Chapter Seven
ENLIGHTENING. THAT ONE word described Amarie’s field trip to the post office. Every man, woman, and child had greeted Leah, and by extension her, with a genuine smile. Located in the Town Mall, the mail window shared the equivalent of a studio apartment with the mayor, the sheriff, and the utilities company. Compared to one block in the nation’s capital, downtown Service equated to the square footage of a weekend farmer’s market. The stroll, which was the only way to describe the pace of Service, ended with the two of them sharing this quaint table in a rustic pub.
An L-shaped bar that serviced the patrons just interested in a drink was in the front. Couples holding hands, men in T-shirts and work boots, and groups of women chair dancing to tunes wafting through wall speakers filled rough-hewn square tables in the back. They had chosen a table in between the two sections closest to an empty stage, more of a single raised platform with a drum set and a microphone.
“So, you excited for tomorrow’s farm visit?” Leah asked, interlacing her fingers resting on the tabletop.
“Yes… I think.” She draped her crossbody bag over the chair back.
“I’m proud of you. Jumping into the fire from day one. Eli would say the same if he wasn’t a stubborn ox.” The way Leah looked away, Amarie sensed even a loving mom found Eli’s grumpy demeanor less endearing.
“I think Eli was more impressed with the money than me.” His features—well, the tension lines bracketing his eyes—had softened for the briefest of moments. Amarie found non-grumpy Eli rather handsome.
“He’s like his father, maybe like all men. Thinking he has to carry the weight of the world every waking moment. But we know differently,” she chuckled to herself. “They walk on water, but we,” she whispered, “we hold the hose.”
“Do we?” Amarie chuckled under her breath, thinking about all the times she’d heard Russell taking credit for one of her ideas. Without her running the office, he would’ve had a cashbox and a sticky pad stack, too.
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s one of our many superpowers. So, what do you want to eat?” asked Leah.
“They wouldn’t happen to have any biscuits, would they?”
Leah smiled; it was soft, rueful. “I’m afraid not. No one out-bakes a Calvary.”
Amarie could have taken it as vanity. But she really believed Leah was telling the truth. “Right. What do you recommend?”
“It’s Tuesday, so our choices are pepperoni rolls. Or rolls with pepperoni.”
“But the sign out front says barbeque and things?”
“Tuesdays are the things.” Leah made air quotes. “Options.”
“Weird.” That explained the lack of menus on the table. Refreshing really, to not have to stress over multiple choices.
“It’s a taste of West Virginia history. Dates back to the Italians who migrated to our area to work the coal mines at the beginning of the twentieth century.”
“In that case, bring on the meat and bread.” Amarie beamed.
The waitress came over, an older woman with coal-black strands pulled into a messy topknot.
“Good to see you, Leah.” She smiled, her blue eyes garaged under sweeping false lashes.
“You too, Delores. This is Amarie, our new hire.”
“Oh, I already know. Mrs. Lois came through on her way downtown. Told us that you’re the one driving that purple BMW out by the road.”
“Actually, it’s not all that drivable right now. It started spewing hot guts on the way up the mountain.”
“That sounds just awful.” Delores clucked. “Not to worry though. My oldest, Rocky, real name Sylvester, is just sitting around the house. He’d be happy to swing by and take a look.”
“No. No,” Leah chimed in. “Eli will take care of it for her.”
Delores shrugged. “Alrighty then. So, two coalminer sandwiches, hot or cold?”
Leah nodded. “We like our meat hot. Thanks, Dee.”
“Just like your boys, eh? I been hearing about the auction. Couple of Buchanans were worked up about the whole thing. Speak of the devil, did you hear that Kanaan released Bucky this morning? That man is a menace to this town. Poor Ruth.” Delores sucked air between her teeth, making a tsk sound. “Can’t understand why she stays. I wouldn’t—”
“Ah, Delores, our orders,” Leah prompted. “We’ll be sure to steer clear of Bucky. But I’d appreciate you talking up the auction.”
Mental note, there was a bad Bucky on the loose. Of course, Adele had been labeled a fierce feline who had become a plush pussycat for Amarie. She decided not to prejudge. It had been unbearable to be under the microscope of others. It hurt. Now, for this car business. First and foremost, Prince was her responsibility. She hadn’t asked for help, and she wouldn’t beg her boss’s help, even if his mother volun-told him.
