Amy had no idea. Millie didn’t brag.
“See, your first big story is going to be a smash hit. You already know the champ,” Jeb said. He picked up the tab. Amy knew better than to argue.
Molly yelled her goodbye over the crowd’s noise.
Once outside, Jeb said, “Come by tomorrow and we’ll get the paperwork done and set you up with a desk. Bring your bobbleheads.”
“Huh?”
“That’s a euphemism for your stuff,” Jeb said. He held out his bear paw of a hand.
Amy shook it. “What time do you want me in?”
“Whenever you get there. I know you visit your mother in the mornings so anytime after that.” He smiled down at her. “You’re doing right by your mama. That says a lot.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re doing more than that,” he said.
Amy smiled to herself as she watched Jeb saunter down the street, whistling to himself. She hoped to someday be that happy.
Chapter Fourteen
Parker was outside talking on her cell phone when Amy pulled into Millie’s driveway. After meeting with Jeb, she had swung by the market and picked up a few staples—bagels, milk, cream cheese, and orange juice. Millie wouldn’t let her buy groceries, so Amy snuck in some basics whenever they seemed low. Millie pretended not to notice.
As Amy unloaded the bags from the car’s trunk, Parker clicked off her phone and came over to take one of the bags. “Well, how’d it go? Did you get the job?”
Amy could tell Parker was trying to keep her enthusiasm in check and doing a poor job of it. “Yes, I did. According to Jeb, I already had it before I walked in the door. Millie has a lot of pull around town.”
Parker seemed to relax at the good news. “Evidently,” she said, smiling.
Amy let them into the house that Millie only locked at night because, as she put it, there were gangs of “drug lords” that roamed the town.
Parker helped her unpack the groceries, putting the milk and orange juice in the fridge. She said, “Jose’s wife had her twins. He said they just about jumped out. His wife was happy about that. He wanted to come in this afternoon, but I told him he better stay with his wife or else. Besides, I’m done with the carpentry stuff for today because I wanted to help with your childhood bedroom.” She looked over her shoulder at Amy, saying, “That is, if you’re still up for it.”
“I really want to get it over with,” Amy said. She dreaded the task, but knew she was going to have to do it sometime. It might as well be now. And the thought of spending an afternoon with Parker was definitely a bonus.
“Then let’s get on it,” Parker said.
Amy grabbed a couple of ice-cold Diet Cokes and they headed back to her mother’s house. Standing at the threshold of her old bedroom she let out a heavy sigh. “This is big.”
Parker placed a caring hand on her back. “I know. But if you look at it from an anthropological viewpoint, it’ll be easier.”
“Anthropological?” Parker’s hand felt hot on her back. Amy tried not to blush at the touch.
“Just pretend we’re digging up an ancient civilization and studying how they lived.” Parker reached over and picked up an item from the dresser. “Like this stone. How did this get there and what exactly was it used for?”
“Hey! That’s my pet rock,” Amy said with a laugh.
“See?” Parker said. “That didn’t hurt, did it?” She took Amy’s hand in her own and pulled her into the room. She gently pushed her down onto the bed, saying, “You can watch if you want. I’ll go through the stuff.”
“I’m too embarrassed to let you see all my gayngsty things,” Amy said.
“Gayngsty?” Parker asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know, gay angst. Gayngsty.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Sure,” Amy said. She rose to her feet and surveyed her room. Suddenly smiling, she ran to her closet, threw open the door, rummaged in the back and when she turned around she was holding a glossy magazine photo in front of her.
“The Facts of Life?” Parker asked. “They caused you gayngst?”
Amy nodded her head eagerly and patted her heart. “I was so in love with Jo.”
“She was okay,” Parker said, shrugging.
“Okay? Just okay?” Amy asked, unbelievingly.
“Not my type,” Parker said.
“Oh? Exactly what is your type?” Amy teased.
“I was in love with Mallory from Family Ties.”
