Leaving Amy (Amy #2) Read online

  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.

  “Sure. I don’t think I want to get back to the cabin any time soon. It was like a bad episode of Big Brother. Where I’m begging I’m the next one to leave the show.”

  I laughed and headed for the table. It looked as though it’d been here for some time. The wood was so worn all the grain was smoothed out—lacquered black and slick. Harder to see dirt, I supposed. I placed my sandwich down on three spread-out napkins and began to eat. The harmony of the meat and cheese made it easier to focus on my plan to see Jim later that night. And that took my mind off the mess I had made with Mark.

  “I’m going to visit Jim after dinner.” I said it under the radar of being loud enough for him to hear. Hopefully he’d just tune me out like usual, nod, and keep eating.

  “What? I don’t think so. There’s no way you’re setting one foot on that jerk’s piece of common trash land.”

  Did he just seriously say no? As if I wore a leash and Wesley was holding tight to the other end. I lay my sandwich down and got ready for battle.

  “Wesley, what is your problem with Jim? I thought it would’ve ended with high school graduation.” I wiped my mouth, hoping I didn’t just see a piece of bread fly from my mouth. “It’s not like he ever did anything to you personally.” Or had he? Wesley was getting pretty worked up over this guy.

  “Amy, I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go over there. It’s not the sort of partying you’re used to.” He stuffed a chip in his mouth and grabbed for his soda.

  “Well, I told him I’d go just for a minute. And Wesley, don’t tell me what I can’t do and what sorts of parties I’m used to. I’ve done a little more than you know since we’ve been apart.” I gave a two-second smirk before I took another bite of my sandwich. Give him something to ponder.

  Chapter Six

  I punched out a message to Mark after I wrapped a towel around me. “I promise we’ll talk next week when you get back.”

  I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d say, but I figured I should say something to him. My phone only had five percent battery left from fetching all of his messages and voicemails. I thought the letter I wrote and had delivered by a stranger was sufficient: I’m not going with you and have a nice life. Oh by the way, you broke my heart. And why wouldn’t you think this was something we should discuss first before you accept a job offer…across the country! It was hard enough for me packing up and moving across town to live with you in your townhouse. Chicago? I was exasperated just thinking about the absurdity. If he only knew me. I didn’t do change very well. It takes me seven years to even rotate out shoes. And then they need a pretty good reason to go in the trash. A frayed back, permanent scuffs that can’t be shaded with a Sharpie, or just overly worn-looking. I’ll still wear them if they look new but wear slightly on m
y piggy toe!

  I put the phone down and took a deep breath of the steam from my hot shower. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I caught a glimpse of something moving in the foggy mirror behind me. I turned and noticed the door to the bathroom was swung open. I let out a tiny scream and hugged my towel close to my body as if a vortex of wind was threatening to suck it off. It was Wesley. He’d come inside without knocking first.

  “Wesley, I’m still in here. Give me a few minutes, will ya?”

  He stood there, transfixed in a weird position: head cocked to the side, his eyes opening and closing with the speed of a robotic twitch, and one hand still on the doorknob.

  “Well, are you going to let me finish?” I asked, hoping something would snap him from his brain fart. Certainly he knew where he was, didn’t he? Did that car accident do permanent damage or what?

  He began and stopped, clearing his throat. “I…um…I just wanted to…”

  I stretched out my neck, waiting for it to come stammering out of his mouth. Wanted to what?

  “Amy, why couldn’t I ever just come into the bathroom when you were in the shower?”

  What?! Was he serious? Because I was naked, of course.

  “What are you talking about, Wesley? Why would you come in while I was in the shower? What was so important that it couldn’t wait until I was finished?”

  “No, you’re missing the point. Why weren’t you ever comfortable with me seeing you?”

  Okay, where was this coming from? I stood straighter, ready to defend my prudish response. “I don’t know. I’m just modest, I guess. Why is this coming up now?”

  “It’s just like when we were talking earlier about things I wanted to do but never told you. And how that and more stuff is probably why we never…I mean why we weren’t happy.”

  “So our marriage would’ve been saved if you could’ve walked in while I was taking a shower?”

  His hand dropped off the knob and he stepped closer to me. “It’s that there was no intimacy with us, I felt. I’m the type who likes to walk naked around the house, you know that.”

  He didn’t have to convince me there. I was witness to that firsthand. Me, trying not to stare at things while he chugged from a milk carton in front of the refrigerator. Or that time I found him checking the circuit breakers in the basement with a flashlight because my stupid hairdryer made the bathroom current go out. I mean, wasn’t he scared someone might see him while peeking in the windows, or an ax might fall from the overhead utility shelves and cut it off?

  “I know you feel comfortable in the buff, but I don’t.” I clutched tight to my towel. I hoped I didn’t have white knuckles.

  He took two more steps toward me in this tiny bathroom all of ten spaces wide. I waited with a blank stare. What did he think this was going to accomplish?

  One more step and he was there. In my personal space. I could feel his warm breath on my face. He took his right hand and caressed my cheek. “All I’m saying, Amy, is that I wanted that type of intimacy with you. I wanted you to feel comfortable. To know that I would’ve felt closer to you than I already felt.”

  “Did what’s her name invite you into the shower with her? Did you all have that type of intimacy?”

  I know, I know. That was pretty much all it took to take the air out of this little Dr. Phil chat and bring it around to what a cheater he was. I had an intimacy problem? He had a fidelity problem.

  His eyes closed slowly while his jaw clenched. “Are we going to be able to ever get past her?”

