Chapter 11
“Okay, girl. I want details. Every single one.”
Amy raised an eyebrow and sipped her homemade virgin pi?a colada as she and Laura sat on her freshly weeded back patio. It
had taken most of the day to conquer every single intruder. Britt would do a little weeding here and there, but once Amy attacked
the job, she was determined to yank out every one of those suckers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Laura set down her drink on the round patio table and twisted her body until she faced her. Her curly auburn hair was pushed
off her forehead with a tortoiseshell headband, and she narrowed her blue eyes. “Supper Saturday night? With Max, the hottie?”
“How did you know he was hot?”
“Is he?”
“Yes... hold on a minute.” She scowled at Laura. “That was a trick.”
“Of course it was.” Laura gave her a triumphant grin. “But I knew he was good-looking. One of the perks of overseeing the
Mingles is that I see all the signups. I also do a quick internet search to find out a little about them.”
“Isn’t that spying?”
“No. It’s gathering intel. And I don’t go deep. I check if they have a Facebook profile, then hop on LinkedIn to see if they have a presence there. If there are red flags, I might do an actual search. You can never be too careful these days.”
“True.” Hadn’t she warned Britt enough times about the dangers of interacting with strangers on the internet? “Any red flags
with Max?”
“Nary a one.”
That was a relief. They’d closed down the coffee shop on Saturday night, and surprisingly, she’d been reluctant to leave.
As soon as she walked through her door, she got a text from him.
I had a great time tonight. Maybe we can do it again.
She’d paused before answering. One evening with him hadn’t changed her mind about steering clear of romance. But there was
nothing wrong with male companionship, was there?
Sure. Hit me up sometime.
“You’re smiling again.”
She blinked, Laura’s words bringing her back to the present. She tried to cover. “It’s a lovely evening, my patio is weed
free, and these pi?a coladas are delicious. Why wouldn’t I be smiling?”
“Indeed.” Laura grabbed her drink and took a sip. “I’m still waiting, by the way.”
“For what?”
“Details!” She rolled her eyes. “It’s like yanking out a molar getting info from you.”
While keeping her friend hanging had its fun side, she didn’t want to irritate Laura too much. “I will, after you answer one
question.”
“Go.”
“Did you set us up?”
Laura looked genuinely surprised. “No. Promise. I can show the messages on the group where everyone cancelled. And I couldn’t
have made Farah’s game go into extra innings.”
“I’m glad she won.” Amy twirled the little pink umbrella in her drink. She’d been surprised to find them in her junk drawer.
They were left over from two years ago when she decorated her classroom in a Hawaiian theme for the last week of school. “It’s
just hard to believe it was a coincidence.”
“Because he’s perfect?”
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. “No.” Although he seemed pretty close to perfection. She hadn’t noticed in the tavern,
but when they were in the coffee shop and sitting at a smaller table, she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne and
see the smoky gray of his eyes. If he was this good-looking at fifty-seven, she could only imagine how handsome he’d been
in his younger years.
“It’s okay, Amy. You can admit I was right about Single Mingles.” Laura took a slurp.
“You were sort of right.” She turned serious. “I did have a good time with him. He’s easy to talk to.”
“And easy on the eyes. You should see his LinkedIn profile picture.”
“Looks aren’t everything.” Daniel had been stunning in his twenties. Black curls he’d kept longer than his chin, pale-green
eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and a lean physique that had made her sixteen-year-old knees turn to goo the first time
they met. No, looks meant nothing when the person who had them was a raging alcoholic, a selfish husband, and a deadbeat dad.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Max?” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Did he text you?” she asked.
Amy nodded. “Three times.” The other two had been to wish her a good day. So far, no mention of a second date—er, meeting.
Laura took her white umbrella out of her drink and waved it. “I surrender. You’re obviously not going to tell me what happened.”
She pouted. “Even though I’m the one who made it happen.”
“I’m sorry. I was just yanking your chain a little.”
“I know, but this is serious. You haven’t been on a date—”
“—it wasn’t a date—”
“—since your divorce. As your best friend, of course I’m interested.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Amy said again, more firmly this time. “And nothing happened. We went to Madeline’s for coffee after karaoke
started.”
“You’ve got to be the only person I know who doesn’t like karaoke.”
If Laura had experienced a drunk Daniel making a fool of himself on karaoke night—not once, but four times—she’d understand.
Amy had to take some responsibility for believing him when he said he wouldn’t drink or misbehave again. But his words were
hollow. First there would be only one or two drinks. That turned into several, and by the time he got on stage—after Amy begged
him not to—he could barely say a coherent word, much less sing a song.