They both laughed.
Parker spied Amy’s record player and the crate of records sitting next to it. “Can I go through your records?” she asked excitedly.
“I was kind of juvenile in my tastes,” Amy said, pointing to her poster collection, which sat rolled up in the corner. “I used to rotate my wall art and I never threw any of the posters out.” She unrolled a poster of the band Toto. “These guys had to be gay, right?”
“It’s hard to tell about that period. It’s the beginning of glam rock. David Bowie started it with Ziggy Stardust. Guys started dressing kind of feminine and wearing makeup. Duran Duran had it down,” Parker said.
“You’re a walking musical encyclopedia, aren’t you?”
“I’m just really into music and the 80s are a particular favorite. Once you get nostalgic, the history comes with it, at least for me.”
“So now I know two things you like to do,” Amy said.
“Oh?”
“Frisbee golf and listen to vinyl.”
“Yes, but I do have other interests, you know,” Parker said, staring right at her.
“I bet you do,” Amy said, not meeting her eyes, and pretending to be overly interested in her poster collection.
Parker came over to check out the posters. “You can’t throw these away. They’re an important part of history.” She unrolled a poster of Depeche Mode. “Wow, you were more enlightened about music than you’re letting on.” She unrolled more. “Huey Lewis and the News, Simple Minds, The Pretenders.”
Amy unrolled Air Supply. “What about this one?”
“Okay, well, that may have been a slip in judgment, but they still have their place. I think everyone, I amend that, every girl had a secret soft spot for “All Out of Love.”
“It was my favorite,” Amy said.
Parker chuckled. “There’s no shame in it.”
“Did you like them?” Amy asked squinting one eye.
“Well, maybe in my more maudlin teen moments. Like when I’d lost a girlfriend.”
“You were gay in high school?” Amy asked incredulously.
“I was gay in kindergarten. My very first was love was Jennifer Severson. She was adorable. She moved to Los Angeles when she was nine. She had an Easy Bake Oven and used to make me brownies.”
“Did you kiss her?” Amy asked.
“No, but I did write her love letters in purple crayon because it was ‘our’ color.”
“No one gave you crap in those days?”
“It was normal for girls to have crushes. But Grandma caught me making out in my bedroom with Bonnie Mayfield. Things got a little dicey after that,” Parker said. “With Grandma,” she amended, “not Bonnie.”
Amy sat down on the end of the bed. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
“I’m not hiding anything. You can ask me whatever you want to know.”
“Okay,” Amy said and patted the bed beside her. Parker dutifully sat. “I’ll start with an easy one. What’s your last name?”
Parker looked away.
“What? Is it some big secret? Is it something embarrassing?”
“No,” Parker said. “My last name is Parker.”
Amy knitted her eyebrows. “So, what’s your first name then?”
Parker looked away again.
“You said I could ask you anything,” Amy said.
“You’ll laugh.”
“No, I won’t. Promise.” Amy crossed her heart.
“Meredith,
” Parker said softly.
“That’s a great name!”
“It doesn’t fit me,” Parker said.
“Well, Parker does seem more you,” Amy admitted.
“Just don’t ever call me that, okay? It’s a deal breaker.”
“I won’t,” Amy said. “Okay, next question…”
Parker looked at her. Amy’s eyes moved to Parker’s lips and lingered there. “Would you like to dance?”
“Dance? Here? Now?”
“Yes to all three questions.” Amy jumped up, sorted through a stack of albums, found the one she wanted, slipped it out of the jacket and put it on the turntable.
“Did I just see Michael Jackson on that cover?” Parker asked.
“You sure did. When I was young, I thought Michael Jackson wrote the soundtrack to my life.”
Amy guided the needle into place and lowered it onto the record. The opening strains of “You Are Not Alone” began. Amy turned to Parker and smiled shyly. She held out her hand. “May I have this dance?”
