The Sunday Potluck Club

by Melissa Storm

  She just couldn’t understand it. What had happened? Why were they back to square one all of a sudden?

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she whispered to Olivia during recess. “Can you forgive me?”

  Olivia made a sour face and walked away to stand by herself near the abandoned jungle gym. So much for that.

  Of course, Amy still didn’t understand how her failing to pick them up at the airport had led to such a drastic turn in Olivia, but at least she understood Trent’s anger now.

  Her letter wouldn’t be enough. Not anymore.

  She balled it up and threw it into the trash. After much debating, Amy scribbled a new letter to Trent. Just two words: I’m sorry.

  She didn’t seal it inside an envelope, because Olivia needed to see it, too. It wouldn’t be enough—she knew that—but at least it was a start.

  What surprise had they planned for her yesterday? She couldn’t think of anything that would elicit such a huge response, but clearly whatever it was had been important to them.

  Amy had missed out on their surprise, but now the ball was in her court. She needed to come up with a surprise of her own, a big way of saying she was sorry, proving how important they were to her.

  She wracked her mind for possibilities all afternoon, but her tired brain continued to come up short. A halfhearted attempt just wouldn’t cut it. Whatever she did had to be big and grand and perfect.

  Only then might Trent give her another chance.

  And if he did, she swore she’d never let them down again.

  Chapter 44

  After an exhausting and heartbreaking day at school, Amy craved a quiet night at home. First, she needed to pack up Belle and her things and run them over to Nichole’s for safekeeping. She hated that she had to relocate her companion of more than seventeen years just to protect her from their unexpected roommates. But with any luck, Bridget would find a place soon, she could bring Belle back, and they could all get back to normal life.

  “I promise to take great care of her,” Nichole said when Amy and Belle arrived a short while later. Normally, Nichole worked until five, but today she’d been able to cash in on some flex time to take the afternoon off. Thank goodness for good friends.

  “Hey, come in for a bit,” Nichole urged, when Amy turned to leave.

  “Okay, but I can’t stay long. I’m exhausted.”

  “I bet.” Nichole studied her for a moment, then motioned for Amy to follow. “I’ve got something to show you. This way.”

  As always, Nichole’s condo was perfectly tidy. While Hazel’s place looked every part the perfect showroom, Nichole’s was full of life. She had many books and souvenirs from her travels and kept her collections meticulously organized, but not out of sight. That made sense, Amy thought, because this way Nichole could enjoy them without making a mess.

  Amy’s own house fell somewhere between the two. She was mostly tidy, but nowhere near the level of her friends. Although, at the moment, her house resembled a storage unit more than an actual home.

  “You okay?” Nichole asked.

  Amy nodded. “Now show me what we’re looking at.”

  Nichole stepped aside and pointed toward the far corner of the kitchen, where she’d set up one of those fancy kitty drinking fountains. It gurgled gently, creating a soothing stream of white noise.

  But it had the opposite effect on Amy. “You did not buy that! It’s too expensive,” she argued, shaking her head at her friend.

  Nichole just shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I did a bunch of research in preparation for Belle’s stay this afternoon. And, well, this fountain came recommended over a standard water dish. It’s more hygienic and more fun.”

  She smiled, but Amy did not.

  “Just consider it a gift from me to her. All right?” Nichole requested, studying her friend once more. “You can take it home with you when she goes back with you.”

  “Thank you so much for helping. This is just . . .” Amy trailed off and let out a giant sigh. She shouldn’t complain. It wasn’t Bridget’s fault that Amy had spoiled things with Trent, not really.

  “That bad with Bridget already?” Nichole asked with a knowing expression. Had Bridget asked to move in here first, or had she gone straight to Amy after her father said no?

  “Not Bridget so much as her three crazy dogs,” Amy conceded, stuck somewhere between badmouthing one friend and lying to the other. “I know she hasn’t had them long, but I worry they’re teaching Darwin bad behavior that I won’t be able to unteach him once they’re gone, if they’re ever gone.”

