CHAPTER 4 Amelia
Amelia
Bella’s back!
The thought flashes through my mind before I’m even properly awake. It’s been ten days since the wedding, which means it’s been ten days without my bestie around to debrief with. To vent with. Instead, I’ve been alone with my thoughts. Not a pleasant place to be, as it turns out.
AMELIA: Welcome home, B! Are you working today??
I send this message, ignoring the fact that the sun has barely risen and the newlyweds are probably still asleep. If it makes me seem desperate to see my friend, then the truth is out there. I am desperate to see Bella. Her absence has made me acutely aware of how few people I have in my life who I can turn to in times of distress.
BELLA: Yes! Come by for a coffee, I can’t wait to see you!
Bella’s almost immediate response warms my insides and I lie back down in bed, instantly feeling soothed. I’m scheduled to work the afternoon shift at the hair salon today, so I have all morning to spend hanging out with my bestie while she works.
AMELIA: I’ll be there as soon as you open. Tell Lilly to have the brownies ready for me!
Lilly and Bella work together in Lilly’s café, Love, Lilly, which they recently expanded to include a small art gallery to display the works of local artists, Bella included. They’re both so driven that this joint venture is already a resounding success. I couldn’t be prouder of them if I tried.
With my plans for the morning locked in place, I slowly make my way to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Taking down my box of Melbourne Breakfast tea, my mind flashes back to that night with Jake, as it has done hourly in the days since then. The whole encounter was a tangled mess, starting with that note.
That damn note, which I’d burned in a ritual cleansing ceremony a few days ago, very Practical Magic of me. I’d thought if I could rid myself of the bad juju associated with the note, that maybe I’d be able to move on, put it all behind me, but alas, it didn’t work. Probably because I’m not really haunted by the note itself. Instead, it’s the images of Jake without his shirt on, Jake with his glasses on (or off, either works for me), Jake carrying me to his car, which are keeping me awake at night. It’s maddening that, after six months of not seeing him, not thinking of him (much), he’s crept back into my thoughts. Like that song in your head that you just can’t shake. What’s that called again?
The kettle whistles and I pour boiling water into my cup with one hand while Googling with the other.
An ‘earworm’, that’s it.
“The sticky music syndrome whereby music memories repeat uncontrollably in your head.” I read this out loud while taking my first sip of tea. Otherwise known as the best sip.
“That’s what that night with Jake has turned into, a memory that repeats uncontrollably,” I say to my cactus plant, Callie, who sits in a prime position on the kitchen windowsill. After several attempts at cultivating a small garden on my balcony, each with disastrous results (read: many, many dead plants), Bella gave me what she termed the “unkillable plant” and we’ve been happily co-habituating ever since. As it turns out, Callie the Cactus is an excellent listener. Not judgemental at all.
“Maybe I should Google how to get rid of an earworm?”
Callie doesn’t respond (fair), and I force myself to put the phone down and walk away. This sort of behaviour is bordering on crazy-town. All I need to do is see Bella, hash it all out and put it behind me. It was just one night, not even a night, really. Ninety minutes of madness, tops. Why is it bothering me so much?
Ignoring that I know the answer to this internal question, I head to my small but practical bathroom, to get ready for the day. Once I see Bella, I know things will feel better. She’ll talk me down off this ledge that I’ve made my way onto in her absence and everything will go back to the way it was. Me hating each and every man, the way it always should be.
*****
“Millie!”
Before I’m even through the front door of Love, Lilly café, the little bell above the door still ringing as it closes behind me, I’m enveloped in the arms of my best friend. I breathe her in and wrap my arms around, instantly better.
“Never leave me again.”
Bella laughs, like I’m joking, and squeezes me tight. “I missed you too.”
I shoot her a disbelieving look, because she just spent ten days on a tropical island with her hot firefighter husband. There’s not a chance that she even thought of me.
“I did,” she protests at the look on my face.
I pretend to believe her because it feeds my neglected ego.
“Come sit. Lilly has the brownies waiting for you. Though I’m going to say it one more time, brownies should not be a breakfast food.”
I start to argue this incorrect statement, but Lilly does it for me. “Brownies are an every-food. Suitable for any and all occasions.”
I grin at her, loving that it’s 8 a.m., and she’s already a chaotic mess. This is Lilly to a tee. She’s beautiful with her wild dark curly hair and big blue eyes, but she’s always on the wrong side of dishevelled. Take right now: she has flour in her hair and on her apron. And on hershoes? And she has a chocolate moustache, making me think she’s been out the back sampling the goods. And the best bit? She doesn’t have a single care about any of it. Lilly is just comfortable in her skin; it makes me wonder how she got that way.