“Sure thing, Leah. Food’s coming right up.”
“Leah, I can’t ask Eli to help with Prince.”
“Prince,” Delores repeated. “Your car has a name. Isn’t that the cutest thang?” Amarie startled. Their waitress had joined the conversation… again. “Eli’s been a big ol’ bear to everyone in town. Ask his mama, she’ll tell ya. He just can’t seem to help himself since—”
Leah chimed in before Delores could say anything else. “That’s Eli’s story to tell. We’re not ones to gossip. Are we, Dee?”
“You won’t hear me repeating gossip. ’Cause I say it loud enough the first time.” She laughed. “I forgot to ask what you two ladies are drinking?”
“I’ll take a cup of coffee. Decaf,” Leah said.
“Pepsi, light ice.”
“Oh, my goodness. This is Jack Daniels and Jim Beam country, honey. Everything on the top shelf goes down easy with Coke.”
“Ah, okay, no new-generation products. What about tea?”
“Tea, we got. Unsweetened, hot or cold?”
“Sweet,” Amarie said, affronted. “I’m a Southern girl through and through. Florida born. We take our tea sweet or not at all.”
“This is Service. So that’s two coalminers. One coffee, no thrills. And a lemonade ’cause the city girl with Southern roots needs her sugar fix.”
“Let the lady make her own choices, Delores,” her insta-bestie said in defense. “Is the lemonade okay, Amarie? You can order something stronger if you like. No judgment.”
Leah waited, not in a rush for Amarie to decide.
“I’ll try it.” Amarie nodded.
Leah raised her finger, pointing as if remembering something important. “Two creamers on the side, too. Thanks.”
Amarie swayed to the music, an upbeat country tune she remembered from the radio, until she lost the words and herself in the rolling notes.
Delores came back and placed the food in front of them, six thick-cut pinwheels of meat, gooey white cheese, and bread. And the fragrance of high-fat meat cured with smoky spices was absolutely soul stirring. Amarie’s mouth watered and she was ready to dig in until Leah bowed her head. Amarie lowered her fork, closed her fingers around Leah’s hand, and gave thanks. She’d set off from D.C. without a destination or a tune-up, but she’d arrived in Service and secured a job. Created an opportunity for herself and for that she had to be grateful.
“Do you like it?” Leah asked, while Amarie shoveled another forkful of stringy melted cheese and warm baked bread into her mouth. She would never insult her taste buds with another frozen facsimile of pepperoni rolls ever again.
“You can’t tell by the lack of responses?”
“Guess you couldn’t answer that without disturbing your fine dining experience.”
“No complaints from this girl.” Amarie laughed.
“I think we’re a good team, you and me.”
“Me too,” Amarie agreed.
“Next thing on the list. You can help me convince Eli the bachelor auction is a great idea.”
“You want me to do what?”
“Talk to Eli about the bachelor auction. I mean, you got those women to pay what they owe. It’s probably my fault that he’s too much of a gentleman to get into a row with a woman over money. After Cara and the divorce, it only got worse.”
Married? Eli “Grumpy Pants” Calvary?
“But look.” Leah thrust her phone at Amarie. She reached for it, scanning the online site, auctionluvbuzz.com.
Five pictures on a simple landing page: Eli, Tobias, and Noah, all in uniform. HERE COMES THE CALVARY’S BACHELOR AUCTION in large script above their profile pictures. The bids totaled just shy of eleven hundred dollars. Not bad for less than forty-eight hours.
“Huh, Eli’s wife… the marriage, what happened?” Amarie asked, injecting casual into her tone, handing the phone over.
“What didn’t?” Leah sighed. “Wasn’t much matrimony in a marriage of nine months. That woman was too superficial, selfish—but my baby was in love for the first time. So, we did our best to celebrate the good times and love him through the bad. He came home four months ago.” Leah swallowed. “After I lost my Levi.”
“Oh, Leah. I’m so sorry. How awful.”
“It still is. It’s hard to see your child hurting and unhappy. You spend most of your life protecting your babies from the big hurts, nursing them through the bumps and bruises. The instinct is still there even when he wears size thirteen boots and stands head and shoulders above you.”
The loss of a husband, a daughter-in-law, dwarfed Amarie’s problems. Perspective changed things. “Wow, size thirteen you say?”
