“Just snacks. There’s some granola and a few bags of chips in the cabinets. The other things I have to cook. Dinner will be ready at around five.”

My stomach was not happy with the thought it might get a nut tossed into it. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. I feel there ought to be some type of starving ritual when breaking up with someone. Fasting for penance, or something like that. Who can think about food when the future you dreamed about—the person you dreamed about was soon going to be boarding a plane and flying out of your life? To Chicago.

“Amy, do you want to go to the general store and see if we can get a sandwich? I’m starving.” Wesley rubbed his stomach when he made the suggestion.

It did sound appetizing. It’s a mom-and-pop shop where the family all pitches in and does everything from running the cash register to doing short order for the small colony of people who live by the lake. A ham and cheese wouldn’t seem as though I was indulging, would it?

“Sure.”

“Hold on a minute.” He came very close to my face and reached out to touch it. I slightly flinched. “Wait, you have a scratch beside your eye.”

He ran his fingers over it with a most peculiar look of care in his eyes. My wounded heart softened for just a second. “I think I did it just a moment ago when we came inside.”

“Does it hurt?” He was now looking into my eyes. I remembered those eyes from years ago. The eyes of the guy I thought I was madly in love with. There was still mystery in those eyes.

“Nah.” That’s all I could conjure up to say.
Nah. What else could I do?
He stood too close. Closer than a pending divorce partner should. Wielding care and wafting cologne into my nostrils. Cologne I was familiar with smelling on him. Woods, I think it was. He kept it by the sink and sprayed it on every morning before work. And yes, I noticed his haircut. Just the length I always liked. Don’t get me started on the J. Crew sweater. Blue…really? My favorite color on the guy? Where had the wrinkly castaway gone to who showed up on my doorstep just a few days before?

“How about that sandwich?”

“Okay.”

I waited until we made it to the car before addressing the whole “does it hurt” debacle. I was agreeing to stay there longer than just dinner for the selfish reason of avoiding Mark. The least Wesley could do was not care.

“What was that back there?” I asked accusingly.

He put the Jeep into gear and backed out of the driveway. “What?”

“Touching my face and acting like…well, touching my face.” I was exasperated with not being able to express myself more accurately. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I saw the change of weather in those brown eyes of his. No more groggy fog; it was sunshine and clear skies.

“It looked like it hurt. That’s all. Good grief, Ames. What’s up with the defense shield? You act like I’ve never touched you.”

“For the record, you didn’t. And now that we are pre-divorce, I don’t think it’s appropriate. It gives the wrong impression.”

“But the impression is that we
are
married. Don’t you remember?”

Crap.
He had me there. But seriously. If he wanted it to be believable, we could act like last year and I’d play cards with Margaret at the table while Wesley shot pool with Jeff and Nick. Then I’d retire early to bed and fall asleep reading a book and Wesley would climb into bed late, smelling like cigar smoke and brandy. Touching would certainly raise some eyebrows if he didn’t knock it off.

“Last year we didn’t touch, Wesley.”

“And that’s probably why we’re pre-divorce, as you call it.”

“Not that I want to split hairs, but I think a little thing called Violet is why we’re pre-divorce.” I had to do it. I had to get the dig in.

“Amy.” He could say my name to mean a plethora of things. In this case, it was coming at me with both barrels loaded.

“Just sayin’.” I probably wouldn’t bring it up again, but you never know.

We pulled into the general store and already my mouth was salivating. Ham and cheese going down in t minus five minutes. “Hey look, isn’t that Jim and Natalie?”

Jim Huntington. Moved from private school to the public school in our freshman year of high school. And it didn’t take until the time he was senior to get atrociously cute; he moved there that way. Brown hair with hints of golden honey running through it, light eyes, and one naughty smile to boot. His jock card was full with cheerleaders, a new one every season.

His family was disastrously rich. As soon as he got his driver’s license, Jim drove a convertible Jag to school. All the girls drooled over him and Wesley couldn’t stand him. Something about guys and their turfs. Wesley was the quarterback and Jim was all-star on the basketball team. It was pretty well known that you never invited both of them to your party or someone wouldn’t come out alive. People rotated invitations when it came to those two.

Natalie was another story. She had Ashley beat with the guy catcalls. Maybe because she gave out more than Ashley. I never knew that blonde tart to have a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend. I heard she was now a realtor. She probably sells more than home warranties to sweeten the deal to closing. Lest we forget her curvy body and red bombshell lip color.

“Let’s wait in the car until they’re gone.”

“Oh Wesley. Jim is a really good guy. I haven’t seen him in ages. I want to say hello.” I got the privilege to tutor him in calculus one year so he could remain on the team. His bad boy persona was actually a facade. I got to see the real guy. One who liked photography and who would talk nonstop about one day working for
National Geographic
.

I grabbed my bag and swung open the door. “You occupy Natalie for me. I can’t stand that girl.” I smiled devilishly over my shoulder. “Who knows, maybe you two could hook up. You know, during our post-divorce.”

I didn’t wait for his comeback. Jim had already spotted me and was on his way over to greet me. Yep, still had that charm that circled around him like a shiny ring. Two buttons open on the baby-blue polo shirt, hair groomed as though he’d just stepped out of a barbershop, and that infectious smile. Like Richard Gere in
Pretty Woman
. It had a way of making you forget whatever was on your mind three seconds ago.