“Amelia! Sit, eat!” Lilly pushes me into one chair at what she deems her best table. It’s by the front window, perfect for people watching but still close enough to the counter for chatting while they both work.
I happily take my seat at the VIP table, slicing into my still-warm-from-the-oven-brownie with the fork she’s shoved into my hand.
“So good!” I exclaim as the chocolate flavour explodes in my mouth. I don’t know what she puts in these brownies, but I do know they are the best I’ve ever tasted.
“Bella, you sit with Amelia and catch up. We’re not too busy now, so take advantage.”
We watch as Lilly skips away, humming under her breath as she goes, the very picture of contentment.
“She’s the best boss,” Bella says, sipping on her cup of coffee. “I’m so lucky.”
“You are,” I agree.
“So, tell me, what have I missed since I’ve been gone?”
This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for. The chance to unload all my woes on her, and yet now that it’s here, I don’t know where to start.
“Ummm,” I start and then stop. What’s wrong with me?
“What’s wrong?” Bella sits up straighter in her chair. “What happened?”
Wishing I hadn’t been so hasty in burning that note—it would have come in handy as the perfect prop in this moment—I open my mouth to fill her in when the bell on the front door trills. Distracting me.
“What…?” Only one word comes out as I continue to be a stuttering mess, but this time with good cause. Because the ringer of the bell, the man who had just walked in the door, is none other than the man who’s been walking through all my thoughts.
My earworm has entered the building. Jake.
Bella follows my gaze and looks back at me with a confused frown. “You know Jake?”
WHAT?
“You know Jake?” I screech back at her, so loud that the man in question turns to look at both of us, his small smile growing as recognition flashes in his eyes.
“He’s coming over,” I hiss at Bella, who continues to look annoyingly baffled by my behaviour. “He’s coming over!”
“Hi Bella,” he greets my best friend in that deep voice of his. The one that causes the back of my neck to sweat. “Amelia.”
“You two know each other?” Bella looks between the two of us, eyebrows raised so high they may just fly off her face.
“Yes,” I mumble, looking down at the table between us to avoid looking into Jake’s green eyes. Which somehow looks lighter today, more jade green than emerald. “He’s Robby’s brother.”
Bella’s expression turns from bemusement to disgust in a millisecond. Out of all my rubbish boyfriends, Robby’s the one she hated the most.
“Oh.” Her flat response has a strange anxiety dancing in my belly. I don’t want her to feel this way towards Jake, and I also don’t want to examine exactly why I feel this way.
“By that ‘oh’, I understand you’ve met my brother,” Jake interjects before I can come to his rescue. Which is good, because there’s no legitimate reason he’d need rescuing in the first place. As far as I know, he’s just a customer here. Bella doesn’t need to like him.
Except that she does.
“Jake’s nothing like Robby,” I blurt out before my mouth catches up to my brain.
His face lights up at this, like I’d handed him a gift. “Thank you, Mille.”
Bella gives me a disbelieving look, like I’d betrayed her, and then glares at Jake, not convinced that he’s completely innocent in all of this.
“Seriously, Bella. It’s not his fault that his brother’s a douche.”
“True story,” Jake agrees, putting both of his hands up. An act of surrender.
“Your brother is non buono,” she tells him, slipping into her native Italian as she does when she’s distracted or sad…or fuming mad.
“Absolutely, non buono,” he says, biting his lip to stop the start of a smile. “I agree.”
She continues to look at him, a long, hostile look that reminds me of her hot-blooded Italian nature and after a full sixty seconds of glaring, (I counted) she relaxes. A bit.
“Good, then you can continue to come here and eat.”
The matter seemingly settled, Jake gives her a funny little bow and walks to the counter to order his coffee and breakfast, from the sounds of it.
“Does he come here often?” I ask, keeping my voice low, acutely aware that, at this time of day, before the morning rush of people, our conversation can be heard by anyone interested in listening.
Bella leans in, like we’re two spies devising a plan. “He’s been coming here almost every day for…” She leans back to think. “About six months.”
Huh? That’s right around the time that I broke up with Robby. Weird.
“It’s strange that you haven’t bumped into each other, given how often you’re both here.”
That is strange. I watch Jake from under my lashes, my spot at the VIP table giving me the perfect viewpoint from which to ogle him. I mean, objectively run my eyes dismissively over him.