They’d even gone to other karaoke nights at different bars, and he’d embarrassed her and himself at each one. The last straw
had been the final night, five years into their marriage and after two years of supposed sobriety. He’d been so drunk he started
cursing at everyone, including her. She’d left him there that night and found out later the owner had to call a cab to take
him home. There was some guilt over that, but not much.
She clenched her drink. She hadn’t been to a karaoke night since.
“So you just talked?” Laura asked. “Nothing else?”
“Yes, that’s all we did. You know I’m not that kind of girl. You’re not that kind of girl either.”
“I didn’t mean you slept with him.” Laura plopped her umbrella back in her drink. “If you had, you would have gotten a huge
lecture from me. But there’s nothing wrong with a little kiss or two.”
Amy held up her hand. “No kisses. Or hugs. We shook hands, though.”
“How scintillating.”
Amy chuckled. “That’s about as scintillating as I get. I did have a great time with Max. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”
She held up her hand as Laura started to speak. “As friends. That’s all I’m interested in.” And ready for.
Laura grinned. “That’s progress.” She paused. “I do envy you. I wish...”
“What?” She leaned closer to her friend.
“That I wasn’t so lonely.” She sighed. “I miss being married. I miss having a man in my life to share the burden. Farah’s
a huge help, but she’s so young and still getting over her grief. She misses Gary so much. We both do.”
Amy took Laura’s hand. Farah was only sixteen and had taken her father’s death extremely hard. Britt was eight when Amy and
Daniel had divorced. It was hard on her. And on me too. But they made it through together. Her daughter had been her constant companion. Maybe that was the reason Amy wasn’t looking
for anyone else. She wasn’t lonely... at least not too much.
Laura squeezed her fingers and let go. “I’m not happy being single. I want to fall in love and get married again. I’m too
young to live the rest of my life alone.”
Her words hit Amy square in the chest. She hadn’t realized her friend was suffering so much. “I’m sure God has the right man in mind for you.”
“Then I wish he would hurry up.” Laura leaned back in her chair. “Or maybe he’s trying to teach me patience.”
“Is there anyone in the group you’ve hit it off with?”
“Not romantically. They’re all nice, but there’s no spark.”
“If Max were interested in dating, I’d set you two up,” Amy said.
She smiled. “Now that’s a true friend. Just give me advanced notice. I need to lose twenty pounds first.”
“Hardly.” Amy wagged her finger at her. “Besides, Max doesn’t seem to be a shallow guy.”
“How would you know? You look the same as you did in high school.”
“Another lie.” But Amy was lucky she’d kept her figure somewhat trim over the years. She chalked it up to hustling after high
schoolers for decades. But gray hairs were coming in fast, there was more sag in her upper arms than she liked, and her crow’s
feet were spreading. Welcome to middle age.
For the rest of the evening, she and Laura abandoned relationship talk, and over a fresh, crisp salad and garlic bread, they
played cards outside until the string of soft white lights draped across the patio eave came to life.
Around seven, Laura’s Taylor Swift ringtone sang from her phone. She picked it up. “All done? Good. I’ll be there in twenty.
Love you too.” She ended the call and stood. “Pool party’s over. I’ve got to pick Farah up in McKinney.”
McKinney. Where Max worked. He lived in Fairview, though. A very expensive town that wasn’t far from Allen. Although, with Dallas metro traffic, it seemed a long way. Wait. It didn’t matter where he lived, or how far away he was. She wasn’t going to obsess over whether she saw Max again.
When Laura started to gather up the dishes, Amy stopped her. “I’ve got it. You go get Farah.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. It’s not much.”
Laura gave her a hug. “Thanks for a great night.” As she walked away, she added, “I’ll let you know when we have another Mingles
activity.”
“I said I was one and done—”
“Ta-ta!” She opened the privacy fence gate and left before Amy could lodge another protest.
Once Amy finished the dishes and tidied the kitchen, she glanced at the time on the stove: 8:13 p.m. Britt had texted her
earlier, telling her she was going shopping for wedding dresses with Savannah, so Amy wasn’t too worried. In fact, she was
glad her daughter had agreed to be her friend’s maid of honor.
But as she walked to the living room and sat in the recliner, she wondered if she should text her. Were specialty dress shops
open this late? Maybe they had gotten a bite to eat, although she wasn’t sure if Britt would agree to that.
Amy had been so focused on school this year that it had escaped her notice that Britt was spending more and more time at home
than she had in the past—and that wasn’t counting the hours she spent on her online job. Now that Amy was off work and had
more time to think back, and to pay attention to the present, she could see Britt was really struggling with her anxiety again.
Their Saturday shopping spree had been fun, but Britt was tense the entire time, even though she valiantly tried not to show
it. She’d hesitated going into Grimaldi’s too, but gave in.
