The Sunday Potluck Club

by Melissa Storm

  She was just putting the finishing touches on her hair when a rapid-fire knock sounded at her front door. Had Trent arrived early and taken a cab? That didn’t seem like him.

  But it wasn’t Trent she found, leaning up against her doorstep with giant, desperate tears in her eyes and three anxious dogs in tow.

  “Bridget,” she cooed, ushering her friend inside. “What happened?”

  “I got evicted!” Bridget cried as she let each of the dogs off their leashes.

  They tore into Amy’s house like a furry tornado, and Darwin immediately came running over to play. Amy hoped that Belle had already found a good hiding place, and that Darwin would keep Bridget’s pack occupied long enough to distract them from the scent of cat on the premises. As long as Belle was safe, she needed to focus on her friend rather than the havoc that might befall her house at any moment.

  Amy opened her arms and Bridget fell into them, sobbing. “My landlord found out about the dogs. She said I could stay, but Rosco, Baby, and Teddy had to go.”

  Amy had expected this, but it wouldn’t do any good to remind her friend of her early warning, especially when she was already so distressed. “So, what did you do when she said that?” she asked instead.

  Bridget jolted back and stared at Amy in horror. “I told her where she could shove it. My dogs are family and they aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Oh, B,” Amy ground out as her friend grabbed on to her again and cried even harder.

  “Can we stay here?” Bridget mumbled into Amy’s once neatly coiffed hair. She was sure it looked a mess now, but hair wasn’t as important as friends. Nothing was.

  Bridget sniffed when her friend didn’t answer right away. “I mean, just until we find a new building. Somewhere that allows dogs.”

  Amy tried to hide how much she hated this idea. It wouldn’t be fair to poor Belle, who’d already had to adjust to one dog in her life. Three more was just too much. Surely, Bridget had other options. “What about your dad?” she asked.

  Bridget shook her head. “He said the same thing my old landlord did, that I was welcome, but the dogs weren’t. Oh, Amy, what am I going to do?”

  “You’ll stay here, of course.” Amy said it without even giving the idea a second thought. So what if she had hesitations? Her friend needed her; she couldn’t just turn her away. She knew Hazel was probably out, but maybe Nichole would be willing to take Belle in until Bridget found a more permanent arrangement.

  “Really?” Bridget asked, swiping at her tears and risking a smile.

  “Yes, really. Stay as long as you need,” Amy insisted, hoping she wouldn’t later come to regret it.

  Bridget tightened her squeeze one more time before finally letting Amy go and taking a step back to assess the house. “Thank you so, so much. You’re a real lifesaver. Would you mind watching the dogs for a bit? My landlord said I have to get everything out by midnight.”

  “Sure,” Amy responded with a nod. It was just a few hours. She could spare a few hours for a friend, right?

  The entire contents of Bridget’s old apartment would, no doubt, be finding their way to her garage, which meant she’d need to park on the street and wake up early each morning to warm up her car before heading into work. But that was okay, too. Soon, breakup season would be upon them, and after that, summer. When school let out, she could sleep late to her heart’s content. That was less than three months away. Bridget would probably be gone by then, but even if she wasn’t . . .

  “Thank you again!” Bridget cried, already halfway out the door.

  Amy waited until her friend disappeared from the driveway, waving politely as she backed away; then she pushed the door closed behind her, clenched her eyes shut tight, and took a deep, deep breath.

  Amy worried about what this new arrangement would do for her friendship with Bridget. Even without the canine crew, Bridget would never be someone she’d choose as a roommate. They had different habits when it came to almost everything—especially cleanliness and noise.

  No, this would not be good.

  As if on cue, Rosco grabbed Darwin’s stuffed crocodile toy at one end while Baby grabbed the other. In a matter of seconds, stuffing flew everywhere, and Darwin’s favorite toy had been ripped beyond repair. Teddy gobbled up the stuffing as if it were prime rib, then began to wheeze, hack, and vomit all over Amy’s best rug.

  Amy didn’t have time to wring her hands or bemoan her situation. After making sure Belle was shut safely in her bedroom, she spent all her time racing from one disaster to another. Sadly, she wouldn’t even have time to call Nichole about cat-sitting until Bridget returned and reined in her extremely hyper, mischief-making dogs. Were they like this for Bridget, or just acting out because of the special situation?

  It wasn’t until close to four hours later that Bridget returned with her first carful of belongings, and by then Amy had burst into frustrated tears several times over.

  “I’m back, roomie!” Bridget cried, passing through the front door and then accidentally snagging the edge of whatever bric-a-brac she was carrying against the wall. Bridget didn’t even notice, but Amy immediately saw that it would leave a mark. She’d need to whip out her magic eraser sponge—or worse, repaint that entire section.

  The dogs cavorted over to Bridget and ran enthusiastic circles around her as she walked, barking the whole time. Darwin barked whenever Amy returned home from work, but this was ridiculous. They kept barking each time she passed in and out of the house. Every single time.

  Amy checked the clock on her phone. Was it almost midnight yet? No, only three in the afternoon. They’d still have nine or more hours of this chaos, provided the dogs calmed down once Bridget had settled in herself. And that was a big if.

