Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3)

by Phelps, Brandi

  “Do you like your work at the hospital?”

  “It’s an important job, making sure the patients have nutritious meals.”

  “Do you like it?” Edwina was watching her closely.

  “Sure. It’s okay, I guess.”

  “Do you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life?”

  Aimee scrunched up her nose. “No. I’d like to be a stay-at-home mom, or maybe work part-time.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Something related to food. Tom and I started a catering business, but it didn’t work out.” And she was still paying off the loan they’d used to finance the business, but she saw no reason to mention the fact. “Tish still hires me occasionally for events at the hotel.”

  “So you think you’d like to work in catering?”

  “Maybe, but the hours don’t always work well for someone with a family. Lots of late nights and weekends.”

  “If not catering, then what?”

  “I’ve always liked the idea of opening a little mom and pop store with my husband. Maybe a bakery or candy store, where I’d make some of the items we sell.”

  Edwina jotted a note on the legal pad in front of her laptop. “What about your family?”

  “It’s always been just Mama and me. I’m an only child.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died when I was four. I can hardly remember him.”

  Aimee shifted in her seat. The statement was true enough. Most of the images she had were of a shadowy figure with upraised fists, yelling. Her mother would take her to the basement and lock the door. They’d play games or listen to music and ignore the yelling and banging from above. He’d left before Aimee turned five, and she hadn’t seen him since.

  “You listed compassion, and commitment as the traits you value most highly?”

  Aimee nodded.

  Edwina consulted the sheaf of papers she’d just had Aimee complete. “You described your ideal man as a gentle soul who’d rather talk things out than fight?”

  “Definitely. No violence, no yelling. Someone who can work things out in a reasonable manner.”

  Edwina made a note. “And the period in history you’d most like to visit? You left that section blank.”

  “There’s no particular period in history I’m drawn to,” Aimee said. “I’d say a time when family was important. I like the idea of going back in time, to a point where the world was simpler and life wasn’t so… confusing. When right and wrong were clearer.”

  “No particular time. Simpler life,” Edwina repeated.

  “Yes.” When Edwina didn’t follow up with another question, Aimee asked, “Do you think you can help me?”

  “Yes.” Edwina slid a glossy folder across the desk. “This packet explains our program. In Phase 1, you’ll have up to three initial matches, with two dates each, one on your match’s terms, and one on yours. After each match, I’ll meet with you to gather feedback and see if you want to move on to Phase 2 with that match or get another match. If you don’t choose to move to Phase 2 with any of the three initial matches, we’ll meet to evaluate what’s not working before we try another batch of matches. But that rarely happens,” she smiled.

  “Oh, do I have to buy the whole program?” Aimee hesitated. She hated to say it, but she made herself continue. “My budget’s a bit tight. I was hoping to pay for a single match or something.”

  “We find it works best if our clients follow the program as a whole. But we are running a promotion now. Phase I is free if you sign up by Friday, and you only pay if you choose to move on to Phase 2. If you do, we can work with you on payment terms.” Edwina stood up. “Why don’t you read over our materials, and you can come in and sign up when you’re ready?”

  “I will, thanks.”

  Aimee stood too and let Edwina walk her to the door, but she stopped before they left the office. “Wait!”

  “Yes?” Edwina halted beside her.

  “I don’t want to go home and read it over. I’m sure I want to sign up. I’d like to get my first match as soon as possible.”

  No more moping over Tom or feeling sorry for herself. Besides, she was afraid that if she left, she’d never come back.

  “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. And I have a request.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If my friend Charlene signs up for the program, I’d like a double date. It’s been so long since I’ve had a first date,” she explained, and Edwina made another note.

  Aimee returned to A Time for Love’s waiting room with a packet of papers and a date for Saturday night. Charlene’s appointment was scheduled immediately after Aimee’s, and the two friends had ridden together to the office. Charlene was leafing through a photo album, which she set down when Aimee appeared.

  “Your turn,” Aimee said.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Fine. We can compare notes afterwards.”