Amy’s heart ached. Over the years, Britt had been in and out of therapy and had taken and abandoned several prescriptions. She didn’t blame her daughter for not taking them. If they weren’t working, she shouldn’t. Her teen years were the worst, but as an adult she still wrestled with anxiety disorder. However, Amy had thought this last counselor had been tremendously helpful, and when Britt stopped seeing him two years ago, she seemed less nervous and more willing to be in social situations.
Amy was proud of how her daughter built up her business to be such a success, but at what cost? The counselor had pointed
out that Britt’s occupation choice could impede her growth. “The best thing for social anxiety is to be social,” he’d said. And she was—a little bit. Amy frowned. Or maybe she’d thought Britt was more social because she did a few volunteer
activities at church. Actually, just one.
Picking up her phone again, she glanced at the time. Eight thirty. She frowned. She was being ridiculous. Britt was close
to thirty years old. But I’ll always be her mother. Some days she longed for the time when her biggest concern about her daughter was whether she wanted apple or orange juice,
and how to keep her curly hair tamed for her yearly school picture. No one warned her that the problems and worries got bigger
as children got older.
She started to set the phone down when a notification popped up. Britt?
But it was a message from Max.
Stemming her disappointment, she clicked on it.
Max: Hi.
Amy: Hi.
She waited for him to respond. And waited... and waited. Well, this was weird. Had he accidentally texted her? After another
five minutes:
Max: Sorry. Had to take a call.
Amy: A lawyer’s work is never done.
Max: True. But this time it was the pizza delivery guy. He’s lost.
Amy: Hopefully it won’t be too cold by the time it gets there.
Max: If it is, I’ll just warm it up. Anyway, I’m not sure how this nondating thing works, but I’ve got two tickets to a movie
at the Mango Movieplex. My admin couldn’t use them, so she passed them on to me.
Amy: What’s playing?
Max: New movies I’ve never heard of. One Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo
She paused. She liked old suspense movies, and she hadn’t seen that one.
Max: Want to go Monday night? That’s the only night Vertigo is playing.
Another hesitation. This was getting close to dating territory. Or not. Friends went to movies too.
Amy: Sure. As long as I pay for my ticket.
Max: No can do, they’re free.
Amy: Then I buy the popcorn.
Max: And I’ll get the Milk Duds.
Amy: Junior Mints for me.
Max: Great. I can pick you up beforehand.
Amy: I’ll just meet you there.
Max:...
Uh-oh. Hopefully she hadn’t insulted him. She waited as the dots disappeared, reappeared, and then went away for a few minutes altogether.
Nuts. She should have just told him to pick her up. Friends picked up friends too. She shouldn’t be overthinking it—
Max: Sorry again. Pizza’s here. Sure, we can meet there. Movie starts at 7. I’ll be outside waiting.
Amy smiled.
Amy: Thanks. See you then.
She set her phone down, continuing to grin. Then she felt a little guilty. Laura had just admitted to feeling lonely, and here Amy was going out with a man when she could take him or leave him. A friendly outing, but still. She really wished she could fix Laura up with him, but that wouldn’t be fair to her since she wanted romance and he didn’t. Maybe next time he suggested going somewhere she could ask Laura to join them.
Another idea occurred to her. She could ask Britt to go with them. That would get her out again, and she could probably get
another ticket. Then she discarded the thought. Britt didn’t like going to movies. They’d always watched them here at home.
Amy rose from the chair, taking her phone with her. She needed to stop worrying and let Britt find her way. Easier said than done. She entered her bedroom and decided to take a hot bath. Her muscles were starting to ache from her war on weeds. And she’d
leave her phone on her nightstand, so she wasn’t checking it every five—make that two—minutes.
Britt was fine. She was with Savannah, and Amy was sure they were both having fun.
***
“Wasn’t that so much fun?”
Britt glanced at Savannah, who was driving her back to the first dress shop they’d visited more than four hours ago. Britt
had left her car there and they went to three other bridal shops, stopping for a bite to eat in between the last two. It turned
out Savannah’s favorite dress was at the first shop, and she intended to go back in the morning and put down a deposit. They
didn’t even talk about Britt’s or the bridesmaids’ dresses. Today was all about Savannah.
“It was...” Britt wanted to say okay, which was the truth. Instead, she perked up her tone. “Great. Really great. I’m glad
you found your dress.”
“Me too. Thanks for your input, Britt. I wouldn’t have been able to decide without it.”
That made the whole ordeal worth it. While going to bridal shops hadn’t been socially stressful since there weren’t very many
people in the stores, she hadn’t realized until now how picky Savannah was. True, it was her wedding and she wanted it to
be perfect, but she rejected dresses for the most insignificant reasons—the hem was a quarter inch too short, or the lace
pattern was too lacy, or the color wasn’t pure white. Britt’s life revolved around color and even she couldn’t tell the difference
between the shades of the dresses. But Savannah could. Britt wondered if part of the “fun” of shopping for her friend was
to keep the sales ladies hopping.
