Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (30 page)

She was an adult and struggled with the same things that made Samantha cry, and dammit, she wondered why.

“Does anyone ever fall in love and stay that way?” Samantha said.

“I hope so. My sister has.”

She nodded. “She’s Brandon’s wife.”

Amy inclined her head in response.

“He used to babysit me. Did I ever tell you that?”

Amy wondered where this all came from, but Samantha stopped crying, so maybe it was best to let her talk.

“My dad says he really loves kids, and my parents would leave me with him and his ex-girlfriend when they went out for dinner sometimes.” She gave Amy an impish grin. “He took us to the park and out for ice cream. My dad says that I asked Brandon to be my boyfriend. I wanted to marry him when I grew up.”

“Emily might have something to say about that.”

“Maybe I can be their babysitter when they have a baby.”

Amy practiced her poker face. “You’ll have to talk to them. I’ll bet they’d appreciate the offer.” Amy stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. “Samantha, I know it’s hard to understand this stuff, but you’ll see it when you’re a little older.” Samantha glared at Amy a bit, and Amy added, “I know, I know. It used to piss me off, too, when adults would say that to me.”

Samantha picked up her handbag, walked past Amy, and made a beeline for the workroom’s bathroom. The door shut behind her. Amy followed her into the workroom.

“I made an appointment for two o’clock tomorrow for you. The woman’s wedding is in six weeks, and she wants a bouquet and a few boutonnières,” Estelle told Amy.

“Okay. Thanks for setting it up for me.” Amy leaned over the worktable. “How did I do there?” she stage-whispered.

“You did as well as you could under the circumstances.” Estelle patted her hand. “The teenage years are tough, especially when your parents are dating other people.”

Amy closed her eyes. “She’s not going to quit asking me questions.”

“No, she won’t.” She heard the smile in Estelle’s voice. “It’s up to you, though, how much you want to put up with.”

After the usual bathroom noises, Samantha emerged.

“I have to go home,” she informed Amy and Estelle. “My mom’s not going to be happy if I’m late for dinner.”

“Do you need me to drive you there?” Amy said.

“No. There’s a bus in about five minutes.”

Samantha had cleaned the smeared black pencil off her cheeks and eyelids. Her eyes were still red from crying, though. Amy reached into the walk-in cooler, fished out a cold can of Diet Coke, and handed it to Samantha.

“Here’s one for the road. I’ll walk you to the bus stop. Come on.”

Amy gestured toward the front door. Samantha waved goodbye to Estelle, and stuck the unopened can of soda into her handbag.

T
HE SIDEWALK BUSTLED
with young urban professionals who must have wrapped things up in the office a bit early on the gorgeous late-spring day. Some had already staked out sidewalk seating at a few of the cafes close to Amy’s shop, and settled in with friends for a chat. Samantha glanced into the shop windows of Broadway as she and Amy walked along.

“I’m glad you came to see me,” Amy told Samantha.

“So, we’ll talk again?”

“We will.” Amy breathed a sigh. “Listen, Samantha, I just want you to know that I don’t think I can fix this, but it’s not that I don’t care about what you had to say. I wish things could be different.” She reached out and ruffled Samantha’s hair. “I like spending time with you.”

“I like you, too.” Samantha tried to look bored. “You’ll still be my friend?”

“Of course. That’s never going to change.” Amy dug around in her pocket. “Do you have bus money?”

“I have a pass.” Samantha pulled it out of her purse.

Amy could see the bus ahead; it stopped at the curb, the doors opened, and Samantha turned to her once more. “I think you should give Matt another chance.” She stepped onto the bus, showed the driver her pass, and was heading toward the back before Amy could even respond.

An hour or so later, Amy finished the arrangement she started before Samantha’s visit. She took a few more orders that would need to be made for tomorrow’s deliveries, and she had a cup of coffee. She was still thinking about Samantha’s comments. After all, it was a bit surprising that Samantha would actually come to Crazy Daisy to plead Matt’s case. Amy was sure Matt would be less than happy to learn about Samantha’s visit. Estelle was out of the shop, so Amy grabbed the phone when it rang.

“Crazy Daisy.”