  Nichole pressed her lips in a thin line, then asked, “Have you talked to Bridget about this?”

  “Heck, no!” Amy cried. Of course, Nichole would try to give advice. She couldn’t ever just let anything go. Amy realized that harping on her problems wasn’t going to solve anything. She just needed to learn to deal with them better, to get used to the new status quo.

  Nichole tilted her head but didn’t say anything.

  So, of course, Amy rushed to explain the issue. “The last thing I want to do is kick her while she’s down. Things have been so touch and go the last few months for her, but . . .” She sighed again, feeling her resolve reach its breaking point.

  Amy turned toward her friend with pleading eyes. “Why is it always me?” she demanded. “Why couldn’t she have gone to you or Hazel instead? Why am I always the one?”

  “Really? You don’t know why?” Nichole actually had the audacity to laugh right in her face. “Oh, Amy. It’s because you let her. You teach other people how you want to be treated, and you’ve decided that you’re long-suffering, peacekeeper Amy, so, of course, that’s how others treat you, too.”

  Amy snorted. “Not true.”

  Nichole raise one skeptical eyebrow.

  “Okay, fine!” Amy admitted. “It’s a little true.”

  Nichole laughed again and shook her head. “You know what one of my favorite moments with you has been?” She waited, but Amy didn’t even attempt to venture a guess.

  “It was when you shouted at me after Bridget’s mother’s funeral,” Nichole revealed with wide eyes. “Remember that?”

  “I was awful. How could you say that?” Amy sank down into one of the kitchen chairs, too exhausted to stand anymore. She’d just wanted help with her cat, but apparently Nichole wouldn’t let her escape without at least a little bit of psychotherapy.

  Nichole pulled out the chair across from Amy, but instead of sitting she hunched over it with both hands, gripping the ladder back as she leaned in toward Amy. “Because you were actually saying what you needed for a change,” she shouted as if this all should have been very obvious already.

  “Say what you need, no apologizing,” Amy cited from rote, smiling as her mind drifted back to Trent.

  “Well, that sounds good. It’s not what you do, though,” Nichole pointed out, finally taking a seat. Her legs trembled so hard with energy that the entire table shook.

  “It’s Trent’s family’s rule,” Amy whispered as her smile became a bitter frown. “He says that all the time.”

  “Have you ever taken the advice?” Nichole reached forward and took both of Amy’s hands.

  Amy shrugged and tried to pull away.

  “No, really, Ames. You know I love Bridget, but if she’s putting you out as much as it seems she is, you need to say something.”

  “Like what? Get out of my house?” Amy scoffed at the inappropriateness of this suggestion.

  Nichole, on the other hand, tilted her head and nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Amy gasped. “I can’t do that!”

  “Then enjoy your new roommate, because I can guarantee she isn’t going anywhere until you make her.” She rose to her feet again and stared at Amy from her higher position. “I have some good books on living with difficult roommates if you want to borrow some,” she added with a sly smile.

  Amy groaned. “This isn’t fair!”

  “What’s with you and fa
ir all the time?” Nichole asked, thrusting a hand to her hip. “Is it because you spend all day with second graders?”

  Amy glowered at her. “Not funny.”

  “I’m not saying it to be funny. Why would you ever expect life to be fair? Especially when you’re not even willing to fight for your own interests. Take it from me, Ames. You better get used to being disappointed.”

  “Well, thanks for watching Belle,” Amy responded, unwilling to be psychoanalyzed by her friend for even a moment longer. Yeah, if Nichole was such an expert on life, why was she always so cynical about everything?

  “If you think about it,” Nichole shouted after her as Amy stormed away, “you’ll know that I’m right. Good luck with Bridget.”