The only saving grace was that Savannah had been so singularly focused, she hadn’t noticed that by the time they got to the
second store, Britt was only half paying attention. She’d tried to be involved, but Hunter kept popping up in her mind. She
still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to give him art lessons. But the bigger shock was that he wanted to help her with her
anxiety. She was still kicking herself for telling him about that, but not too hard. What if he really could help her?
And she had to be honest—she wanted to spend time with him. That had to be the biggest shock of all. His gorgeous looks aside,
he was nice. At least he seemed to be. She was still going to keep her guard up, and if he made one wrong move, she was cutting
bait. But she sensed he was trustworthy. He must really be serious about learning how to draw if he was willing to help her
with her problem. It seemed like an unbalanced deal in her favor.
“There you go again.” Savannah turned into the store’s parking lot and put her convertible in park. “You’ve had something
on your mind all day.”
Oops. She considered denying it, but Savannah wouldn’t believe her. “I’m sorry. I should have been completely focused on you.”
“I had plenty of attention.” Savannah whipped her hair in an exaggerated motion. “I just hope you weren’t too bored.”
“No. I’m just...” Should she tell her about Hunter? Her gut said no. There would be too many questions and she wouldn’t
have all the answers. So she told her another truth. “I’m worried about disappointing you.”
“Britt.” She took her hand. “I know I had high expectations for the dress. And the cake and the flowers... Well, the whole
thing now that I think about it.”
“You’ll need to keep them low when it comes to me.” Britt’s stomach twisted.
“No, I don’t.” She squeezed her fingers. “You don’t have to worry about disappointing me. I know this is difficult for you
and I’m so grateful you’ll be by my side. No matter what happens, I’m going to be happy.”
“Even if the flowers start wilting?”
“Well, that might send me over the edge.” Savannah grinned and let go of her hand. “Thanks again for coming with me.”
“Thanks for asking me. And for being the best friend in the world.” She relaxed some. “Can you send me the list of your bridesmaids?
We need to start planning your shower.”
“Yes, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten to do that.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ve got the list here. Texting it to you now
before it escapes me again.” When she finished, she said, “Do you need any help?”
“Yes, but not from you.” She smiled and heard her phone in her purse buzz with the notification. “I might ask Mom for a little
assistance, though.”
“That would be great.” She hugged Britt’s shoulders. “Next challenge: bridesmaids’ dresses! Are you free next Saturday?”
She was always free. “What time do you need me?”
“I’ll text you.” Her phone rang. “It’s Justin.”
“Say no more.” She opened the car door as Savannah waved goodbye and put her phone to her ear. “Hey, babe. You won’t believe
the dress I’m getting—”
Britt shut the door and went to her car. She set her purse on the empty seat and started the engine, glancing at the clock
on the dash. Almost ten o’clock. She hadn’t expected to be gone that long, and she should have let Mom know she was running
late. Then again, she was an adult. She didn’t need to check in with her mother all the time.
As she drove home, she thought about Hunter again. No doubt he had tons of girls interested in him. He seemed so sure of himself,
she had to assume his social calendar was full. And yet he was willing to spend a lot of time with her.
Does he like me?
She slammed on her brakes, almost running a stop sign. She blew out a breath and gathered her senses, forcing herself to pay
attention to driving until she arrived home. When she turned off her car, she sat for a minute. Hunter liking her? Impossible.
Men like him didn’t give women like her a second look. Crazy-haired, pale-skinned, anxiety-ridden women. Don’t forget horse-faced. Ugh.
No, he was just a nice guy interested in art. That was all there was to it. And she needed to get her attraction to him under
control. Just because he was gorgeous and kind didn’t mean she had to like him. She shouldn’t like him. It would be a monumental waste of time, and she had other things to focus on. Her channel, her maid of honor responsibilities,
and... and...
Well, those two. But they were enough.
Only the living room light was on when she walked inside. She turned it off and headed for her room. Her mother’s room was down the hall, and she didn’t see light coming from underneath the door, so she assumed Mom was asleep. After she changed out of her shirt and pants and put on a pink Manga T-shirt and candy-striped cotton shorts, she pulled back the covers on her bed and snuggled underneath them. One last look at her channel and she’d go to sleep.
She had seven DMs. One of them was from Hunter.
I forgot one thing, and I hope it’s okay to ask this. Can I get your number? H.
Her stomach turned into a butterfly garden. He wants my number! Then she shook her head. Art lessons, remember? She tapped her number into the message.
A minute later she got a text.
Thanks. See you next Monday.
She couldn’t help but smile as she quickly deleted the DM with her number in case she got hacked.
See you then.