Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
S he propped the phone on the booth and picked up her knitting needles. On the screen in front of her, she watched the young woman with bright blue hair and an encouraging smile. The instructor’s fingers moved quickly, deftly, and it made Amy pause and stare at her own gnarled hands for too long.
When had she gotten so old?
She’d been so busy trying to keep the peace with Eric that she’d let time slip by her. Now, here she sat in broad daylight in a quiet booth at Decadent Treats, trying to relearn how to knit. After a lifetime of relying on other people to do things for her, Amy had made a to-do list with the help of Lily, and she’d approached it with all of the gusto and enthusiasm of a woman half her age.
For the umpteenth time that day, Amy found herself wishing she wasn’t setting herself up for failure. First, at the yoga studio, with a slew of twenty-something-year-olds who’d taken pity on her and tried to help her with her poses. Then, at the pottery class, where she made a mess of her clothes and ended up ducking out early.
Knitting was the latest in a long line of ill-fated but well-intentioned ventures.
Her list was beginning to look more and more ridiculous the harder she struggled.
A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead as Amy paused to reach for the glasses around her neck. After adjusting them on the bridge of her nose, she squinted and poked her tongue between her teeth. A short while later, she was grinning triumphantly until the instructor held her own scarf up, and Amy’s fell apart.
With a huff, Amy tossed the knitting needles and yarn onto the table. Then, she folded her arms over her chest and spent the next few minutes scowling and trying to figure out what to do next. When Emily came over with a plate of hot muffins and a mug of tea, some of Amy’s anger lessened.
Emily sat down across from her, a smattering of flour all over her face, and swatted away an errant lock of hair. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“Why is knitting included on so many self-help lists?”
Emily snorted and tore off a piece of the blueberry muffin, causing steam to rise up. “Beats me. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing.”
Amy took off her glasses and rolled her shoulders. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Except that Lily told me it’s good to keep myself busy while I try and figure out the next phase in my life.”
Emily shoved a piece of the muffin into her mouth and chewed. “How’s that going?”
“Great.” Amy made a vague hand gesture. “If you consider failing at everything I try a success.”
“I’m sure you didn’t fail at everything.”
Amy ran a hand through her hair. “Every single thing I’ve tried today has been a disaster. Maybe my kids were right. I haven’t really done much for myself in years. Eric made sure someone else took care of the housework, and someone came in to cook a few times a week.”
Emily tore off another piece and pushed the plate toward Amy. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Nobody is completely useless at everything. You just haven’t found what you’re good at yet.”
Amy frowned at the knitting needles and skein of yarn as if they were taunting her. “Well, my kids probably wouldn’t agree with you, so there’s that.”
Emily took a sip of out of her own mug. “What do you mean?”
“Not only are they not taking the news of the divorce well, which I kind of saw coming, but they’re also completely convinced I’m having a midlife crisis and the sooner I come to my senses, the better.”
Emily set down her mug and winced. “They actually said that?”
Amy picked up the muffin and unwrapped the rest of it. “Not in those exact words, but yes, they pretty much think I’m useless too. And they’re not wrong. I’m seventy-one, and I have no job. I don’t even know what I’m going to do when I run out of savings.”
Being frugal and living sparsely wasn’t going to make the money last forever, no matter how much she wanted it to.
Amy had a few more months before she had to figure everything out, and until then, she wanted to bury her head in the sand and pretend her problems didn’t exist. After years spent living in survival mode, Amy didn’t want to worry about the future or drive herself crazy wondering what was going to happen next.
“I’m sure your kids can help,” Emily offered, a shadow settling over her face. “It’s what family does.”
Amy tore off a piece of the muffin and shoved it into her mouth, her lips lifting into a half-smile at the burst of flavor. “Maybe they’d help me out financially, but I couldn’t ask them. They’ve got their own families and financial obligations to worry about.”
Emily searched Amy’s face. “So, you’re not going to tell them at all?”
Amy paused with another piece of muffin halfway to her lips. “Well, no. When the time comes, I’ll see how I feel about it, but until then, I don’t see the point of bothering them with this. It’s not like they’d pay much attention anyway.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sylvie and Lucas have their own lives. It’s been like that pretty much since they graduated college. There’s always something to do or somewhere to be, so they’re not around as often.”
If it weren’t for the constant updates, Amy wondered if they’d know much about her life at all.
But she didn’t begrudge them any of it, not when she knew they were happy and healthy.
What more could she possibly want for her children?
Emily reached across the table and took Amy’s hand in hers. “I’m sure if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t hesitate to be there, front row center.”
Amy shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d know what to do if they paid too much attention to me.”
Emily snorted. “I can tell you how that feels. Charlotte and Savannah are the complete opposite, especially since their father died. They hover so much, I tease them about how I’m the parent.”
Amy squeezed Emily’s hands. “I’m sure it’s nice having them around like that.”
“It is, but it also makes me miss Trevor more.” Emily withdrew her hand and sighed. “I love my daughters, I do, but I know they can’t fill the Trevor-sized hole in my heart. No one can.”
“I don’t think anyone is meant to,” Amy offered with an exhale. “I think you just learn to live with the grief until, one day, it doesn’t hurt as much.”
“And you learn to grow around it,” Emily mused in a softer voice. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Things don’t always end up the way we want them to, huh?”
Emily stood up. “Not even close. Do you want something else?”
Amy glanced up and patted her stomach. “You’re definitely going to make me gain some weight.”
“You’d look so much better with a little meat on your bones,” Emily teased with a quick look over her shoulders. “I’ve got to get back.”
“I’ll see you at support group tonight?”
Emily nodded and gave her a genuine smile. “Absolutely.”