“Is that all you heard?”
“Well no, there’s that part about you being an awesome mom. And Cara something or other hurting your baby.”
Leah smiled. “Anybody ever tell you, you have a way with words?”
“I have quite the history with saying all the wrong ones.”
“Eh, being perfect is overrated. I like you just the way you came to us, bold and ready for an adventure.”
“Thank you, Leah. Not that you’ve sold me. But which part do you want me to convince him to buy?”
“It is that obvious that he’s totally against the idea?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Eli turns raspberry red every time he sees pink, or a woman mentions the auction.”
“That’s the one. Maybe you could ease him into giving the idea some serious consideration.”
“Most men appreciate subtlety. Not Eli. He literally hates it. And from what I’ve seen, he’s not very fond of feminine attention.”
“He wasn’t always so gruff. And the clinic could use the money.”
Amarie had noticed the revenue had taken a sharp decrease in the last five years.
“Uh, can I think on it?”
“Absolutely, how about you sleep on it.”
“Ah, so,” Amarie lowered her voice, “I haven’t had a chance to look for a hotel.”
“Oh, that’s easy. There isn’t one.”
“Oh… what—what about a bed-and-breakfast?”
“Not one of those, either.” Amarie’d had no idea there were actually towns without guest accommodations.
“So, where do visitors stay?”
“Well,” Leah chuckled, “when there is one, they stay with family or friends. I’ll get one of the boy’s rooms ready for you.”
“Leah,” Amarie paused. “I can’t pay you until… well, I’m short on cash and options at the moment. But—but I’ll pay you back, promise.”
“That’s the thing about friends, Amarie. There’s no charge. We’re just here for one another when needed. You’re good company. And,” she sniffled, “it’s nice not to be alone.”
Amarie sighed, overwhelmed with gratitude. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you seems… not enough.” She tilted her head back, searching for words to express the growing sense of peace after a day heaped with turmoil.
Leah stood. “That’s good enough for me. You ready to head back?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Amarie.” She turned at the sound of her name. It was the woman behind the bar. Leah had mentioned she’d inherited the business after her grandmother’s passing.
“Yes?”
“You have to rub your hands over the bear pelt on your way out the door. It’s a newcomer tradition. Tells everybody you’re one of us.”
Wow. A jolt of dopamine flooded Amarie with warm pleasure. It was juvenile, but today felt like the best field trip. The ones were the cool kids invited her to share their bench seat on the bus. And she got to share their cool-kid lunch. She couldn’t stop her emotions from tangling her frayed heart around today and holding on.
“You sure?”
“A friend of Leah’s is a friend of mine.”
She sniffled, on the verge of leaky tears again. “Okay.” She nodded.
Pinned to the wall was a large animal hide, rich chocolate in color with individual hairs reaching for her before she touched it. She’d never been much of a hunter-gatherer type, but there was a sense of joining a community, like she had her very own pack after years of being a lone she-wolf. Her fingers trembled as they sank into the plush fibers.
Gracie Lou raised a frosted mug. “This is Service.”
A cheer rang out and Amarie smiled at having been included. Once outside, Leah threw an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m okay.” Amarie reassured to hide the swell of emotion flooding her like a dam breaking at high tide.
“I know you are, but sometimes it’s nice to get a hug after a bad breakup.”
“How did you know?”
“Oh dear, Levi and I were married all my adult life. Love’s like a cast-iron skillet, sometimes it cooks perfectly.” She shook her head. “Other times it’s a scorched mess. I know what a woman looks like after a man has hurt her heart. Believe me, you want to run as fast and hard as you can to put distance between you and that kind of pain.”
The tears did fall then. Amarie couldn’t seem to stop them. “I don’t understand how he could throw me away,” she hiccupped, “like I never meant anything to him.”
They stopped on the bridge, listening to the trickle of water over rocks. More and more, the pain flooded her heart. Amarie gave in, pushed against the dam she’d built year after year. Her body vibrated with the sheer magnitude of all she’d endured at love’s illusion.
“It’s not fair, you know,” she turned her face to Leah, “that he stopped loving me. I know that sounds weird… crazy. But I imagine that whenever I left his sight, Russell, that’s the ex, he crammed all of me into this too-small box, so tiny that all the wonderful parts of us got buried, forgotten. Just a subtle flirt from another woman and… he forgot that he loved me. That I mattered to him. His one.” She kind of laugh-snorted at her description of six years of late-night conversations, family holidays, their birthdays.