Parker stood and took Amy’s hand in her own. “I feel like I’m at a middle school dance.”
Amy pulled Parker in to her. She laid her head on Parker’s shoulder and they both swayed to the music. The heat was immediate. Everywhere her body pressed against Parker’s tingled. No, it was more than a mere tingle. It was an electric shock. A good electric shock.
There was a click and a sudden flash of light.
Amy and Parker jerked their heads toward the doorway. Steph stood grinning, her phone aimed at them.
Parker and Amy quickly pulled apart. “Did you just take a picture of us?” Parker asked.
Steph shrugged and put her phone back in her pocket. “Maybe.”
“Why?” Parker asked.
“To show Rosa. She’ll be really excited that you two are hooking up.”
“We weren’t hooking up,” Amy said. “We were dancing.” She knew her cheeks were red. Though whether from embarrassment or the heat of the full body contact, she didn’t know.
“We weren’t hooking up?” Parker asked in mock disappointment.
“Okay, maybe a little,” Amy said. She turned down the volume on the record player.
Steph picked up a pair of socks from the floor by the bed. “Oh my god! Are these what I think they are?”
“Yep. Original toe socks,” Amy said.
“I always wanted a pair of these!” Steph sat on the bed, took off her trainers and socks, and pulled on the striped toe socks. She stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her toes. “They feel weird. My toes don’t like it.”
“Yeah, but I was too cool to admit it and wore them anyway.”
“Hey, I have an idea,” Steph said.
“Famous last words,” Parker whispered under her breath.
***
Ten minutes later, all three were dressed up in Amy’s 80s wardrobe. Amy was dressed as Jennifer Beals from Flashdance, complete with torn sweatshirt. Parker had a Bananarama thing going on, with white overalls, a bandana tied around her leg, and high top Converse sneakers. Steph wore a pointy Madonna bra over her T-shirt and a Michael Jackson glove. Oh, and she also wore silver moon boots.
Steph modeled in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. “I look hot,” she proclaimed. Then while Thriller played, she attempted to moonwalk across the carpet.
“Radical,” Millie said, appearing in the doorway. She whipped her phone out and pointed.
“No!” all three said at once. But it was too late, the photo was taken and already on its way to Facebook and other social media sites.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Amy said.
“Believe it,” Millie said.
“Most people your age can’t even work a phone, let alone send a photo to Instagram,” Steph said.
“Most people my age can’t do this either,” Millie said. She turned and executed a perfect moonwalk across the room and back. Amy, Parker, and Steph were awestruck. Millie took a bow.
“That was amazing!” Amy said.
“Thank you,” Millie said, taking a deep bow. She looked at Amy and asked, “So, I came by to find out… did you take the job?”
“I sure did,” Amy said. “I like Jeb a lot.”
“You’re taking a job here?” Steph asked. She looked pleased.
“For a while at least. I can’t leave my mother right now. I can’t desert her when she needs me the most.”
“Good, because we’re all getting rather attached to you,” Steph said. She looked at Parker and added, “Some more than others. And I have the proof.”
“What proof?” Millie asked.
“Nothing,” Amy quickly said.
Steph took the hint and changed the subject, “I almost forgot why I came here in the first place. Parker, can you help me hang a piece of sheetrock in my garage before Rosa gets home?”
“Uh oh. I sense trouble. What happened?” Parker asked.
“I backed my truck into the garage wall and it’s kind of messed up,” Steph said, looking shamefaced.
“How’d you do that?” Parker asked.
“I was thinking about food groups and shoved it in reverse instead of drive. Honest mistake,” Steph said trying to sound nonchalant.
“Why were you thinking about food groups?” Amy asked, folding the discarded clothes strewn across her bed.
“It’s a long story,” Steph said. She sat on the bed and began to pull off the moon boots.
“We’ve got time,” Parker said.
“Yeah, we’ve got nothing but time,” Millie said.