  It looked like she’d also missed several calls and texts from Trent while chasing the dogs around. What could he need?

  And then she remembered. Dread flooded her gut, and she suddenly remembered why she’d put on her nice, new dress and done up her hair. She’d agreed to pick Trent and Olivia up from the airport nearly an hour and a half ago. They had that big surprise for her that all three of them were so excited about. This meant a lot to them, and she’d completely forgotten.

  Well, not exactly forgotten; her mind had suddenly been burdened with too many other things to make space. Still, she’d completely missed being there when they needed her.

  And now it was too late.

  Chapter 42

  While Bridget continued to unload her car, Amy snuck away to try calling Trent. She had to call three times before she finally got through. With each ring, she felt the distance between them growing and growing until it seemed no bridge would ever be enough to bring them together again.

  Surely, that was all in her head, right? Once she explained, he’d understand. They’d go back to the easy way things had been between them ever since one little girl’s scheme had convinced Amy to give things another try.

  When finally Trent picked up, she felt the tension uncoil from all the places she’d been holding it in her body. He was here now. They would be okay.

  “I’m so sorry!” Amy cried before he even had a chance to say hello. “There was an emergency here, and—”

  “And you couldn’t even take two seconds to text?” Trent’s voice held a new hostility that she’d never heard in it before. It startled her so much that she sank down onto her bed and shook her head, dumbfounded. No, this couldn’t be happening. He had to understand. She needed to explain it to him, and then . . .

  “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “Bridget came by with her dogs, and—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Trent growled, cutting her off before she could say anything more. “It’s one thing to disappoint me, fine. But Liv was really excited about the surprise, and now she’s just torn apart. Amy, that’s not okay. You have to be more reliable when kids are involved.”

  Amy just kept shaking her head. “Of course, of course. It won’t happen again; I promise it won’t.�
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  “You also promised you’d be there,” Trent pointed out, his rage turning to a coldness that almost felt worse. He took a heavy breath. “Here, all this time I was worried I was the one who wasn’t ready but turns out it was you.”

  She gathered her comforter in her hands and balled them into fists. “That’s not fair. I would’ve been there had Bridget not—”

  Trent interrupted her again. “So it’s my fault. It’s Bridget’s fault. Why is it never your fault, Amy?”

  “That’s not true at all,” she shouted. Why wouldn’t he just let her explain? Couldn’t he hear how sorry she was? Didn’t he know? “I constantly feel guilty about things.”

  “Well, you don’t need to feel guilty about us anymore,” Trent spat before disconnecting the call.

  Amy lowered the phone and just stared at it for what felt like hours.

  What the heck had just happened?

  Trent had never spoken a harsh word to her before, and now he refused to even listen to her reasoning—or her apology. He was wrong about her, too. So wrong. Amy always blamed herself for everything. How could he not see that?

  So what if she’d missed picking him and Olivia up at the airport? It was unfortunate and she felt bad, but it also wasn’t like he couldn’t afford a taxi. Bridget had needed her. Was she just supposed to turn her friend away in her hour of need?

  The surprise, she realized suddenly. She hoped they hadn’t gone to too much trouble, that it wouldn’t be ruined now.

  All week, she’d been eagerly anticipating their return, and now that Trent was back, he didn’t even want to talk to her—let alone see her. Did that mean they were over?

  No, Amy refused to believe that.

  She had to make this up to him and Olivia and fast. But how?

  All night, she thought about what she could possibly do, what she could say. Perhaps fortunately, the dogs continued to act out, which kept her mind and hands busy until well past one in the morning.

  “All done,” Bridget announced at some time past one o’clock. “Thanks, Ames. You’re a real lifesaver. Oh my gosh, I’m so tired. I think I’ll just crash out on the couch and finish setting up my room tomorrow.”

  Of course, this meant that Bridget’s dogs would have free rein of the house while she and Amy slept, but Amy just had to let it go. Tomorrow would be better. At least Bridget would be home to monitor her dogs. At least things with Trent couldn’t get worse. That meant they had to get better. Right?

  Praying this was true, Amy locked herself in her bedroom with Darwin and Belle. She was exhausted but couldn’t sleep yet—not until she wrote Trent the letter that would explain everything.

  Why couldn’t relationships be easy? Not just the romantic one she’d started with Trent, but her friendships, too. It seemed someone was always hurting, angry, disappointed, and that Amy always had to be the one who scurried to pick up the pieces. Shouldn’t relationships get easier with time? Shouldn’t Trent know that what had happened was an accident without Amy needing to explain it? Shouldn’t Bridget know how much her request was costing Amy?

  These things all seemed obvious to her, but they didn’t represent how life really worked. No. Of everyone in her life, it seemed Belle understood Amy best—and now her cat would have to be sent away for her own safety. It just wasn’t fair. How could one little day make such a big mess of everything in Amy’s life?

  She grabbed a pen from her nightstand drawer and held it tightly between her fingers. This was it, what could be her one chance to make things up to Trent—and she needed to get it perfect.

  Despite all the stops and starts, she’d had hours to think about what she wanted to say and now the words flowed out of her. A well-timed letter had brought them together for their second meeting at school, the one when they officially became something to each other. Would an equally heartfelt and honest letter work this time around as well?