“Some men are slow to learn the value of a good woman by their side. Some are too selfish with their grand plans to make room in their lives for real love. And some are just stupid. You ran into one of the stupids.”
“Oh, gosh, that’s funny.” The crying continued, but with intermittent fits of hearty laughter. Her mother would’ve been horrified at Amarie’s breakdown. She would’ve given Amarie a firm shake, dried her eyes, and lifted her chin. “You must think I’m a crazy person. Crying. Laughing. I’m a mess. I’m-I’m so sorry, Leah. Look at me, carrying on.”
Leah stopped. “I am looking at you. And you’re entitled to be angry, disappointed, impulsive, and unsure, Amarie. I’m angry with my husband.”
Amarie’s breath hitched in surprise. No, that couldn’t be right. “For dying?”
“No.” She inhaled, and then let her eyes drift closed. “Because nothing in life prepares you for death. The way we moved around each other—laughing, loving, worrying, raising three hard heads for thirty-five years—it just stops. No more memories. No more moments. We think heartbreak prepares us, but… there’s a second chance at love if we allow it.” She released a choppy exhale, looking over at Amarie. “I’m mad that he loved me completely for who I am. Spoiled me.” She smiled, a sadness weighing it down. “I miss sharing the insignificant details of my day with him. When I first lost him, it hurt to breathe. The air in my lungs mocked me because if I could, I would have given it to him. What was I without him?” she trailed off.
“And now?” Amarie asked, wanting the answer to the question she asked herself.
Leah shifted in her direction, their shoulders bumping. “Like you, I’ve decided to do more than survive. I want to thrive in this next chapter of my life. My Levi is a string from a kite that never soars far from me, though. But, somedays, I give myself permission to fall apart.”
When did going to pieces become an option? Women had to be strong, bold, and put together. Amarie had to be every woman, but not a real person with feelings and emotions. How could she admit she wanted to punch, kick, and scream at the world? Why did she have to pretend she didn’t need help, when she did… a lot? Confusing, it all was.
“You think so? Really? That it’s okay to feel lost and fall apart?”
“With all these gray hairs under this color, I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, I would hate for you to think badly of me.”
Leah chuckled. “So what if I did? How others feel about you ain’t worth a pillar of wet salt. My grandmother used to say that. And you know what?”
“Is this a challenge question? Because I’m terrible with coming up with the right answer when under pressure,” Amarie said, in all seriousness. At her age, she felt as if her understanding of the world amounted to Swiss cheese with a touch of mold.
“She was always right. Now, come on, let’s get home before one of these menfolk think we need a ride.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Oh, you have a lot to learn about small-town dating. Riding in a man’s truck, that’s as good as going steady in Service.”
“Really?” She gasped in awe.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“No,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t.” Too many people she trusted in the past had. Leah also didn’t judge, whereas others had been verbose in their assessment of her shortcomings. And wasn’t that the best feeling, freedom to be imperfect?
So Amarie walked back up the mountain, with tears in her eyes and Leah by her side. This was the conversation she wanted to have with her own mother. Slim chance of that happening, but she guessed it was okay to cry with a member of the pack. Leah’s advice didn’t bruise or punish. It soothed with the healing strength of an age-old salve passed down through generations.
“Um… I’ll have to think about my strategy if I talk about the auction with Eli.”
“It’s your decision,” Leah patted her hand, “and we have time.”
“Oh, what should I do with the mail?” Amarie asked, reaching for her purse.
“You’re the office manager now. Open the clinic mail and sort it. Eli detests paperwork.” Leah’s giggle seemed more related to the past than the present. “So like his father.”
Amarie sighed in relief. “No problem.”
A day piled high with worry over cars, jobs, food, and a place to lay her head had ended with her surviving in the wilderness. For now, she had a home with the Calvarys. Mentally, she added it to her to-do list. First, get settled. Second, call Vali to spill the tea on today’s wins. Third, call her mom, who with their past history had to be popping Xanax skittles with worry. And finally, crack the spine on the licensure exam study guide. But she wouldn’t unpack because come morning, if she mentioned the auction to Eli, she’d have to find a new place to live… and work. What she needed to figure out was how to be indispensable to her new boss.