  Charlene still looked skeptical of the whole situation, but she followed the receptionist back to Edwina’s office. Aimee took Charlene’s seat and picked up the photo album she’d been viewing. The album contained page after page of happy couples. The last page was a photo of Dana and Benjamin, taken at their wedding. Dana was beaming at the camera, while Benjamin’s attention was on his new wife. Their happiness showed clearly in the photo, and Aimee felt tears sting her eyes. Dana was a good person. She deserved her happy ending. Could Edwina find someone for Aimee who’d bring her that kind of happiness? Maybe her picture would be in the album someday.

  She was still looking through the albums when Charlene returned, less than ten minutes later. Her friend’s expression was less than thrilled, but Aimee still thought coming to A Time for Love was a good step for both of them. Maybe they’d be following in Dana and Tish’s footsteps soon.

  “Ready to go?”

  Charlene didn’t wait for an answer, just headed for the elevator, and Aimee noticed she wasn’t carrying a packet like the one Edwina had given her. Aimee thanked the receptionist who’d shown her and Charlene to Edwina’s office and followed her friend outdoors.

  “Did the meeting not go well?” Aimee asked once they were in Charlene’s late-model Mercedes. She wasn’t sure she could go through with the date on her own. “I know you weren’t sold on the idea, so it’s okay if you decided not to join.”

  “No.” Charlene looked at Aimee and clarified, “I didn’t decide not to sign up. This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “I just thought it’d be great, going through the process together.”

  “Well, you got your wish. We’re double-dating Saturday night.”

  “Great!” Aimee smiled. “We can make a girls’ day of it. Do our nails, pick out clothes, help each other with our makeup.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  Charlene smiled back, but Aimee knew her friend was making the effort for her sake. She’d never known Charlene to date. Her life seemed to revolve around her career. Maybe it would be good for both of them to go out with some decent men. Even if the date was horribly awkward, it could hardly be worse than her breakup with Tom.

  Charlene managed to appear slightly more enthusiastic when she showed up at Aimee’s apartment on Saturday. Aimee rarely wore makeup, since it often didn’t hold up well in the heat of a busy commercial kitchen. But she had assembled all the cosmetics and makeup tools she had and grouped them in baskets on the coffee table, along with assorted hand creams and hair styling products, in a setup she remembered from a high school slumber party.

  “Do I need this much help?” Charlene asked as she set her bag on the floor beside the couch.

  “Not at all. I just thought it’d be fun getting ready together. And I need help.”

  Aimee knew she was fortunate; she was blessed with a near-flawless complexion, its creaminess set off by her straight, black hair. But her recent crying jags had left her skin blotchy and pink, and her eyes were puffy from tears and lack of sleep. Tom had told her he pre
ferred her natural look, so she’d gotten out of the habit of wearing makeup, but she definitely needed some tonight if she didn’t want to scare off her first match!

  “Do you have any soothing cream?” Charlene asked.

  She examined Aimee’s collection and selected a tube. Soon she had Aimee’s face slathered in a cooling mint gel and her nails painted with a sparkly frosted rose. She was efficient at everything she did, and Aimee felt completely incompetent next to her. She’d first met Charlene her junior year of college, when Charlene was starting law school. Aimee worked as a student clerk at the law library, and Charlene came to study in the reading room every day. Once, when Tom was late picking Aimee up, Charlene gave her a ride home, and the two gradually became friends.

  Now Aimee was thankful her friends hadn’t given up on her throughout the entire Tom fiasco. Once or twice, Tish had told her she should think about what she was doing, but Charlene had just been silently supportive. She didn’t deserve such a good friend. Tears stung her eyes again, and she tried to wipe them away without smudging her nail polish.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlene asked.

  “You’ve been such a great friend,” Aimee sniffled. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “You deserve happiness,” Charlene said firmly. “And who knows, maybe tonight will be the start of a wonderful relationship.”

