Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3)

by Phelps, Brandi

  She was never enough. Never pious enough for her mother, or smart enough at school, or pretty enough to get a boyfriend. Never polished enough for Tom. And now, not wholesome enough for Frank?

  “I’m sorry,” Edwina said. “I know it’s hard to hear, but I believe the feedback can help our clients improve their dating presentation.”

  Aimee heard the words, but she could hardly understand them. Her cheeks were red, and she was fighting to keep from crying. “Okay, thanks.”

  “I can have another match set up for you this weekend?” Edwina offered.

  “No, thanks. Maybe later.”

  Edwina talked some more, but Aimee was so focused on getting out of the office without crying that she didn’t attempt to listen. She just nodded, promised to call A Time for Love when she was ready for her next match, and escaped as soon as she could. Once she was in her car, she broke down. She slumped over her steering wheel and cried.

  She’d spent her childhood trying to please her mother, and her adult life so far trying to please Tom. She’d never succeeded in either. Now she couldn’t even get a date with a yokel farm boy, or whatever Frank did in real life. She had an apartment she couldn’t afford, a roommate she didn’t know, and a job that bored her. She’d given up her dream of owning her own business when Tom had bailed out of their catering company, and she had no prospects for improving her life anytime soon.

  A group of business men and women were coming out of the office building, so Aimee hastily dried her tears and started the car. She ought to go to work, but she felt like she couldn’t function normally in the kitchen today. She left a message on her boss’s answering machine that she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be in. She looped around the city expressway, trying to decide what to do. Her mother wouldn’t understand. Dana was on an extended honeymoon. Tish would come, but Aimee didn’t think she could stand being around someone who was glowing with happiness from her perfect romance with perfect Dr. Lucas.

  Charlene would probably be busy, but she was the only one who might understand. Aimee called her and, when Charlene didn’t answer, left a voicemail message.

  “I know you’re probably in court or doing something terribly important and lawyerish, but I’m taking the day off. I just need to get away, do some thinking. I’m heading to Castlewood. If you want to come, let me know. Thanks.”

  Castlewood was a state park only a fifteen-minute drive from Aimee’s apartment. She hadn’t been in years, but she used to love walking the trails. In college, she’d often gone to the park when she need some time alone to think or just to relax, and now she suddenly felt the need for the fresh air and open spaces.

  On a weekday morning, the park wasn’t crowded, and Aimee headed for a trail that would lead her up to the bluffs that overlooked the Meramec River. She walked at a leisurely pace but still found herself out of breath. She stopped to rest on a bench and realized she had a text from Charlene.

  “Just parked. Where are you?”

  Aimee texted back. She stayed on the bench and watched the slow flow of the river. She’d always liked this park. When she was little, her father had sometimes brought her here for a nature walk on a weekend afternoon. Her last and probably her fondest clear memory of him was here. He’d had some type of disagreement with her mother, “grownup talk,” they called it, and he’d taken Aimee and left the house. They’d walked for what seemed like hours before they found a bench to rest. Aimee hadn’t known what to say to him. She’d had her favorite stuffed animal with her, a plush bear in an unlikely shade of purple. She’d cried when she tripped over a tree root and dropped it in the dirt. Her father had helped her up and carefully brushed off every speck of dirt and leaves. Then he’d given her bear a thorough checkup before pronouncing it unharmed and handing it back to her.

  “Don’t ever be afraid of a little dirt, Aimee,” he’d told her. “If you fall down, just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going.”

  Aimee felt grubby now. She regretted ever setting foot in A Time for Love, and she wished she could travel back in time and undo her relationship with Tom. She’d like to return to when she’d been an innocent girl, absorbing everything her father said, cherishing time with him as a break from the tensions in the household. He’d been killed in a car wreck only a month or so later, and afterwards, Aimee often replayed her memory of their last hike together.

