Aimee (A Time for Love Book 3)

by Phelps, Brandi

  His mother was a knitter. Good to know. Aimee vaguely remembered a pair of knitting needles she has stuffed in the back of a closet somewhere. She should pull them out and practice a bit. Just in case.

  They passed a booth where kids were waiting in line to tie-dye t-shirts and caps and stopped beside a booth where the volunteer had stepped back to allow a preteen girl to demonstrate making a string bracelet. A small crowd had gathered, and the girls jostled each other to see who would be next. They had moved on towards a soap-making booth when Frank stopped suddenly.

  “What is it?” Aimee asked.

  “Do you see her?” He pointed. “I think she might be lost.”

  A young girl, maybe three or four, was standing alone, looking around at the crowd. Her face was scrunched up, and she clutched a pink balloon twisted into a flower shape. Almost immediately, the crowd blocked her from view, but Frank was already heading toward her. He reappeared, holding the girl by the hand. She was openly crying now and trying to pull away from Frank.

  “I think she’s scared of me,” Frank said. “See if you can get her to tell you her name, and I’ll track down someone with a bullhorn so we can find her parents.”

  He vanished before Aimee could object. She crouched down. The girl was obviously frightened. “Hi, I’m Aimee.”

  The girl didn’t answer. She was brown-skinned, with curly black hair pulled into two neat ponytails on top of her head, and her t-shirt read, “Girl Power” in sparkly purple letters. Aimee didn’t know what to do, but at least the girl wasn’t trying to pull away from her.

  “Can you tell me your name?” she asked. “If you’re lost, we’ll help you find your mommy or daddy.” When the girl didn’t answer, Aimee kept talking. “I’m working here today. Helping with the food. I’m the waffle lady.”

  The girl glanced up with tear-drenched brown eyes.

  “Do you like waffles?”

  The girl shrugged.

  “Tell me your name, and then, if it’s okay with your mom, I’ll make you the best waffle you’ve ever had. With strawberries and whipped cream,” she added persuasively.

  The girl stuck a finger in her mouth and looked down at the ground. “Kywa,” she said.

  “Kywa?”

  “Ky-wa.”

  “Kyla?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Nice to meet you, Kyla. Is your mommy here?”

  Kyla shook her head.

  “Your daddy? Your grandmother? No? Who brought you here?”

  “Miss Jennifer.”

  Frank reappeared, accompanied by a police officer, who held a bullhorn. Kyla buried her face against Aimee’s leg.

  “Her name’s Kyla, and she’s here with Miss Jennifer,” Aimee reported.

  The policeman was preparing to make an announcement when a fortyish woman in a gauzy skirt hurried towards them. Four children of similar ages trailed her, each carrying a balloon animal.

  “There you are, Kyla! You know you’re not supposed to wander off in a crowd!” The woman turned to the police officer and Aimee. “Jennifer Aregan. I run a preschool program, and these are my little angels. We were in line for balloon animals, and apparently Kyla didn’t want to wait!”

  Kyla shifted from Aimee’s leg to Miss Jennifer’s leg, and the woman paused to give her a hug. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’m so sorry,” she told them. “I only turned away for a moment, and she was gone.”

  The officer studied the two of them and then nodded. “Just keep her close, ma’am. It’s easy to lose a child in a crowd like this.”

  “I will.” Miss Jennifer brushed her long, grayish blond hair aside and leaned over to hoist Kyla into her arms. “You’re staying with me, little missy.”

  “I said I’d make her a waffle, if it’s okay with you,” Aimee said.

  Miss Jennifer eyed the kids that now surrounded her. “Why not,” she sighed. “We were heading for the food booths next anyway.”

  Aimee made waffles for the kids, while Frank slipped away to resume his duties at the carnival games. Once the kids had eaten, Miss Jennifer pulled out a pack of baby wipes, and she and Aimee cleaned away the syrup and fruit topping smeared on little hands and faces. Then Kyla raised her arms, and Miss Jennifer nestled her against her shoulder.

  “Tell Miss Aimee thank you,” she instructed, and the kids did.

  As they were leaving Kyla raised her head from Miss Jennifer’s shoulder and waved goodbye. Aimee returned the wave.

  When she turned back to the table, Whitney was watching her. “You must be good with kids,” she commented.

  Aimee smiled at the compliment. Five minutes spent helping a lost little girl was nothing compared to being responsible for a child twenty-four/seven, but she was proud of how she’d handled it. At the very least, it was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t be a bad mother if someday she decided to have a child. Or three or four.

  Chapter 8

  When the volunteer in charge of the food booths announced that the carnival was closed, Aimee collapsed into one of the folding chairs beside their table. Whitney joined her, and they sat in silence for a moment.

  “Great job, ladies,” a passerby complimented them.

  “Exhausting job,” Aimee said.

  She looked down at her t-shirt and jeans, covered with streaks of batter, syrup, and fruit despite the aprons she’d worn. She glanced over at Whitney, whose skirt and blouse were still pristine.

  “How did you manage to stay so clean?”