“I was thinking about the food pyramid,” Steph said. She unhooked her pointed Madonna bra and slipped it off.
“Why?” Millie asked.
“Because there is no way a person can possibly eat all the things on that pyramid during the course of one day. It’d be an enormous amount of food if you factored in the portion size,” Steph said.
“I can honestly say that has never crossed my mind,” Parker said.
“I made a bet with Eric, you know, my fellow firefighter, the one built like a brick house. He says it’s totally possible,” Steph said.
“Make him prove it,” Parker said.
“How?” Steph asked.
“Put together the food listed in the pyramid with the portion size and see if he can eat a full day’s requirement,” Parker said.
“Genius!” Steph said. She’d found Amy’s black fedora and placed it on her head.
“That ought to toast his roast,” Millie said. “Speaking of which, we’re having roast for dinner. Any takers besides Amy and me?”
“I wish,” Steph said, “but I promised Rosa barbequed spare ribs. And Parker promised to help me fix the garage wall.”
“I didn’t promise anything,” Parker said.
“There’s an extra spare rib in it for you,” Steph said.
“You talked me into it,” Parker said.
“After you fix the wall, make sure to take out one of the light bulbs in the garage so she won’t see it for a couple of days,” Millie said.
“Well, aren’t you the sneaky one,” Amy said.
“She’s right. The low light will give the spackling time to dry and look less suspicious,” Parker said.
“But she’ll wonder why I haven’t changed the bulb out because it’s a safety hazard with only one light bulb. Someone might trip,” Steph said.
“Then tell her you’re out of the right wattage of light bulbs,” Parker said.
“That’d be lying,” Steph said.
“How about you give me all your light bulbs, then you won’t be lying,” Parker said.
“You’ll give them back, right?”
“I’ll give them back. I promise,” Parker said. “I’ll put them in a specially marked box with ‘Steph’ on it so they won’t get mixed in with my light bulb collection,” Parker said wryly.
“You’d do that for me?” Steph looked genuinely touched.
“Anything
for a friend,” Parker said.
“Problem solved,” Millie said. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. “Now, what’s going and what’s staying?”
“We haven’t exactly gotten that far,” Amy said, feeling ashamed for having gotten so little done. “We got distracted.” She aimed a sly look at Parker who tried not to smile.
“I know it’s hard to get rid of things, but I have an idea about what to do with the clothes. The community theater is always short on costumes. They’d love this stuff,” Millie said.
Amy immediately felt better knowing the clothes would have a second life. “I’m all right with that,” she said.
It took the rest of the afternoon to box it all up. They loaded up Millie’s car with boxes of clothing to donate and Parker’s van with the to-be-kept memorabilia that she volunteered to store for Amy.
The empty room looked sad and lonely as Amy stood in the doorway bidding adieu to her childhood bedroom. Parker stood behind her.
“You okay?” Parker asked.
“It’s hard to let go of the past,” Amy observed.
“Hopefully, your future will more than make up for it.”
That’s exactly what Amy was counting on.
***
Steph and Parker hit Fenton Lumber and Hardware and got two sheets of sheetrock. As they waited their turn for checkout, Parker said, “Two sheets? That seems like more than a little ding in the wall.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s more than a ding,” Steph said, pulling her credit card out for the cashier.
They loaded the sheets into Parker’s van, moving the boxes of Amy’s records, posters, and other stuff. Steph didn’t want any of the nosy neighbors seeing her drive up with sheetrock in the back of her truck. One of them would inevitably ask Rosa about the latest home improvement. With Parker’s van, they could sneak it in.
“Did she give you all this stuff?” Steph asked, pointing to Amy’s boxes.
“No, I’m storing it for her until she figures out what she wants to do with it,” Parker said, shutting the rear doors of the van.
“If she’s staying, why not store them herself while the house is being fixed up? Unless she’s planning on moving in with you?”
Heart to Heart Page 14