  Sometimes the memory made her cry, but today, she felt like she had no tears left. She was completely empty, and she just sat waiting, hoping that Charlene would show up and rescue her from her own misery. An elderly couple and a group of college students passed her, but no one disturbed her until she finally saw Charlene.

  Her friend was wearing one of the power suits she typically wore to work, but she had changed out of her usual pumps into sturdy athletic shoes, and she marched along the path with brisk steps. When she saw Aimee, she changed direction and sat beside her on the bench.

  “What’s wrong, Aimee?”

  “Everything.” Aimee knew the statement was too dramatic, but she couldn’t help it. “My job. Tom. My whole life. I used to come here with my dad, back when everything seemed possible. I loved the view and the river, and I thought I’d bring my daughter here someday. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever have one.”

  The words came pouring out. Charlene scooted closer and draped one arm over Aimee’s shoulder. The gesture was a rare demonstration of affection, and it started the tears Aimee hadn’t been able to cry.

  “I feel like such an idiot. Everyone knew my relationship with Tom wasn’t working. I knew it wasn’t working. But I couldn’t let go of it. I just kept giving more and more to try to keep it going. I gave up the catering business. I changed the way I dressed. We went to restaurants Tom liked, with people he wanted to impress. Whenever I thought about breaking up with him, he’d promise me that he was almost ready to get married. Almost, but never quite there. I believed Tom was the man God had chosen for me, and I just needed to wait for things to work out. Now I can’t believe I was such a pushover.”

  Charlene handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes.

  “And now, if I ever want a husband and family of my own, I have to date again, and I’m hopeless at it. Frank doesn’t want to see me again,” she hiccupped.

  “I’m so sorry.” Charlene hugged her, and they sat in silence until Aimee’s tears stopped. “Tell me what happened.”

  Aimee described her meeting with Edwina, and Charlene murmured sympathetically. “I don’t understand it,” Aimee finished. “I thought I’d shown him I was a date he could be proud of. I don’t understand why he asked for another match.”

  “It’s just one guy. He’s the first man you’ve dated since Tom. You’ll meet someone else.”

  “Not as nice as Frank. And if I can’t get him to like me, how can I think someone else would?”

  Charlene pulled away and looked Aimee in the eyes. “I’m not as good at this girl-to-girl talk as Tish is, so just tell me: do you want best friend sympathy or my honest opinion about what went wrong?”

  Aimee blinked tear-wet eyes at her. For a moment, she was tempted to say sympathy. She wasn’t sure she could handle another round of criticism, however well-intentioned. But she’d spent long enough hiding from not-so-pleasant realities. Surely she could handle a dose of the truth?

  “Your honest opinion,” she said. “But gently, please. I’m feeling pretty fragile at the moment.”

  “Okay. You said that Frank thought you might be a match after the first date, so the problem occurred with the second one. When Frank came here, you felt like you needed to impress him. I think you staged the date and acted the way you thought you needed to. And it would’ve worked, if Frank had been more like Tom. But he isn’t. I don’t think our hunky farm boy cares if you’ve been to Europe or can make a perfect cappuccino or know the difference between the various types of caviar. He just wanted to get to know you.”

  Charlene’s words stabbed Aimee’s already wou
nded ego. She turned away from her friend and stared down at the river, while fresh tears trickled down her face. Charlene patted her arm and waited.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlene said finally. “Forget I said anything. You’re a great person, and if Frank can’t recognize that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Thanks for the best friend sympathy,” Aimee sniffled. “But I needed the truth. You’re right. I’ve got to stop letting Tom influence the way I think or behave.”

  “Maybe you’re not ready to date yet?” Charlene suggested.

  Aimee thought for a moment. “I am. Actually, I’ve been getting over Tom for months, ever since he first left town without me. When he took a job in Colorado and said he didn’t want me to go with him, I thought I couldn’t make it without him, but I did. And yes, I was stupid enough to agree when he got the caretaking job and wanted me to join him. But when I was finally able to see he was just using me, and I left. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do that if I hadn’t already had time apart from him. Time to see I could manage without him and to begin to realize how completely he had been running my life. Better late than never, right?”