  “Tons of practice,” Whitney said. “I have three younger brothers and a sister.” She shrugged. “I’m used to kids.”

  You would have a lot in common with Frank, Aimee thought.

  “But I’m looking forward to a quiet, kid-free night.”

  “You’re not married?”

  “No.”

  “You should get an employee discount if you ever need a match,” Aimee said. Whitney’s expression froze, and Aimee apologized immediately. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosy.”

  “It’s all right.”

  But Whitney jumped up to begin folding the chairs around their table, and Aimee sensed she had touched a sensitive topic.

  She forgot about Whitney when Frank came in to pick up their chairs. They reloaded the van quickly. A handful of volunteers was heading out for pizza, and they invited the group from A Time for Love to join them. Edwina and Whitney declined. When Frank hesitated, Edwina urged him and Aimee to join the group.

  “You’ve worked hard today. Enjoy yourselves. Whitney and I can unload anything urgent, and the rest can wait,” she said, anticipating Frank’s objection.

  “I’m kind of a mess,” Aimee pointed out.

  “I have an extra t-shirt in the van.”

  In the community center bathroom, Aimee cleaned up as best she could and changed into the fresh shirt with A Time for Love’s logo. Minutes before, she had felt too exhausted to move, but the prospect of the evening with Frank energized her, and her eyes sparkled as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t had much time with Frank today, but somehow she felt like they had grown closer. Maybe the pizza date would help her see if she was right.

  They followed the directions another volunteer had given them. The pizza place would be packed later, but it was still early, and they had no trouble finding a parking spot. Some of the volunteers had already pulled together two large tables, and Aimee and Frank joined them.

  “Hi! Waffles, right?” A fifty-something woman in a pink polo shirt, her graying hair cut in a neat bob, smiled. “I’m Lucy Cohen, from the popcorn stand, and that’s my husband Charles.” She nodded towards a man in a police department t-shirt, talking to a group at the end of the table.

  Aimee introduced herself and added, “This is my… friend, Frank.” She wasn’t sure what else to call him.

  Frank shook hands very politely and then excused himself to join the group of men.

  “So, are you a professional waffle-maker, or is it just a hobby?” Lucy asked with a
smile.

  “I’m a trained chef, but at the moment I work in food services at a hospital,” Aimee explained. “What about you?”

  “I own a little snack shop. We serve gourmet popcorn, homemade candies, nuts, etcetera.” She shrugged.

  Aimee’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re Lucy from Lucy’s Yummies?” The Lucy who had almost single-handedly started a mini restaurant row featuring local eateries and specialty shops?

  The other woman nodded. “Sure am.”

  “Wow. I love your salted caramel popcorn! And the spiced pecans.”

  When she could afford it. Treats at Lucy’s were always yummy, but they were also a bit pricy. The shop wasn’t far from Hilbrand’s downtown, and Aimee had visited it a few times with Dana and Tish.

  “Thanks.” Lucy smiled. “What’s your favorite dish to make?”

  The two women chatted about food until the waitress delivered their pizza order. Frank sat down beside Aimee. She served him a piece, and he returned the favor. Aimee picked up the slice and studied it. Thick crust, Chicago-style, with sausage, peppers and onions. It looked appetizing, and she bit into it.

  “You do that every time,” Frank commented.

  “Do what?”

  “You study your food like you’re judging it and then close your eyes when you take your first bite.”

  Lucy smiled across the table. “Hazard of the business. We foodies are always on the lookout for new inspiration!”

  Aimee was flattered that Lucy would lump her in the same category as herself. She nodded, but before she could speak, Lucy continued, “I think all professions have their quirks. What do you do for a living, Frank?”

  “Right now, I’m a farmer.”

  “Really? What type of farming do you do?”

  Aimee was surprised, since she’d assumed the whole farming thing was part of the time-warp date. But Frank’s confident answers showed he definitely had real-life farm experience. If their relationship developed, would he expect her to move to his farm, wherever it was? Aimee wasn’t sure how she felt about it. They definitely needed to talk. But at the moment, she was just enjoying his pleasant, undemanding company.

  The meal continued, with lively conversation. Lucy introduced Aimee and Frank to the other volunteers, and at the end of the meal, she asked for Aimee’s contact information.

  “I do a lot of charity work, and sometimes we need workers for food booths. Any chance you might be interested?”

  “Definitely.”

  Aimee gave her phone number and email and accepted the business card Lucy offered her in return. She was smiling as she and Frank headed for the car.

  “Where to?” she asked. She was in no rush to end their evening, but she didn’t want to assume that Frank would want to prolong it.

  “Back to A Time for Love. I need to unload the van.”

  Admirable, to take his responsibilities so seriously, but Aimee couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Or maybe he was tired of being with her?

  They drove in silence until they reached the parking lot outside A Time for Love. Aimee parked near the white van and waited for Frank to get out. She kept her tone and expression cool. If he didn’t want to spend more time with her, that was fine. She wasn’t going to ask and give him the chance to reject her again.

  “Are you coming in?”

  “No,” Aimee said. “Why, do you need help?”

