Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3) (14 page)

“I have strong feelings about having no plan for a financially viable future!” she said.

Frank studied her while she tried to slow her breathing and soothe her jangled emotions. He waited until she looked at him to say, “If it will make you feel better, I can start looking for a job now. Tonight.”

He was humoring her. Saying what he thought she wanted to hear. She had thought he was so steady and responsible, but maybe he was just like Tom. He’d leave all the heavy lifting of the relationship, all the dreary day-to-day things like power bills, loan payments, and rent checks to her. Not again. “Maybe we shouldn’t start the next phase until you
find
a job,” she snapped.

“If that’s what you want.”

Aimee lifted her chin. “It is.”

He met her gaze and nodded once. “Then it seems we both have work to do.” He stood up. “Shall we?”

He helped Aimee collect the leftover food and turn out the lights, and they walked to the car without speaking. When she stopped in the parking lot at A Time for Love, Aimee had the sudden feeling that she shouldn’t just let him go. She started to say so, but she hesitated. She needed to sort out her anger and frustration, what was directed at Frank and what was left over from Tom. She wasn’t ready for another emotional conversation right now.

Frank opened the car door, climbed out, and leaned down to look at her, his face solemn. “Thank you for the evening. It was very educational.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the piano lesson or not, and he was gone before she could ask.

Aimee slid her knife up and down to chop the onion smoothly. Her motions were mechanical, since her mind was miles away. Beside her, Leigh scooped cucumber slices into a bowl and paused.

“I’ve got an interview,” she whispered.

“You do? That’s great!” Aimee answered, and Leigh motioned for her to keep her voice down. “With the new contractor or somewhere else?”

“The new contractor. What about you?”

Aimee shook her head. “Nothing yet.”

“Surely they’ll call you,” Leigh said. “They’d be crazy not to keep you on. Or you may find something better. You’re ridiculously overqualified for this job.”

“Thanks.” Aimee kept her tone calm to hide the anxiety she was feeling. “I’m checking out other options. I’ll find something.”

She wished she knew what. She’d spent the past week filling out job applications and replaying her last date with Frank. To her surprise, she’d heard nothing from him or Edwina. She wasn’t sure what that meant. Were they giving her time, or waiting for her? But she didn’t see how she could even begin to think about marriage with someone who had no job, no plan, and no concern. Frank was right; she was still nursing resentment over the way Tom had treated her, especially the way their relationship had ended. She’d allowed him to dismiss her, as if all their time together had meant nothing. She’d disappeared quietly, with no fuss, and left him to get on with his life without her. She’d thought she was getting on with hers too, but now she felt bogged in a mire of negative emotions.

Tish, her self-appointed love life counselor, had advised Aimee to write Tom a letter, even if she never sent it, to tell him what she thought of him and how he’d made her feel. It would give her the chance to express all the things she’d never had the courage to say. At first, Aimee had rejected the idea, but she was starting to think it made sense. She would write it when she got home from work, and she might even send it.

To her surprise, once she started writing, she couldn’t stop. She filled page after page with her list of grievances. All the times he’d kept her waiting or hadn’t shown up. All the birthdays or anniversaries he’d forgotten or brushed aside with the excuse that he was too busy now, but they’d celebrate properly later. The way he’d kept hinting at marriage without ever actually proposing, leaving her with the feeling that she had to keep trying to earn the move from girlfriend to fiancée. The choices he made without ever asking her opinion.

When she finished, she set the letter aside. She wouldn’t send it. It was as much a criticism of her as it was of him. As she’d starting thinking since their breakup, she’d allowed herself to be treated this way. But she didn’t want to be ever again. She was tired of settling, tired of getting by with a job she didn’t really like, a life that didn’t really matter.

It was time for her to go after what she really wanted. Trouble was, she wasn’t exactly sure what that was. Frank? Maybe. But only if he pulled his own weight in the relationship. She didn’t want to sacrifice her dreams to keep him happy. Their life plan should be mutual, encompassing goals they agreed upon. And before they could agree on goals, she had to figure out what she wanted.

She pushed back her chair and went to the kitchen to fix a salad. Charlene had asked her the same question when they were discussing job strategy. What did she want? She’d always dreamed of starting her own business, but could she really do it? Create a business plan and put in the hours needed to make it work? And if she did, how would Frank fit into the picture?