  “I agree. Learn from the situation, so you don’t make the same mistake again.”

  “I don’t think Frank’s anything like Tom. Do you?” Aimee asked.

  “From what I’ve seen, no,” Charlene confirmed. Aimee nodded thoughtfully, and when she didn’t speak, Charlene suggested, “Maybe you should try another match.”

  A slight breeze stirred the strands of Aimee’s hair, and she brushed them away from her face. “I want to see Frank agan,” she said.

  “But he’s getting another match.”

  “I know.”

  They sat in silence for a minute. “What are you going to do?” Charlene asked.

  Aimee shrugged. “Maybe I’ll write him a note,” she said. “Explain what happened. I could send it to Edwina and ask her to pass it along to Frank if his second match doesn’t work out. If we’re meant to be, we will be.”

  Charlene studied her for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll say a prayer for you.” She stood up. “Are you okay? I hate to say it, but I’ve got to get back to work. Lots of terribly important lawyerish things to do, you know.”

  “Sorry! I’ve taken up too much of your time.” Aimee felt guilty at interrupting her friend’s day, especially for the type of emotional crisis someone as much in control of her life as Charlene couldn’t really understand.

  “No, you haven’t,” Charlene told her firmly. “Call again if you need to. And let’s get together this weekend for a girls’ night, okay?”

  Aimee nodded. “That’d be nice.”

  Charlene headed back down the pathway, and Aimee stayed on the bench. She watched the flow of the water, the pattern of its movement, faster here, slower there, and then swirling in circles over a hidden rock. The talk with Charlene and the peaceful setting gradually helped to calm Aimee’s agitation. She didn’t know if she still had a chance with Frank or whether she could take the risk of asking for a second match. But she was lucky to have a friend who’d drop everything to come ease her out of a crisis. Maybe she wasn’t totally incompetent at life.

  Finally she got up and made her way to her car. Back at her apartment, she did as she’d told Charlene she would: wrote a note to Frank to tell him why she thought he should see her again. She emailed it to Edwina and felt much better. Charlene might have looked doubtful, but Aimee felt certain. If Frank was the man she was supposed to be with, he would answer her note, and they could try again.

  Chapter 6

  After her depressing meeting with Edwina on Monday, Aimee’s week didn’t get any better. Her car refused to start, which made her late for work, and she had to pay for a new battery. She broke the heel off her favorite pair of pumps during a sprint across the hospital parking lot in the rain. Her boss, the dining manager at the hospital, said her proposed winter menus were “too ambitious,” and that she should stick to the basics. Her absentee roommate turned up in the middle of the night, only to leave the next morning for a week in Florida with an old schoolmate. Aimee tried not to envy her, just to be thankful she’d left a check for half the rent.

  Worst of all, she was regretting her note to Frank. She wasn’t in junior high, so where had she gotten the idea that writing a note to say she liked him was a good idea? She hadn’t heard from him by Friday, and she could only hope he hadn’t laughed too hard when he read it.

  “Aimee, your cell phone was ringing.”

  Luann, one of the line cooks, held it out to her. The food service workers had to deposit their cell phones in a bin outside the kitchen, so the phones wouldn’t be a distraction during meal preparation and service. An unwritten rule was that if you passed by the phone area while a phone was ringing, you checked whose phone it was and let that person know.

  “Thanks.”

  It was probably either a wrong number or Charlene checking up on her again, but Aimee washed her hands and headed for storage room, the nearest quiet area where she could check her phone. The message indicator was blinking, so she dialed her voice mail.

  “Good morning, Aimee,” Edwina’s pleasant voice said. “Could you please call me at your convenience? I have a message from Frank.”

  Aimee’s heart jumped. He’d read her note. What was the message? Edwina wouldn’t keep her dangling if he didn’t want to see her again, would he? Or was she the type who believed in delivering bad news personally?