“Amy? It’s Laura Stephens. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Laura. How are you? Did Samantha make it home? She stopped by a little while ago.”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Laura took a deep breath. “Do you have a few minutes? We probably need to talk.”

“My employee is out on a delivery, but things are quiet. What’s on your mind?”

Amy liked Laura, even if she was Matt’s ex. Obviously Amy enjoyed Samantha’s company, but she and Laura had something else in common: They both owned a small business, and probably had most of the same problems as a result.

“Sam told me what she did. I apologize.”

“Laura, I’m not mad. I know she’s upset about this. I knew it was something that shouldn’t be discussed with a teenager, but I—I’m—I wasn’t sure what to tell her.”

“We had to have a long talk about how adult relationships are nobody’s business but theirs.” Even if Laura couldn’t see her do it, Amy shook her head a bit. “She has been told that whatever happens between you and Matt, it’s private.”

“I appreciate that. You know, I really like Samantha. You’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. Matt is so strict that I worry she’s going to rebel, but so far, we’ve managed to keep it under control.” Laura took another deep breath. “Listen. Now that I’ve scolded my daughter for prying, I’m going to do it. I have to tell you she’s not the only one that’s sad that it didn’t work out. Out of everyone that Matt’s dated, I was so happy when I met you. You love our daughter, you’re easy to get along with, and you have a life of your own.” She cleared her throat. “Are you sure it’s over?”

“You must know better than anyone what it’s like to deal with Matt.” Now it was Laura’s turn to laugh. “He knows I told him I wanted to run my business myself, and he meddled. Even worse, he lied to me about it. I know it sounds ridiculous and unforgiving, but I’m still so mad at him I could spit.”

“He tried to run my life, too.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?”

“Amy, it’s up to you, but listen. He’s not a bad guy. He does it because he takes care of everyone he loves. I had a bad month at the salon about a year ago. Two of my stylists quit with no notice, my rent went up, I had to replace some equipment, and he was there with his checkbook. He wouldn’t talk to me for a week after I told him no. He took care of his mom for so many years . . . It’s the way he shows love.”

“I know that. I just—I’m just so mad still, and he would not discuss why what he did was wrong.”

“He still does this to me, too. He finally backed off, but it took him years to do it. Obviously I still love him, because we’re friends. At the same time, I wanted to kill him. I know it is hard to deal with someone who won’t listen to your concerns as well. It took us a long time to get there. He’s going to have to learn the same lesson with you.” There was silence on the phone for several seconds, and she finally said, “I know you love him, too.”

“Sometimes it’s not enough.”

“Think it over, Amy. I know you’re probably hearing from your sister and your friends. You heard it from Samantha today. He’s like a bear with a sticker in its paw. I know he loves you.” Amy could see Laura’s smile through the phone. “It’s hard on his ego to have the woman he wants walk away from him.”

Laura and Amy chatted a little more about how their respective businesses were doing. A customer came in, so Amy had to hang up. After she sold the guy a hand-tied arrangement of irises and calla lilies, Amy was still thinking about what Laura had to say. She’d been dealing with Matt for almost fifteen years. Amy was surprised, though, that she’d go to bat for him with another woman.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A
MY SPENT THE
next week ignoring Matt’s phone calls and immersing herself in work. She slept three or four hours a night before she was up and pacing again, so she’d started taking the bus to her shop. She knew she wasn’t safe to be behind the wheel. She didn’t feel like eating. Everything in her room smelled like Matt, no matter how many times she washed it. She was too numb to cry.

Mercifully, it was Sunday. Amy finally closed her eyes as the first light of dawn warmed the skies outside her bedroom window. She awoke to the sound of Emily’s voice.

“Hey, get out of bed. We’re going to Cannon Beach for a couple of days.” Emily was pulling Amy’s overnight bag out of her walk-in closet.

Amy sat up in bed and rubbed her hands over her face. “Who let you in?”

Emily jingled her key chain. “I still have a key.” She crossed the room to Amy’s dresser. She tossed items into the open suitcase. “Let’s see here. Underwear. Socks. A bra. Where are your toiletries?” She stared at Amy in shock. “What’s with the huge dark circles under your eyes? You look like you took up boxing.”

“It’s nothing.” Amy shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are. When was the last time you ate something?”