  “I was just curious. Did you or did you not take showers together? Was she running around the house or apartment ironing clothes and cooking dinner in nothing but her birthday suit?” The thought grossed me out.

  “Let me turn this around on you, shall I? Was the good doctor privy to see your body or are we both in the dark of what you truly look like without clothes?”

  “Oh, please, Wesley. As if.” Yeah, I wasn’t sure what I meant either. But don’t drag my and Mark’s relationship into the same company as him and his tramp.

  Out of nowhere, he took my hand that was pinching the terry cloth and kissed it. “Amy, I don’t want you to throw Violet in my face every time I say something that upsets you.”

  Yuk. Why did he have to say her name? It made it seem so real. I know I like to mention and throw this person up in his face, but I don’t think in real time; it’s more of a strategy…a diversion to have it all seem like it was his fault.

  “I simply wanted to open up about something that was on my mind. That’s all.” He kept hold of my hand. I wasn’t sure what else he wanted from me. This towel was not coming unpeeled from my pale body any time before the bathroom door was locked and he was on the other side of it. This was not a part of the deal.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say. You told me you wanted more intimacy and I’m saying okay.” I shifted weight to account for him still holding on to my hand.

  He bit down on his lip. “I know it’s probably not relevant now to you, is it?”

  “Umm…” I looked from the shower door to the mirror, not sure what to say. “I guess I know now that bothered you.”

  “What if I’d mentioned it to you when we were still together…before the accident?”

  “You mean before you left me?” Let’s get that clear.

  “Sure.” He released my hand, but still wore the puppy-dog eyes.

  “I guess I would’ve said…” I don’t know what I would’ve said. That would’ve been so unlike him to actually tell me something that bothered him about me. Or vice versa. Eating fries in his Jeep, now, he had zero problem conveying that kind of information.

  “I don’t know, Wesley.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t know what I expected.” He turned around to leave.

  “Wesley,” I said before he shut the door. He turned to me. “I never felt pretty enough for you to see me.”

  He walked back toward me, shaking his head. He cupped my cheek and looked tenderly in my eyes. “Amy, you’re gorgeous.”

  Wow, this towel was getting hot. “Thank you, Wesley. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

  He bent down and softly kissed my cheek, as though I’d break if he applied any pressure. It felt strangely nice. Normal, yet unexpected. Who was this new guy? Where was the other one tied up and gagged? How many existed inside this man?

  He spoke quietly into my ear. A tiny wave of prickles moved down my arms. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

  Margaret and Claire were on the sofa, playing gin rummy, when I came down the stairs. Despite my attempts to help with cleaning up dinner, they both demanded I go get ready to go to my friend’s for a visit. I think they’d seen a slight change in me this Thanksgiving and wanted to help any way they could to perk me up. I hoped Wesley would stay behind but I kind of knew I wasn’t that lucky. And I knew more that he wouldn’t let me drive his car.

  “Wesley, don’t tell me you still have that silly hat.” I stared at him while suppressing a laugh.

  It was a stupid red hat that he’d had since high school. His last piece from the past was now tattered on the brim; dirt seemed to be the only thing keeping the other threads secure. He was checking himself out in the mirror by the front door.

  “Amy, of course I do.” He threw a look to me, like “watch what you say.”

  “It’s just that I thought I put it in the giveaway bin last year.”

  “Luckily I saw it and saved it.”

  “Hmm.” I didn’t know what else to say. Yes, it reminded me of a different Wesley. One who I looked at wistfully from a distance, but then I grew to hate when he took weekend bachelor trips with his buddies and excluded me. Ironically, he was the only one going who wasn’t a bachelor.

  “So you’re going with me?”

  “Of course. It’s too far for you to walk.”

  Ah, there was the guy I married. Right there in his silly boy cap, telling me it
was either in a passenger seat or by foot that I’d get to Jim’s tonight.

  “Let’s go.” I waved at Margaret and Claire and looked around for the guys. I heard a commotion in the billiard room and figured everyone was being entertained.

  “After you.” Wesley held the door and I could’ve sworn I saw something different in those eyes of his. The way they pinned me with more force than usual. It was difficult to look away.

  There was hardly anywhere to park. Wesley chose half a mile down the road. Any farther and we could’ve walked to the party from our cabin. “Why are you parking so far away?”

  “Amy, half of these guys driving are trashed. I don’t want any dings in my new Jeep.”

  “Well, I certainly hope they won’t be driving if they’re trashed.”

  He came around to my side and helped me out. I stepped over the ditch and fell into him as he caught me and slammed the door shut in one muscular fell swoop. “God, I’ve missed your smell.”

  I steadied myself quickly and kept my distance, walking through the damp leaves to the road’s edge. Was it weird that what he was saying was giving me butterflies in the pit of my stomach? Where he once lived, in the bile and disgust, when I thought of how much he hurt me.

  I thought about ignoring it—his comment…my feelings about it—but instead I turned around abruptly. He almost knocked me over, he was so close to my heels. “Why are you acting like this, Wesley? Why are you coming into the bathroom when I’m getting out of the shower, why are you kissing my cheek, looking at me like…well, you know…and then holding doors and smelling me? What do you want from me? I’m here, aren’t I? You’re getting your money after this little charade is over.”

  “I want you back, Amy.”

  And that’s when everything stopped. Breathing, blinking, recognition of anything around me. It was as though I were in a dream. The type where you see yourself as if it’s a movie, hovering in space. But this time I was pretty sure I was awake. I felt the wind from a car that’d just driven by and suffered the burn of its lights in my eyes.