  Aimee dithered over whether to call immediately or wait until her lunch shift was over. She didn’t want to start crying if the response was negative, but she wouldn’t be able to concentrate until she knew. She took a deep breath and dialed A Time for Love.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Darby’s on another line,” the receptionist’s smooth voice said after Aimee identified herself. “But I have a message for you. Can you be at our office tonight at eight? Mrs. Darby has arranged a brief meeting with you and your current match.”

  Aimee hesitated. It was short notice, and she and Charlene had made vague plans to spend the evening together. But the message must mean Frank wanted to see her again! Charlene would understand.

  “I’ll be there,” she promised and thanked the receptionist.

  Immediately she dialed Charlene and left a message with the change of plans and then somehow got through the rest of her shift while mentally running through her wardrobe. She hadn’t bothered with laundry this week. Should she stop at her favorite shopping center for a new outfit? Did she have time for an emergency hair appointment?

  No. She’d blown their last date by trying too hard to impress Frank. She’d wear the same thing she’d planned to wear to meet Charlene, and her game plan for the night was just to be herself. The trouble was, she had spent so much time trying to fit into the role of fiancée for Tom, she was no longer sure what being herself meant.

  By the time she parked outside A Time for Love’s building, her nerves were jangling. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so nervous or why it mattered so much that Frank give her another chance. After all, she barely knew him. Tish would probably tell her it was a rebound romance anyway, and she shouldn’t take it too seriously. She wasn’t really sure why she felt it so important to make another attempt to connect with Frank, and if this meeting didn’t work out, she’d drop the idea and move on, she promised herself.

  Edwina appeared immediately after the receptionist called to let her know of Aimee’s arrival.

  “Good evening, Aimee. You look lovely, as usual.”

  She tucked her arm through Aimee’s and led her down a hallway past her office. Aimee inhaled Edwina’s vanilla scent and found her nerves beginning to quieten. They jangled again when Edwina led her through a door into a kitchen area with a small table where Frank was sitting. He stood up as Aimee entered.

  “Miss Woods. Aimee,” he corrected after a glance from Edwina.

  “Frank. It’s good to see you again.”

  He held out his
hand and enveloped hers in a firm handshake that left her skin tingling. He held out a chair for her, while Edwina fetched snack trays from the refrigerator and offered them coffee and bottled water. Then, to Aimee’s surprise, instead of leaving them, she pulled out the third chair at the table and sat.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Edwina said, “but I’ll be staying for the first part of this meeting, which I call a mediated date. Before we get started, I want to make clear that we’re here, as adults, to explore what’s best for the two of you. If either of you is uncomfortable with any topic or exercise I introduce, please feel free to say so.”

  She looked from one to the other, and they both nodded. Aimee glanced at Frank, and he met her eyes briefly before turning back to Edwina. The tops of his ears were red, and she wondered why he was already embarrassed.

  “We’re here because both of you see potential in the other, but you weren’t quite able to connect well enough on your dates to move on to Phase 2,” Edwina said. “We’ll go through a series of questions and exercises to help you get to know each other better. For this first exercise, I’ll call out questions about your tastes and preferences. Both of you respond, and if either wants to find out more about the other’s answer, you can ask a follow-up question. First question: early bird or night owl?”

  “Early bird,” Aimee said, and Frank agreed.

  “Rain or sunshine?”

  “Sunshine,” they said together.

  “Summer or winter?”

  “Summer.”

  “Sweet or salty?”

  “Sweet.”

  “Read a book or watch TV?”

  They both hesitated. “Watch TV,” Aimee confessed, hoping he wouldn’t think her too uncultured.

  “What do you like to watch?” Frank asked.

  “Cooking and fashion shows. Competitive ones mostly, the kind where chefs have to cook a gourmet meal with $5 and a jar of pickles or designers make a dress out of fishing tackle. What about you?”