“You never told me how hot Robby’s brother is.” I shush Bella and her not-so-soft voice, my attention glued to Jake’s back.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend’s brother,” I say, explaining the obvious, while letting my gaze drift over the way his suit jacket hugs his broad shoulders just so. I wonder where he finds the time to build up those muscles. From memory, the Jake I’d known worked ridiculously long hours.
“So?” My friend’s indignant tone pulls my attention back to her. “That doesn’t mean you have to be blind. My husband is a gorgeous specimen of a man and I can still appreciate all that Clark Kent goodness going on over there.”
I groan, my cheeks heating, well aware that Jake can most likely hear every word that is coming from my not-so-subtle best friend.
“I’m not talking about this with you right now.” I tilt my head in Jake’s direction, hoping she will take the hint and shut the heck up. All this talk of Jake as the hot Superman counterpart will not help me get rid of this pesky earworm, now, will it?
“Fine.” She heaves a sigh. Dramatic, much. “Then what are we allowed to talk about?”
From the corner of my eyes (OK, from the front and back of my eyes, that’s how close my attention is on this man), I follow Jake’s progress at the counter. He takes his freshly heated croissant and take-away coffee and walks it to the table…right next to ours.
“Nothing,” I mumble, well aware that I can’t update her on all things related to the note and what happened thereafter. “I’ll tell you later.”
Not picking up on any of the cues I’m putting down, she persists. “You wanted to tell me something. Sounds like it was important. On the night of the wedding, you sent me a garbled text message about a note. What was that all about?”
“I sent you a message?” Confused, I pull up my text messages and scroll back ten days, and there it is, in all its nonsensical glory:
AMELIA: A note! After all this time I get a note?!?
“I tried calling you back, but it went straight to voicemail. And then I had to leave for the airport the next day,” Bella explains while I put my head on the table and bang it, just a little, to knock some sense into it. “What’s going on?”
I take in her worried expression and, keeping my voice as low as possible, barely above a whisper, I outline what had happened the night of her wedding.
Bella, on the other hand, was not keeping her voice below a whisper. “He did WHAT?” In fact, her heated cry had every person in the café looking at us. Including Lilly from behind the counter. And Jake, whose face is the picture of contrition. Like this is somehow all his fault.
“Shhhhh,” I hiss, gesturing in Jake’s direction. “It’s all good now. I burnt the note, did a cleansing ritual. It’s all behind me.”
“Amelia,” she said, keeping her voice at a suitable decibel. Just. “What he did was so wrong.”
“I agree,” Jake’s voice chimes in, making it abundantly clear that he’s been listening to this entire conversation. “I’m going to kick his arse when he gets back.”
“Can I join you?” Bella asks, her cheeks red with rage.
“Absolutely!”
Before the two of them can bond any further over their tactics to beat up my ex-boyfriend, I put a stop to it.
“No violence is necessary here.” I give them both a hard look. “Let’s just move on.”
Bella huffs and looks like she wants to argue.
“Please, Bella. I just want to put the whole sorry thing behind me.”
She breathes out and relaxes her posture, no longer ready to charge into battle. “Yes, let’s put him right behind us. In fact, let’s not think of him ever again.”
I nod, sparing a quick glance in Jake’s direction, my gaze darting back to my friend when I see he’s still watching me.
“And you know the best way to get over someone…”
“I’m over him!” I interrupt, not liking where this is heading.
“Is to get under someone else,” she continues like I hadn’t spoken.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.” I shake my head and stomp my foot under the table.
“Yes.” She bangs her fist and spears me with a no-nonsense look. “It’s time.”
“I don’t want to. You know how I feel about relationships.” I look nervously in Jake’s direction, really wishing he wasn’t here listening to every miserable word I’m saying. “I’m terrible at the whole thing.”
Bella is quiet for a moment, like she’s mulling over my words before a smile grows on her face. A smile, which, quite frankly, is terrifying.
“Then let us help you.”
“No.”
She pats my hand like I’m being an unruly child and soldiers on, not listening to a word I’m saying. That word being ‘no’. Said repeatedly.
“You’ve just gone for the wrong guys.”
“You can say that again.”
My head swivels to look at Jake. Did he just say what I think he said?
“Excuse me,” I ahem at him. “We’re having a private conversation.”
He flashes a grin that he thinks is disarming, but is actually…OK, it’s very disarming. “Sorry, but it’s true. You dated my brother. Who’s an understudy for a drummer in a not-very-good band. I mean, that’s not a great endorsement of the men you choose to date.”
The tips of my ears heat and I’m glad I wore my hair down over my shoulders to hide the evidence of my shame. It’s true, I somehow end up picking the guy most girls would run from. I wonder what my therapist would say about this? If I actually went to therapy, that is.