  Amy wanted to slam the door behind her to end their conversation with a punctuation mark; instead, she latched it gently as she walked from one uncomfortable situation to the next. No matter what Nichole said, Amy knew she was a good friend. She helped others when they needed it, instead of picking at them the way Nichole did. Amy’s help never came with conditions. That was why everyone turned to her in a crisis.

  Regardless of what she did for a living, Nichole had no idea what she was talking about when it came to Amy.

  Chapter 45

  Amy took a couple extra loops through the neighborhood before heading home. When she returned, though, she sorely wished she could have stayed out longer. It looked as if her kitchen had just catered a fancy, four-course meal for at least a dozen guests, and that nothing had been cleaned up along the way. Yes, it seemed every dish Amy owned had been put into use. Now all were dirty and cluttering up her counters.

  Bridget stood in the middle of it all, holding a mixing bowl filled to the brim with an unappetizing brown paste. “Welcome home, you,” she cried with an oblivious smile.

  Amy reached out to grab the doorframe. She wasn’t trying to put on some kind of dramatic display; she really did need the extra support to keep from falling. Too tired, too irritated, too much.

  The dogs pranced around Bridget’s feet, their hair shedding and rising up into the air, where it could freely mix with whatever Bridget was attempting to bake.

  Amy rubbed at one of her temples, using her free hand as she thought about how best to handle this latest disaster. “Darwin, out!” she commanded after a moment’s pause, pointing her finger toward the other room.

  The chubby beagle tucked his tail between his legs as he slunk away, but at least he listened. Dogs were easy. People? Now there lay a challenge. Darwin plopped his rear on the carpet just on the other side of the entryway and whined as he watched the others in the kitchen.

  Teddy scampered after and sat down beside him, panting merrily.

  “Good boys,” Amy said, although she couldn’t quite bring herself to smile. Not yet. “Now, stay.” Ignoring Bridget, she crossed through the kitchen and opened the pantry to retrieve Darwin’s treats. She grabbed the bright yellow bag, opened it up, and found that it was completely empty.

  “Sorry about that,” Bridget said, turning her back to Amy as she searched through the upper cabinets with one hand and continued to stir her batter with the other.

  “I gave them the last of the treats while you were at work, so I thought I would help by making some more.” She held up her mixing bowl demonstratively. “See?”

  Amy squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She needed a moment to gather her wits before forcing a smile and helping Bridget clean up this colossal mess. She could train Rosco and Baby while she was at it, too. She could fix everything for everyone....

  Well, except for herself.

  “Ames?” Bridget asked, striding toward her and spilling some of her batter onto the floor in the process. “Oops,” she said with a laugh. “Sorry about that.”

  Amy clenched her eyes shut again. The entire kitchen spun in a dizzying blur of noises, smells, then sights when she opened her eyes again.

  It was too much. Way too much.

  Nichole was absolutely right. Amy was always last on her own list. So, why did she expect anyone else to treat her differently? She needed to do something, and she needed to do it now.

  “Bridget,” she said slowly, taking several more calming breaths, although none of them seemed to help.

  “Hmm?” her friend asked, pouring her batter into Amy’s cupcake tray without bothering to lay in cups first.

  Irritation spread like a poison through Amy’s system. She didn’t have the antidote, which meant she had to somehow get it out. She had to fight for what she needed before staying quiet destroyed her.

  “Stop!” she cried, then broke into a giant, heaving sob. “Please, just stop.”

  Bridget dropped the bowl onto the counter with a thud and raced to her friend’s side. “What’s wrong?”

  “This,” Amy said, her tears came hot and fast now, but she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t even want to. Enough was enough . . . was too much.

  “Everything,” she choked out around another sob.

  “I’m sorry,” Bridget said, giving her a hug now. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was only trying to help. I should have asked first.”

  “No, it wouldn’t have made a difference. I would have said yes, anyway.” Amy realized this was true the moment she said it. Her friends did ask her what she needed, but she rarely bothered to tell them. How was that better than any other type of lie?