She was still mulling over the questions when her doorbell rang. She answered it, and Tish stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. She pulled Lucas behind her, and Aimee checked her outfit and self-consciously smoothed her hair. She hadn’t been expecting visitors. Hopefully she wasn’t too untidy.

“Aimee, I’m so sorry for barging in on you like this,” Lucas began, but Tish interrupted.

“But we have something important to talk to you about.”

“Come in, have a seat.” Aimee motioned to the sofa. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Not yet,” Tish answered for both of them. “It’s about Frank. Lucas just got a call from Edwina.”

Aimee tensed. “Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.” Tish’s tone was dry. “What has Frank told you about his background?”

“Not much, really.” Aimee shrugged. “He’s from Alabama. He lives on a farm. He hasn’t gone to college. Unless that was just part of his cover story for the time warp date, like the whole enlisting in the Army story.”

Tish and Lucas looked at each other. Lucas made an almost imperceptible gesture, and Tish nodded. “Aimee, you mentioned that Frank apparently doesn’t drive. Have you noticed anything else that struck you as a bit odd?”

Aimee thought for a second. “Maybe the occasional oddity. Nothing major. Why? There’s something he hasn’t told me, isn’t there? I knew he was too good to be true. What is he, a criminal? A bigamist? An escaped mental patient?”

“Nothing as bad as those,” Lucas answered.

“Or maybe worse,” Tish said ominously. “You remember your time warp date, right? What if I told you that wasn’t just a setup for the date? That it’s where Frank is really from?”

“You mean he’s been
lying
to me? That he really lives here, in St. Louis?” Aimee asked.

“He’s not lying to you,” Tish corrected. “He just hasn’t told you the whole truth, probably because of Edwina’s guidelines.”

Lucas nodded. “She recommends waiting until Phase 3.”

“What do you mean? I know I can’t get contact information until Phase 3, but why wouldn’t he tell me the truth about where he’s from?”

“Not just
where
,” Lucas said. “
When
.”

Aimee ignored him. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said to Tish. “I just walked through the conference room at A Time for Love. Frank said he was from Alabama. How could I be at a barn dance in Alabama?”

“In 1917,” Lucas added.

Aimee wasn’t sure if they were teasing her or what, but it wasn’t funny. She shot Lucas a warning look and continued, “If you’re trying to warn me off Frank, please just tell me what’s going on.”

Tish sighed. “I’d better start at the beginning. You know that, after I saw how happy Dana was with Benjamin, I signed up with A Time for Love. Lucas was my second match. We sailed through Phases 1 and 2, and just as we were about to go to Phase 3, he disappeared.”

Tish told how she had confronted Edwina about Lucas’s absence and ended up in Florence, Alabama, in 1918, in the midst of a flu epidemic, which would be almost a year later than Aimee’s date first date with Frank. Tish had volunteered at Lucas’s medical clinic until the date for them to return to the present and only gotten him to the designated spot with the help of his mother and a neighbor.

Aimee listened to the entire story with her arms folded. When Tish finished, Aimee nodded. “So you’re from the past,” she said to Lucas. “Which only makes sense since there are no good men in this time period. That means Frank’s also from the past. Along with the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and leprechauns and elves, no doubt.”

“Frank and I grew up together,” Lucas said. “He’s a good man.”

“Show her the picture,” Tish urged.

Lucas fished in his pocket and pulled out a small metal rectangle, which he passed to Aimee. It was a miniature of a young male, dressed in turn-of-the-century knickers and jacket. His hair was slicked down, and his face wore a solemn expression she’d seldom seen on Frank, but the resemblance was undeniable. Aimee slumped against the sofa back and studied the portrait.

“It’s a picture from one of those old timey photo booths,” she argued feebly, but even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true.

No touristy photo booth would bother to replicate antique photographic techniques so authentically. Her mother had a collection of old family photos, and she recognized the metallic sheen of a gelatin silver print.

She stared at the photo for a long moment and then looked up. “How is this possible?”

“We’re not sure,” Lucas said.

“Our current theories are that Edwina is some sort of angel or that she’s an alien time traveler, who’s able to bring certain people into the present.”

Aimee half-smiled, but Tish’s face remained serious. “Does that mean Benjamin is from 1917 too?”

“No, he’s from earlier,” Lucas said.