Hours later, Amy was standing off to the side, on the far side of the church basement, near a large bay window that overlooked the lush green backyard. Through the wrought iron gates, she spotted rows and rows of identical-looking gray buildings that looked like they’d seen better days. Emily raced down the stairs a while later with only a few short minutes to spare.
The two of them embraced, and Amy was about to make a comment when another pair of footsteps descended. Then, a second pair joined them, revealing two men, one of them with stubble and laugh lines on his face. The other had one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans and the other tugging on the edge of his shirt. Both of them wore dark-colored sneakers.
As one, they moved and selected seats in the last row.
Amy sat two rows ahead and laced her fingers through Emily’s.
Halfway through the meeting, she pretended to stretch her arms over her head and spun around, spotting the duo easily. The older man sat there, a look of fierce concentration etched onto his face. Next to him, the boy was fidgeting and unable to sit still long enough for any of it to make a difference.
Halfway through the meeting, the duo was introduced to everyone as William and Jack Johnson.
“Thank you all for welcoming us,” William said, pausing to rise to his feet. The flecks of salt and pepper in his hair glistened beneath florescent lighting. “My son and I are glad we came.”
A smattering of applause broke out.
“My wife and Jack’s mom—Laura—died a few years ago, and we’ve been trying to make our peace with it, but it hasn’t been easy,” William added with a quick look around the room. His gaze settled on Amy, who felt a shiver race up her spine. She shifted and inched closer to Emily, who was staring at the two of them. “All this time, I— we’ve been struggling. A friend of mine told me about this place and how life-changing it was.”
Silence settled over the room.
William’s remarks were met with a chorus of well-wishes and sympathy a heartbeat later.
“It’s taken us a while.” William placed a hand on Jack’s shoulders. “But we’re here, and we want to move forward together as a family.”
Another smattering of applause rose, louder than the first.
Amy was among the first to clap and the last to stop.
She didn’t realize she had tears in her eyes until Emily handed her a packet of tissues. In silence, Amy ripped it open and dabbed at her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement and turned to it, smiling when she saw a half-circle forming around William and Jack, many of them women who couldn’t stop batting their lashes at the Johnson family patriarch.
It was shameful.
But Amy paid them no mind, especially when the excitement died down and everyone went back to their seats. With an awkward smile, William sat down first and glanced over at his son, who smiled and held his gaze.
Outside, a strong gust of wind blew, rattling the windows. Then, there was howling in the distance, followed by the loud screech of a tire.
Several of the members of the support group glanced up, startled.
Silence settled again, and everyone went back to their stories.
Amy was only half-listening as the hour drew to a close. Slowly, she rose to her feet and followed Emily to the slew of tables pushed together in the back. Someone had already laid out the donuts and cookies, and a few pitchers of iced tea were set out, along with some cans of soda. Emily got to the front of the table first and snagged a few treats for them.
The two of them stood in a quieter corner of the room, whispering amongst themselves as people trickled out. When only a few people were left, Emily and Amy hung back to help clean up. When they came out of their secluded corner, Amy’s sides hurt from laughing so hard. She followed Emily to the back of the room and rolled up her sleeves. Before they could start, William and Jack emerged from the shadows and began to help.
“Cleanup duty isn’t for first-timers,” Emily joked with a quick look in Amy’s direction. “Unless you have the misfortune of being friends with the person who brought the treats.”
Up close, the father and son duo were even more handsome than Amy had realized. Jack was a bit on the shorter side, with midnight-black hair that curled at the nape of his neck and a pair of striking blue eyes. His black button-down shirt looked like it had seen better days, and his jeans hung a little too low on his hips.
William, on the other hand, was magnetic and towered over his son.
He was at least five inches taller and kept his back erect and his shoulders straight. With a sharp jaw, caramel-colored eyes, and salt-and-pepper hair that made him look more distinguished, Amy suddenly realized why all of the other women flocked to his side, especially when he turned to her and smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corners.
He truly was better looking up close.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Amy dismissed it and busied herself with the plastic plates and cups, tossing them into the garbage bag Emily held. It wasn’t long before Jack commandeered control of the garbage bag, leaving Emily, Amy, and William to tidy up the rest. In amicable silence, the four of them worked while the overhead fluorescent lights buzzed, and their shoes squeaked against the polished hardwood floors.
Eventually, Jack went to carry the garbage bag out, and Emily hurried after him, realizing he had no idea where to go. Once Amy realized she was alone with William, the first man she’d been alone with other than Eric in years, a flush crept up her neck and cheeks.
“I’m sorry about your wife,” Amy began, her voice climbing toward the end. “It sounds like you really loved her.”
William’s answering smile was sad. “I did. I thought we were going to end up in a retirement home together, making fun of each other, and waiting for our grandkids to come and visit.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to do that.”
William nodded, some of the shadows on his face lifting. “Me too. What about you?”
Amy blinked. “What about me?”
“You look too young and beautiful to be a widow,” William pointed out, his lips spreading into a slow smile. “Or was he an idiot who let you go?”
“Something like that,” Amy replied, her flush deepening. “It was time to move on.”
“It’s his loss.”
Even though William hardly knew her, his words touched something in her. They made something low and warm unfurl in the center of her stomach, and it wasn’t until he handed her a packet of tissues that she realized she was crying again.
What was the matter with her?
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” William looked more than a little alarmed as one hand held up the packet of tissues and the other hung limply at his side. “I’m sorry if my words offended you.”
Amy dabbed at her eyes and waved his comment away. “No, don’t apologize. I just… It’s been a long time since someone told me something like that.”
It had been too long, in fact.
Outside of her immediate family and the occasional acquaintance, most people in her life didn’t bother with compliments.
Not unless they wanted something.
And in the span of one night, William Johnson had reduced her to tears twice with his words alone.
She really was turning into a sentimental mess, but with the way William was looking at her, she didn’t mind one bit.