Waiting on Love

by Leah Atwood

“Hi, Mom,” she said between sniffles.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Her mom offered a tight-lipped smile. “May I sit?”

  Amie scooted over. She didn’t say anything when her mom slid an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer. Rather than speak, she leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder and let the rest of her tears flow. When they finally subsided, she lifted her head. “Thank you for being here.”

  “No matter how grown up you are, you’ll always be my little girl.” A scowl tightened her mom’s face. “I could strangle Tim for putting you through this. It’s a good thing he’s already out of the country because your father has half a mind to hunt him down.”

  The thought of her father—who spent most of his free time indoors with his nose buried in a scholarly journal—tracking down Tim made her giggle in spite of herself. “And do what? Dad wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.” Her mom winked. “Besides, he could give Tim a verbal lashing he wouldn’t soon forget with all those ten dollar words of his.”

  “I bet.” She released a sigh as she took a survey of the decorations. “What do I do now?”

  “The only thing you can.” Keys jingled when her mom reached into her purse then handed Amie a tissue. “Move forward.”

  She blew her nose and looked her mom in the eyes. “How do I do that?”

  “Lots of prayers and a strong will.”

  “What about all of this?” She waved a hand in a horizontal semicircle.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve already spoken with your aunts, and we’ll take care of it.” Her mom glanced at her watch. “They’re meeting me here in an hour.”

  Darkness fell on Amie’s shoulders. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why she’d come to the church when it was the last place she wanted to be, but now she’d be here another two hours at least. “I appreciate their help, but you and I can get it done before then if we start now.”

  Her mom squeezed her hand. “Go home, Amie, and get some rest. Let us do this for you.”

  “I can’t leave it all to you.”

  “Sometimes you need to step back and let someone else come in and help.” Mom bent her head and dropped a kiss on her hair. “I’ll drop off dinner for you before I head home.”

  Too emotionally exhausted to argue further, Amie caved. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She stood and slid past where her mom sat in the pew. Back straight with false confidence, she marched to the set of double doors at the church’s entrance. Glancing over her shoulder, she stole a final glance at her broken dreams. If only easing the heartache was as simple as taking down the decorations. Her shoulders slumped, and she left the church.

  Once in her car, she tuned the radio to an AM station and listened to a droning voice discuss the latest political news. It was just boring enough to numb her mind. By the time she reached her apartment, she’d had fifteen minutes of reprieve.

  Until she opened her apartment door and saw a pile of unopened gifts from friends unable to attend the ceremony. Dropping her purse to the ground, she rushed to the stack and grabbed the top two presents. She shoved them into the closet with a force that shot up her arms. In less than a minute, all the packages were hidden in the closet—out of sight, but not out of mind.

  Amie leaned against the closet door then sank to the floor, burying her head in her hands. No tears came out, only a lonesome, grieving, angry sob. Her throat tightened. Where did she go from here? Mom had said to move forward, but, logistically, what did that include?

  Spring was coming to an end and summer loomed ahead. Could she cancel her leave of absence? She and Tim had agreed she would take time off work to set up their new home. In hindsight, she wondered why she hadn’t questioned him, or wondered why he’d left the responsibility entirely to her. Because I thought that’s what a loving wife would do and never imagined he’d leave me at the altar.

  Regardless, she had to make a decision. Financially, she could afford the leave of absence. Her job as a corporate trainer provided an above modest salary, and she’d saved a substantial portion of her check every payday since accepting the position five years ago, straight out of college.

  Still taking the leave of absence could give her time to accept her life had changed and come to terms with her continued single status. It would also save her the constant stares and questions from her co-workers. On the other side, how would she occupy her time? She’d worked sixty- plus-hour weeks for longer than she could remember. Could she fill those hours with meaningful activity? She wouldn’t know where to begin.

  Not to mention, she needed a place to live. Her lease ended at the end of the month, on the last day of May. There was always the house she’d bought with Tim, the house she’d thought she would be spending tonight in before leaving for her Jackson Hole honeymoon in the morning. But did she want to live in that house still? How would it even work? The mortgage was under his name, but in the note he’d left, he’d granted her permission to live there while he was gone. Yet another issue she’d have to deal with, thanks to Tim’s impulsive choice.

  No. Standing to her feet, one decision became clear. She wouldn’t move into the new house. Too many voided memories that never had a chance to happen would haunt her. Living there would be an unhealthy move. Whether it rented out or sat vacant until Tim’s return, she didn’t care. The house wasn’t her responsibility, and she wouldn’t live there simply to maintain the house until he came back to the states.

  With that decision made, a load lifted from her shoulders as she released a small portion of Tim’s hold on her. It gave her strength to think about the future with hope, rather than despair. She wanted to leave Charlotte—not to run away, but to revitalize. After years of hard work and cashing out most of her vacation time, she’d earned her leave of absence. She wouldn’t rush back to work, but would make the most of her three-month break.

  On a roll, the only major decision left to make was where to live.

  Jasper Lake.

  As soon as it popped into her head, she knew that’s where she wanted to go. Images manifested of childhood summers spent in the small community in the Adirondacks. Great Aunt Sally’s lake house was a place of serenity that conjured memories of day-long outdoor play after a breakfast of homemade sticky buns, then coming in at evening time for a dinner of trout caught by Uncle Hank.

  God rest his soul, Uncle Hank had died three years ago, but Aunt Sally was the same dynamo she’d always been, if not lonely for her companion of fifty years.

  Amie didn’t think twice before grabbing her keys and running back to her car. Aunt Sally would be at the church helping to take down decorations, no matter she was a guest and a visitor to North Carolina—that wouldn’t stop Aunt Sally from helping where needed.

  The drive to the church took half the time it had taken to get home an hour ago. Amie sped into the parking lot and burst from her car immediately after parking. She ran through the double doors, eager this time.

  “Aunt Sally.” Her voice echoed in the near empty building.

  Six women all turned and looked at her, then exchanged glances with each other.

  Her great aunt stepped forward. Wheat-colored hair, unfaded by age, glowed a golden hue under the church’s lights. “Yes, dear?”

  Out of breath from her sprint to the building, Amie’s lungs worked to draw in a deep gulp of air, then exhaled. “Is that open invitation to visit anytime still open?”

  “Always.” A sparkle appeared in both of Aunt Sally’s eyes.

  “What do you think of cancelling your flight, and I’ll drive you home?”

  Aunt Sally closed the gap between them and flattened her palm against Amie’s cheek. “A road trip with my favorite great-niece sounds delightful.”

  For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, Amie smiled. Three months from now remained a mystery. In the meantime, she’d have Jasper Lake and Aunt Sally.

  ood, Waiting on Love