“And before Robby was that guy, Jeremy. What did he do for a living?”
I roll my lips between my teeth and refuse to answer. This is getting humiliating.
“He was a mime!” Lilly yells through her laughter from her spot behind the counter.
Bella does her Marcel Marceau impression and I let out a chuckle. Oh boy, Jeremy. Not only was he a professional mime artist, if that even is a profession, but he wasn’t even a good one. What a dud.
“And who came before him?”
I let the silence drag out, refusing to partake in this trip down my nightmare dating memory lane.
“Alan! That’s it. He was a….” She trails off, her brow scrunched up in concentration.
“A dog-walker.” I give in and tell her, knowing that she won’t let it go. “There’s nothing wrong with being a dog walker.”
“There is when he combined it with being thirty years old and still living in his parent’s basement.”
She’s right. He had been a bit of a no-hoper, but he’d seemed so nice and caring. At the start. Before he inevitably turned into a jerk. Why do I attract these types of guys?
“You’ve picked some real stinkers,” Lilly says, sitting down and joining in, adding an extra sprinkle of humiliation to the conversation.
“What you need is someone with an actual job,” Bella announces, again loud enough for the whole café, block and surrounding suburb to hear.
“What does a job have to do with being a suitable partner?” I argue, because I feel like I should. Choosing a man based on his career feels all kinds of superficial and elitist and just plain wrong.
“Nothing,” she admits with a conciliatory smile. “But it’s more like breaking a habit. If you were to date an accountant, or a barrister or a carpenter…maybe things would work out differently?”
A laugh escapes me. “You’re just listing the ABCs of careers. There’s no validity in anything you’re saying.”
Lilly hums under her breath while she demolishes the cupcake in front of her, and Bella, well, she’s being too quiet for my liking. I can almost see the wheels turning as she watches me closely.
“Maybe that’s it.”
Uh-oh. Bella’s got an idea.A trickle of doom makes its way down my spine.
“We can make a game out of it.”
A game? Oh, I like games!
“What sort of game?” I’m intrigued, but still sceptical.
“You can make your way through the ABCs of professions. As a fun way to look for Mr. Right.”
I’m shocked into silence. Gobsmacked. Bella’s gone mad.
“Ridiculous idea,” I sputter out.
“I don’t think so,” Lilly chimes in while licking buttercream frosting off her fingers. “You’ve had little luck dating the traditional way. And what do they say is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing, the same way repeatedly and…” she trails off, searching for the rest of her point.
“And expecting a different result.” This is from Jake, who has now turned his body completely in our direction.
“You shush.” I point my finger at him and give him my fiercest glare. He does not need to be a part of this. “And you two, this is a terrible idea. Why can’t I just go back to dating like a normal person? You know, with all the fun dating apps out there?”
Lilly gives an adamant shake of her head. “Bad idea. Been there, done that, would not recommend.”
I smile slightly despite myself. Before Lilly had married Oliver, she’d dipped her toe into internet dating, only to find herself on a terrible blind date with a man who’d ended the evening by stealing her purse. She’s been very anti-online dating ever since.
“It was one bad egg, Lilly,” I tell her as we all share a laugh. “Not everyone you meet online is a kleptomaniac.”
“You met Robby online.” Again, this was the not-so-helpful voice of Jake chiming in, reminding me of this very unfortunate fact.
“Hush, you.” I glare at him again and motion with my hand for him to turn all the way back around and out of our private conversation.
“Just think about it,” Bella says, putting her hands into a prayer position and giving me her best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t even need to take it that seriously. We can just find some nice, fully employed men to set you up with and see what happens. If you don’t like the As, then we move on to the Bs.”
When she puts it that way, it doesn’t sound terrible. But even so, why are we even talking about this? I don’t want a relationship. Do I?
“We can keep it light-hearted,” Lilly adds, sensing my resolve weakening. “You go out on one date, then we all catch up to get a report. It can be a fun thing for the entire group!”
Great. Humiliation with an audience.
“I don’t know…” I waver.
“Come on, what do you have to lose?”
Without thought, I look in Jake’s direction, startled at his expression as he stares back at me. I don’t know what it means, but it makes my stomach flip. And starts my butterflies dancing. And my heart racing. All those good things you feel when you meet someone who you think could be the ‘one’.
I flick my gaze away from him and bite the bullet.
“OK, fine. I’m in.”
The girls cheer and I watch, a lump forming in my throat, as Jake looks down at the table in front of him, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.
What have I signed myself up for?
And how do I make it stop?