“I can’t go to the beach right now—”

“You need a break. I have some days off. Brandon’s doing something called ‘organized team activities,’ so we’re outta here.” Emily opened the closet door again. “How do you even find your clothes? You don’t hang anything up. How do you tell what’s dirty from what’s not?”

Emily and Amy had been having this same argument since elementary school. Amy was fairly sure they’d still be having it when they both lived in a retirement home.

“Dirty is in the laundry basket. Everything in the closet’s clean,” Amy pointed out with exaggerated patience. She rubbed her eyes again. It was just past seven
AM
, she’d finally managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours, and she’d kind of like to go back there for a while.

“Listen, Mrs. Clean, don’t you have something else to do?”

“Probably. Right now, though, you’re getting out of bed, and we’re going on a trip,” Emily said. She pulled stuff off the clean laundry pile and folded it into the suitcase. “If we leave now, we’ll get there by noon.”

Emily couldn’t cook, but she was a neatnik. There was no clutter in the McKenna residence. Amy strongly suspected there was no dust there, either. Brandon greeted Emily’s cleaning mania with amusement. She could not understand how he could mess up a room thirty seconds after she left it. Amy was sure they didn’t fight over it. After all, Brandon could employ methods of distraction the rest of their friends and family had no access to.

“Em, I know you’re pretty bent on this, but I really can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can.” She glanced up at Amy, and ticked reasons off on her fingers. “It’s Sunday. You’re closed till Tuesday morning. Your employees are opening the shop now; I talked to Estelle yesterday, and she says they can handle it for a day. We’ll be back on Wednesday. You need a break. I need to spend some time with you, so get your ass out of bed.”

Amy resisted the impulse to laugh. Her beautiful, poised, perfect older sister, the toast of opera companies all over the world, was trotting out the obscenities this morning. In other words, she was serious.

“You talked to
Estelle
? This is
my
business . . .”

The rest of Amy’s comments trailed off as Emily walked into the bathroom, flipped on the shower, and shouted over the spray, “Don’t make me drag you in here.”

An hour later, Amy was showered, dressed, and packed, and the sisters were speeding down 405 toward Oregon. The only way Emily had managed to get Amy into the car at all was by promising she could sleep until they got to the hotel. Even more, Amy knew this was Emily’s way of provoking the Showdown at Matt Corral. Emily wanted to know what happened. Amy wasn’t sure she wanted to share that information quite yet.

Sleeping was a convenient way to avoid it.

Amy awoke as Emily’s phone rang, but kept her eyes shut while Emily chatted with Brandon. If she was any more of a chicken, she’d have enough eggs for an omelet.

The next time Amy woke, her sister stood inside of the open passenger door, shaking Amy’s shoulder and telling her, “Hey, wake up. We’re here.”

A
MY AND
E
MILY
walked Cannon Beach together, watching kids and a few dogs running and playing. Amy took deep breaths of the salt-tinged air. The ocean breeze blew their hair around. She scrunched her toes in the sun-warmed sand. The sky was a brilliant forget-me-not blue, and the puffins celebrated the good weather on Haystack Rock.

Emily glanced over at Amy. “You need to call Matt.”

“I’m not calling him,” Amy said. “We broke up. It’s over.”

“And this is the same woman who rode me until I called Brandon.”

“That was different. Brandon’s wonderful. Matt is a lower life form.”

Emily stopped, and grabbed her sister’s arm. “You’re in love with him.” Her voice was flat. “There’s never going to be anyone else for either of you but each other. Why are you being so stubborn?”

“He lied to me. He meddled in my business. He—”

“He wanted to help you. You threw it back in his face. Honest to God, Amy, where do you
get
this? He wants you to succeed, just like Brandon and I do. And by the way, Brandon said to tell you you’re more stubborn than I am.”

“Matt needs to understand that he is not the boss of me!” Amy finally burst out. Emily started to laugh, which made her even madder. “I’m not talking to you.”

Amy tried to stomp away. Sand didn’t really lend itself to stomping. Emily caught up with her.

“You have to talk to me. We’re staying in the same room,” she pointed out.

“I’ll get another room. Just leave me alone.”

Again, Emily grabbed her arm and swung Amy around to face her.

“I’ll never leave you alone,” Emily said.