“Remember when you said you thought time travel would be romantic?” Tish asked.

“No. No, I do not remember ever saying that. It’s not romantic at all. Just confusing.” She touched one fingertip to the photo. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure. Ask me anything about that time period,” Lucas offered.

“Can you tell me about Frank?”

After having so little information, Aimee stored every word of the stories Lucas told, about swimming in a creek near Frank’s farm, fishing for catfish from the pier, jumping from the loft in the hay barn, and earning pennies for Civil War bullets and uniform buttons they found in a field near the farm. He described the time Frank accidentally knocked him out with a baseball and the way they used to capture frogs to enter in jumping contests.

“Frank’s scared of frogs,” Aimee remembered.

“He is now,” Lucas agreed. “One of the stores sponsored a contest downtown. Frank’s frog won the first round, and a boy who was visiting from Murfreesboro said Frank cheated and let his frog go too early. He wanted a rematch, Frank said no, so he and a buddy held Frank down and dumped a whole bucket of frogs on him. Frank screamed louder than the time he hammered a nail halfway through his thumb.”

Aimee didn’t know what to think. The stories sounded authentic, and she didn’t know why Tish and Lucas would lie to her. But the whole thing was just too incredible to believe. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier?”

“We couldn’t, until you signed up with Edwina,” Lucas said. “There’s a confidentiality clause.”

“And afterwards?”

“I always intended to, if you started getting serious with Frank,” Tish said. “I told Dana I was going to tell you, and she said to call her if you had any questions.”

Aimee nodded, still staring at the photo. Finally she handed it back to Lucas. “Thanks. I just don’t know what to think.”

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Tish said. She put her hand on Lucas’s arm, and they stood up. “We’ll leave you to think about it.” She moved towards the door.

“Why did you decide to tell me now?” Aimee asked as she joined them.

“I almost forgot.” Tish shook her head at her own absent-mindedness. “Charlene said you told Frank you weren’t ready for Phase 3.”

“How could I be? He doesn’t have a job or a plan or anywhere to live! Although, if what you say is true…” Aimee trailed off. It would certainly put everything in a different light. Whether better or worse, she wasn’t sure yet.

“Completely understandable,” Lucas assured her. “However, if you’ve rejected him--”

“He may go back,” Tish explained.

“Back where?”

“Back to 1917. He called me and said he wants to see me one more time,” Lucas said.

“You need to think about what you really want,” Tish advised, unknowingly echoing Aimee’s own advice to herself. “If you don’t want to continue with Frank, let him go. If you do, I’d suggest you contact Edwina soon. Lucas will delay Frank, if he can, but you need to make a decision.”

“Why? What’s the rush? I need time!” Aimee protested. “It’s all been so much. I’m moving, I’m not moving. Tom’s gone. He wants me with him. I’m moving. He dumps me. I’m back. Then I meet Frank, and now I’m losing my job. I just don’t know what to do!”

She had promised herself she’d keep calm, but now she could feel tears threatening. Lucas cleared his throat and edged towards the doorway. “Um, I’ll give you two some privacy. See you back at your place, Tish?”

“Coward,” Tish said as the door closed behind him, but she didn’t sound bothered. She led Aimee back to the couch and sat her down. She wrapped an arm around her and let her sniffle until her tears had dried up.

“I’m sorry I’m such a crybaby,” Aimee said. “The rest of you have everything together, and I can’t seem to manage to get my life in order.”

“We don’t have things together any more than you do,” Tish assured her. “I’m still figuring out what job I want to do and how to handle family issues, and Dana’s adjusting to a new stepmother and to co-managing the store with Benjamin. We’re just better at hiding what a mess our lives are. Except maybe Charlene. I think she may actually be superwoman.”

“But your life’s not a mess. You have Lucas, and you’re about to start a great job.” Tish was leaving her job as an event planner at the Sherwood Plaza hotel and had accepted the position of Director of Development for a charity that helped victims of domestic violence.

“You can have a great job too. Quick now, without overthinking it, what’s your dream job?”

“Running my own business, like a small bakery.”

“Then do it.”

“I’m scared.”

“You should be. It’s very risky. But Charlene can help you with a business plan, and I can help you with my connections. If it’s what you want, you should do it now, while you don’t have braces or a minivan or a three-bedroom house in the suburbs to pay for.”