  Her smile seemed more genuine this time, and she began rifling through the basket of lipsticks to find one that would match the nail polish.

  Thanks to Charlene’s help, Aimee looked better than she had in ages, she thought as she studied her reflection in the lobby mirror. Her hair gleamed, and the subtle makeup made her eyes look larger than normal. She felt confident in her appearance, and she hoped her date would appreciate it.

  “Good evening.”

  Whitney, the blond receptionist, showed them to a small conference room.

  “Edwina will be with you in a moment.”

  As soon as the younger woman left the room, Aimee turned to Charlene. “What if I can’t think of anything to say? What if he hates cooking, and that’s all I know to talk about?”

  “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine,” Charlene said calmly. “If you need me, I’ll help out. But if Edwina’s as good as Dana and Tish say, you and your match will hit it off instantly.”

  Her words made sense, but they didn’t really ease Aimee’s sudden anxiety. She hadn’t dated anyone but Tom in over six years, and she was afraid she’d be clumsy and awkward. Or worse, what if he said or did something to remind her of Tom, and she started crying? Maybe she wasn’t ready to date yet.

  Before she could sink deeper into a spiral of nerves, the conference room door opened, and Edwina walked in. She was neatly dressed, as always, in an old-fashioned blouse and skirt. She smiled, and Aimee felt better.

  “Your date is set in 1917,” she told them. “I have some period clothing you may want to wear.”

  She gestured to a rack of clothes Aimee hadn’t noticed before. Of course, the time warp date. Dana and Tish had told her the first date would have a going-back-in-time theme. Aimee looked through the rack and chose a striped blouse with ruffles and a full skirt.

  “Which one do you want?” she asked Charlene before she claimed her selections.

  “We spent almost an hour deciding what to wear, and now you want to change into a costume?” Charlene asked.

  “Yes. Please. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Charlene hesitated a moment and then gave in. “All right. But I’m not wearing that green lace thingie with the feathers.”

  “How about this?”

  Aimee held out a simple ankle-length dress in deep blue with black piping at the neckline and tiny jet buttons down the front. Charlene nodded. They carried the outfits into the bathroom to change, and all the clothes fit nicely. As Charlene helped Aimee button the back of her blouse, she muttered, “There’s something weird about this.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that Edwina has outfits that just happen to fit us?”

  “Not really.” Aimee shrugged. “We’re fairly standard sizes. I’m an eight, and you’re what, a four?”

  “Close enough.”

  Charlene seemed pleased at the remark, and Aimee decided not to say anything to spoil her friend’s sudden good mood. They reentered the conference room, and Edwina pointed them to the door at the far end.

  “Have a pleasant evening, ladies,” she said. “I’ll return for you at midnight.”

  “Return for us? I have a watch. I can tell time,” Charlene grumbled, but Aimee was already pushing the door open.

  Aimee stepped onto hard-packed dirt and looked around. She was in a large, high-roofed barn that smelled of hay and, more faintly, horses. Hay bales were stacked along one wall, and at the far end, a trio of elderly men were tuning their musical instruments, which appeared to be a fiddle, a banjo, and a cello. She glanced back and could see the conference room, but as soon as Charlene followed her through, the conference room door disappeared, and she could see the side wall of the barn.

  “Hello!” A skinny young man in overalls and a plaid shirt stepped around a stack of hay bales and smiled at her. “Adams or Woods?”

  “Woods,” Aimee answered.

  “She’s yours,” the young man said over his shoulder.

  He moved over to Charlene, and another man stepped from behind the hay bales. He was taller and stockier than the first man, and he stopped a few feet from Aimee.

  “I’m Josiah Holmes,” the first man said. “And this is my friend Frank Elkins. It’s a real pleasure to meet you, ladies. We’re having a barn dance tonight on account of Frank and I are fixing to go off to war, to show Europe how Americans fight. Come on,” he told Charlene. “You can watch me hang the bunting.”

  “I can help you hang the bunting,” Charlene told him, and they gathered up armfuls of red, white, and blue fabric and headed to the front of the barn.