  Bridget cocked her head to the side. “I don’t understand,” she said as Amy continued to cry freely.

  “I’m going through a lot right now,” Amy tried to explain. “It’s too much to have you and Rosco and Baby and Teddy living here, too.”

  “Do you need us to go?” Bridget asked gently, not screaming and shouting as Amy had feared.

  Amy shook her head, sniffed, looked away. She didn’t want to hurt her friend, but she also couldn’t keep hurting herself like this. Now was the time to speak her truth, to ask for what she needed with absolutely no apologizing.

  “Yes,” she said at last and with great difficulty. The moment she said it, she felt so much better that she said it again. “Yes, I do.”

  Bridget placed a hand on each of Amy’s shoulders and waited for her to look up. “Ames, it’s okay, really. We’ll move out tomorrow.”

  Could it really be this easy? Had Amy internalized all her discomfort, all her pain, when she simply could have asked her friend to find another arrangement? This realization hurt, too. It wasn’t just Bridget. Amy had been making the same mistakes her entire life, but especially since her mother had gotten sick. And she hadn’t even realized what she was sacrificing by trying to keep the peace for everyone else, how much of herself she’d surrendered in the process.

  She could have taken it all back, could have invited Bridget to stay, but she needed this change to happen. Just like the poster in the teacher’s lounge, just like the saying in Nichole’s book. If Amy wanted a change in her life, then she needed to make it happen.

  Nobody else. Her.

  “Where will you go?” she asked, eyeing her friend carefully.

  Bridget smiled. She didn’t seem upset at all. “I’ll go to my dad’s and ask the shelter if they’d be willing to board the dogs while I search for a new place.” She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, I swear. It’s probably what I should have done in the first place.”

  Amy nodded. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry I put you out. You could have just told me.”

  “I know that now,” Amy said, finally finding her smile.

  Bridget squeezed her friend’s shoulder, then moved back toward the oven. “Believe me, I know I’m not the easiest to live with and adding the dogs on top of it was probably a nightmare for you. I should’ve thought about that before even asking.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Amy said, and meant it. “You were really upset, and I should have been able to say no, the way Hazel and Nichole do.”

  “You were just trying to help.”

  “I was, but I was also bei
ng dishonest with you.”

  Bridget picked up the mixing bowl and moved closer to the muffin tray.

  “Oh, B?” Amy interrupted. “Could you please use the paper cups? Otherwise, that’s going to be impossible to clean. Actually, let me help you finish up in here.”

  The two friends finished baking together, then made quick work of tidying the kitchen. It felt good now that there was an end in sight. Amy had heard Trent talking about what he needed without apologizing dozens of times, but this was the first time she’d ever tried it for herself—and it felt great.

  Even better than that? She now knew what she had to do to make things right. Tomorrow.

  Chapter 46

  The next morning, Amy called in sick. She hardly ever requested a sick day, even when she was so congested she could barely breathe. And even though she wasn’t technically ill that day, she was most definitely heartsick. Only Trent could help her feel better now. Luckily, she knew just where she could find him.

  And so she began her first trip to the new correctional center in Wasilla. Trent would be at work, she knew, and hopefully he would at least agree to hear her out.

  Funny, Amy had never suspected the greatest romantic gesture of her life would take place at a prison, or that she’d be the one making it. But that was life, constantly serving up surprises. She also wouldn’t have expected to meet her special someone via a rear-end collision, and she definitely wouldn’t have chosen a partner who carried just as much baggage as she found herself burdened with now, too.

  Looking back, of course, it all made perfect sense. She’d fallen for Trent hard and fast, but that didn’t mean doing so had been wrong. Of the many mistakes she’d made that year, Trent might have been the one thing she’d gotten right.

  As she drove to see him now, she drank more than her fair share of coffee and walked through the plan in her head. She was ready for this. At last, close to an hour after she’d left, she arrived at a squat building made of white cinderblock and blue-green glass.