  It had to. She had no other ideas and was desperate for Trent to forgive her. Turning to a fresh page in her spiralbound notebook, Amy began to write:

  Trent,

  I’m so sorry about not being there for you and Olivia today. I looked forward to it all week and can’t believe I didn’t make it to you on time. My friend Bridget came to my house right before I was about to leave, and she had a crisis that she needed my help with. I dropped everything to help her, including the ball when it came to my commitment to you.

  I know this doesn’t excuse what happened, but hopefully it will help you understand a bit better. I missed you and Olivia like crazy all week and was so excited to see you again. If it makes you feel any better, Bridget’s three dogs have completely destroyed my house, and now I am out of my mind worrying that you might never forgive me.

  Please, please forgive me. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Anything to make us okay again.

  She hesitated for a moment over how to sign her name. Love felt too strong, while anything else appeared too businesslike. Ultimately, she decided that simply writing her name would have to be enough. She still didn’t know if this letter said all that needed to be said, but she knew Trent would be turned off if she spent too long rationalizing her failure—no matter how good the excuse. She didn’t have anything left to give, not tonight, not after the physically and emotionally draining day she’d just endured.

  Because she had nothing left to offer, Amy set her notebook on the nightstand, turned off her lamp, and tried to get some sleep.

  She’d done all she could for now. Hopefully it would be enough. Hopefully tomorrow would be better. Even as she thought these things, though, she just couldn’t bring herself to believe them.

  Amy had ruined everything. It was all her fault.

  Chapter 43

  The next morning Amy had to wake Bridget much earlier than either of them wanted to start the day. She’d tried to get ready for work quietly in the dark, but kept tripping over dogs everywhere she turned, leaving her no choice. She didn’t exactly have the type of job where one could be tardy.

  “Five more minutes,” Bridget groaned as Amy stood over her. “Everything hurts.”

  Amy wasn’t entirely sure she had five minutes to spare, but guessed she owed Bridget that much after the emotional turmoil they’d both been through the previous day. While she waited for the time to pass, she took the dogs outside for a quick bathroom break, then came back to try rousing Bridget again.

  “Ugh, fine,” her friend whined as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Even with Bridget “supervising” the dogs, Amy still had to sidestep them left and right to avoid having her outfit completely covered in slobber and drool. How were they not exhausted, too, after yesterday?

  Amy skipped applying makeup and settled on a messy ponytail for her hair, then fled from the house as fast as two feet and four tires could carry her. Had traffic not been light that Monday morning, she’d have arrived late for the start of school. As it was, she slipped in only seconds before the final bell sounded.

  She’d hoped that today would be better, but so far it was just as bad as yesterday. Hopefully, the letter she’d penned to Trent in the early hours of the morning would at least bring better things for tonight.

  Despite downing a cold can of double-shot espresso on her drive over, Amy couldn’t stop yawning for the first part of the day. Not only was she exhausted from all the drama with Bridget and her dogs, but she’d also found it near impossible to sleep while her mind was so busy trying to find a way to fix things with Trent.

  Time to focus. Her students depended on her. It wasn’t their fault Amy had made a terrible mess of her personal life. They still needed her to teach spelling, subtraction, and social studies.

  The classroom buzzed with excitement as everyone reunited with friends and shared the details of their break. Amy herself didn’t have anything positive to share, but she’d become an expert at adjusting stories to make them more appropriate for eight-year-old ears.

  Olivia was notably absent. Amy prayed that Trent w
as simply late getting her to school. Maybe he’d been up tossing and turning last night, missing Amy the way she missed him. Whatever the case, she needed to be Ms. Shannon now. Amy would have to wait until she clocked out for the day.

  “I can see everyone’s really eager to talk about what they did on break,” she said, standing at the front of the room with hands clasped and a giant, welcoming smile on her face. “Let’s go around the room and share before starting our lessons for the day.”

  About halfway through this exercise, Olivia slipped into the classroom carrying a green note from the office. Amy’s heart flooded with relief. There was one worry put to rest.

  “Welcome, Olivia. Did you have a good break?” she asked brightly.

  But the little girl just shook her head and continued to her desk without so much as a word to Amy or anyone else.

  Reluctantly, Amy continued around the room, smiling and nodding as each of her students talked about the adventures they’d had on their spring break. She loved seeing them this happy, but her mind spun with worry for Olivia.

  When everyone else had spoken, she turned back to Liv. “Would you like to share what you did on break?”

  Olivia crossed her arms and stared at the top of her desk, not uttering a word.

  Amy couldn’t give up on her. Not yet. She was probably just tired and needed a bit of help to wake up. “Was Jet happy to have you home?” she asked, widening her smile.

  Nothing.

  “Okay, well, you can share later, if you’d like,” she said softly, then raised her voice and looked out over the classroom as a whole. “Okay, guys. Let’s start today with math.”

  Olivia did whatever work Amy assigned, but steadfastly refused to speak to her. She kept to herself, remaining uncommunicative even with her friends in the class. No wonder Trent was so angry with Amy yesterday.