  Frank stood with his arms folded in front of him and shuffled one foot through the hay strewn on the ground. Aimee studied him. He wasn’t as handsome as Dana’s new husband Benjamin, or as polished as Tish’s fiancé Lucas. Instead, he had broad shoulders, muscular arms, and chiseled, all-American features with a light dusting of freckles. Dimples flashed when he smiled shyly. He probably played football in high school and had cheerleaders hanging all over him. Aimee smiled back.

  “Do you like music, Miss Woods?”

  “Aimee, please. Yes, I like music.”

  They continued to stand next to the hay bales. The fiddler had finished tuning his instrument, and he was playing a series of scales as he warmed up.

  “Do you like music, Mr. Elkins?”

  “Frank, please. Yes, I like music.”

  Aimee tried to think of what to say next. It had been too long. She’d never liked first dates. Her stomach always twisted into a knot, and her mind went blank. What had she been thinking? Why had she thought going to A Time for Love was a good idea? It was too soon. She wasn’t ready. She might never be ready. She should just go home.

  “Do you like kittens?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Kittens. My cat just had kittens. Do you want to see?”

  “Sure.”

  He led her to the lone stall at the back of the barn. It was empty except for a small pile of hay in the corner. He motioned for Aimee to stay back, and they watched as the hay moved slightly. Finally a tiny, gray and black striped head poked out of the straw, disappeared, and reappeared with two other kittens.

  “They’re about a week old,” he whispered. “Want to hold one?”

  “Yes.”

  Aimee’s mother had never allowed pets in the house, and Tom had allergies, so Aimee had actually never held a kitten. Frank scooped two tiny balls of fur from the hay and handed one to her. The fur was unbelievably soft, and she copied Frank’s motion as she gently stroked the kitten’s fur. The kitten squinted up at Aimee and then nestled into her hand.

>   “It’s precious,” she said. “I don’t know much about animals. It seems so fragile.”

  “Life’s fragile,” Frank said. “Sometimes I feel like a kitten.”

  It seemed a strange image for someone so large and muscular. “In what way?” Aimee asked.

  “The farthest I’ve ever traveled is Atlanta, once,” he said. “I like it here on the farm, and I figure me going off to war is like turning this baby kitten loose in the midst of a buffalo stampede. I won’t know which way to go, and I’m likely to get trampled.”

  “You’re scared?”

  “Yes. I’m not brave like Josiah or the other boys that are signing up. I don’t want to go off to some foreign country and live in a tent. I especially don’t want to die.” The tips of his ears turned red, and he bent to set the kittens back in the hay. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You must think I’m an awful coward.”

  “Not at all. I think any sane person should be scared at the thought of war.”

  “Thank you for saying so.”

  He began walking back to the area where they’d left Charlene and Josiah. A few other couples had arrived, and the musicians were playing a lively tune. Josiah spotted them and grinned. “Come on, Frank! The caller’s here!”

  A man who could have been the fiddler’s twin took his position on a wooden box beside the musicians. A woman stepped up beside him and looked out at the small crowd. “Before we get started, thank you all for coming, to give my son a proper send-off when he goes to teach those Germans a lesson!”

  Everyone cheered, and she added, “We’ll be bringing out the refreshments soon, but meanwhile, form your squares, and Caleb here’ll tell you what to do!”

  Josiah claimed a spot on the open floor and motioned for the others to join him.

  “I don’t know how to square dance,” Aimee told Frank, since it appeared that was what they were about to do.

  “It’s easy. I’ll show you what to do,” he said.

  The music started, and Caleb called out the moves in a sing-song voice. At first they were simple, and Frank whispered instructions to Aimee or led her through the moves. The steps grew more complex, and Aimee kept tripping over her feet. She had to admit she enjoyed the feel of Frank’s strong arms when he swung her around or steadied her when she got off balance. Finally, as the couples lined up for a reel, Aimee touched Frank’s arm.