“Amy! What the hell? What are you doing up here?” He grabbed and pulled me tight to his chest…his very toned chest. I could smell the fabric softener in his shirt.

“I’m here…well, we’re here for our annual Thanksgiving retreat. You know, with Wesley’s law firm or other.” It was hard to explain. Although, last year I’d bumped into Jim at the market down the road and had told him the same thing. I had been scouring for cranberry jelly and he was buying seven six-packs of beer. One of the young stock boys had to help him out to his car with his loot.

I looked over and saw Wesley getting accosted by Natalie. Her smiling face rested on his shoulder as her long, witch-like fingers tapped his butt.
Gross.

“Oh, right. Well, I’m here to host our annual misfit Thanksgiving retreat. A couple new faces this year. It draws quite a crowd, as you know, on the river.”

Last year Jeff almost called the cops about the noise level, thanks to Wesley leaking Jim’s name. Our cabins are situated across the lake from each other. I watched his cabin out from the back deck—the flickering lights like lightning bugs and listening to the music bumping vibrations across the water.

“Misfits?” I asked.

“Yeah, all the people who have no people to celebrate with come and we all just camp out until Monday. Moochers, recent divorcees, hobos…you know, the fun ones.” He threw that dangerous smile on me.

“You’re not a misfit, Jim. You do have people.”

I knew for a fact that his mother and father were both still living in the same house because they came into the office to argue their property taxes. They’d almost doubled. And his sister is married with a child. Surely one or both of them were preparing turkey for tomorrow and setting a plate for him.

The disappearance of his smile made the light in his eyes become dimmer. “I like these people better, I guess.” He looked toward the sky. “Say, how about you come over?”

My cheeks warmed a bit at the suggestion. I was never cool enough to get invited to out-of-control parties before. Especially by the host himself. I felt as though I were a girl in high school all over again. This time I was popular.

“I can’t. I wish I could. But you know, I’m here with Wesley and our dads’ old partner. We have routines. Rummy, solitaire, and if things get really out of hand, charades. That sort of thing.”

He flung his head back and laughed. His Adam’s apple rose and fell. “I think you can slip out for one evening, don’t you?”

I looked over to the other side of the Jeep, where Natalie was still spinning a web around Wesley. He looked at me with “help me” signs flashing in his eyes.

“Wesley usually likes to just stay in.” I did that thing with my eyes. The “I would but, you know what I’m up against” thing.

“I saw you last week.” He had me on lockdown with his piercing brown eyes.

I began scrambling in my brain if I’d seen
him
. My eyes darted back and forth. “Okay.”

“I saw you with another man, Amy.” One side of his head tilted, as though it’d gotten heavier and now suffered from an extra gravitational pull. “And the way you were acting tells me something’s up. Care to share?”

“Amy!” Wesley shouted from the edge of the sidewalk. It appeared he was trying to shake Natalie like stuck gum to the bottom of his shoe.

I signaled with a nod of my head. “Wait a minute.”

I looked back to Jim. He hadn’t broken his stare from me. “Where was I?”

“I was picking up takeout from Chez-Moi’s and you were nestled in a corner booth, kissing another dude. He had dark hair, a little bit longer than mine, and it certainly wasn’t Wesley.”

Double shit.
Why did I think that dating Mark in our small community wouldn’t get more advertisement? Maybe because at the time I didn’t care. Everyone was going to find out sooner or later that Wesley had left me. Now it was coming back to bite me. So much for throwing caution to the wind. I needed to reel that stuff in for now.

“Amy! I’m dying of hunger here. Let’s go.”

Natalie had already scampered to her side of the car. Probably got the brush-off and didn’t know quite how to handle it. She had the most peculiar twist of the lips and her hand rested on her little tiny, starved hip.

“We hear ya, Douche Bag. Give her a second.” He waved his middle finger in Wesley’s direction and kept steady eyes on me.

“I’m ready too, Jim. Come on,” Natalie said arrogantly.

Jim drew a heavy sigh and exhaled it with flared nostrils. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later tonight then?”

Of course he would. I couldn’t have him think I was cheating on Wesley. And I liked Jim. He was a stand-up guy. The type to grab a social misfit and swing her around the cafeteria just to make her feel wonderful about herself. In front of all the ultra-cool crowds. Yes, I needed to defend my reputation.

“Sure.”

I heard a groan from Natalie’s side of the car. I knew she didn’t like me very much. For what reason, I wasn’t sure. I never did anything to her. Maybe she was confusing me with Ashley. They never got along. Too much pretty in both of them. It left no room for humility.

I went into the store as I heard the gravel turn underneath Jim’s tires. Wesley was going to kill me when I told him I was going over to the bachelor pad later.

“Here.” He handed me a ham on rye with a skiff of mayonnaise and provolone cheese. There’s something to be said of old shoes. They knew what type of sandwich you ate and the fact that any drink with ice in it would kill your sensitive teeth.

“Thanks. Do you want to sit down and eat it here?” I pointed over to an old wooden table by the window. Red and white cafe curtains dressed the window beside it, overlooking the front sidewalk of the store.