  “I don’t know if Edwina wants to see us. You, I mean. She’ll see me.”

  His manner had changed. Aimee was looking out the window, but she turned to face him. “Why would she want to see me?”

  “We’re trying again, aren’t we? To see if we want to move on to Phase 2 and keep dating?” Frank ducked his head. “I was wondering if you’d decided.”

  “If I decided? You were the one who said you wanted another match. I was ready to continue to Phase 2 after our first dates.”

  “You were?” Frank glanced up at her. “I thought I’d completely blown it, that you’d never be interested in someone as boring as me. I’m just a small-town boy who’s never had any desire for the big city, and I don’t know much about all the things you enjoy. So I told Edwina she might as well find me another match, and I’m afraid I said a few things that weren’t as kind as they should’ve been.”

  Aimee appreciated his honesty and decided to risk telling him the truth in return. “I’m sorry for how I acted that night. My last boyfriend always made me feel like a naïve little schoolgirl, and I was trying to impress you with my sophistication.”

  “I don’t care if you’re sophisticated. I had fun with you today.”

  “I don’t care if you’ve never traveled and aren’t a foodie. I always have fun with you.”

  He grinned, and Aimee felt herself smiling back at him. He opened the car door. “Then let’s go tell Edwina!”

  He held out his hand. Aimee climbed out of the car to join him, and they walked hand-in-hand up to A Time for Love-s office.

  “What if she’s already left?” Aimee asked.

  “She hasn’t. She won’t leave before I’m back,” Frank answered confidently.

  Aimee wondered how he knew, but before she could ask, Whitney, the blond receptionist, materialized from an inner office and greeted them.

  “We need to see Edwina,” Aimee announced.

  “I’m sorry, she’s busy at the moment, but if you’d like to wait, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  Whitney showed them into a conference room down the hall from the one where Aimee had started her first date with Frank. Cups and a pitcher filled with fresh ice water waited on a tray in the center of the conference table. Frank picked up the pitcher and, when Aimee nodded, poured them both glasses of water.

  “You told Lucy you were a farmer,” Aimee recalled. “You live on a farm now?”

  “Yes. My family’s farm.”

  “Where?”

  “In Florence, Alabama.”

  “Do you plan to stay there?”

  Frank shrugged. “It would depend on my motivation for moving. If, for example, I met a wonderful girl who lived somewhere else, like maybe St. Louis, then I would consider moving.”

  Aimee felt her cheeks turning pink. “There aren’t many farms in the middle of St. Louis.”

  “True. Milking cows at dawn, herding them in the rain, mowing hay in hundred-degree weather? It’s a lot to ask, but I might be willing to give it all up for some cushy desk job, or whatever it is you non-farmers do.”

  “Food services is definitely not a cushy desk job!” Aimee said.

  “What do you do in a typical day?”

  Aimee described the meal planning and preparation, and Frank asked questions. They were still discussing her job when the conference room door opened, and Edwina entered.

  “I understand you two have something to tell me?”

  “Yes.” Frank stood up and pulled out a chair, but Edwina didn’t sit. “It’s about Phase 2. We’ve decided--”

  “I’ll need to talk to you individually,” she cut in. “Frank, if you’d give Aimee and me a moment?”

  Frank seemed to deflate slightly. “All right.”

  After he was gone, Edwina turned to Aimee. “What’s your assessment of your time with Frank?”

  “He’s nice. He loves children. He’s helpful and polite. I’m comfortable talking to him. He’s great! I could see myself with him.”

  Instead of appearing pleased at Aimee’s enthusiastic answer, Edwina frowned slightly. “See yourself with him?”

  “Yes. Long term. Maybe even—“ Aimee didn’t want to use the “m” word yet. “Permanently.”

  “And you think you could make things work?”

  “Oh, yes. I know a relationship takes lots of work, and I’m willing to do it. Frank said he’d move here, but I’d also consider moving. Whatever it takes to make it work.”

  “All right.” Edwina nodded. “The good news is, you’re already in Phase 2, unofficially anyway, and you just had your first date.
If Frank also wants to continue, I’ll text you the details of the next date, which I’m planning. Thank you for all your help today.”

  She stood up, and Aimee realized the meeting was over. She hoped to see Frank on her way out, but the offices were empty. Edwina escorted Aimee to the elevator and was still watching her as the doors closed. Almost as if she wanted to make sure Aimee was out of the office.

  But Edwina’s eccentricities didn’t matter. What mattered was her relationship with Frank. It was going well. She could hardly wait for her next date. Five dates in Phase 2, and then they’d enter Marriage Preparation. Tom would never have expected her to move on so soon, especially not to someone stronger, handsomer, and far more marriage-ready than he had ever been.

  She might even be engaged by Christmas!

  Chapter 9

  “I’m sorry I forgot to call you last night,” Aimee said as she pulled out a chair across from Charlene. The bistro Charlene had chosen was crowded with Sunday brunchers, but Charlene had claimed a prime spot near the front window.

  “I take it the day went well?”

  “It was great!”

  Aimee described the carnival and the pizza date afterwards, pausing only long enough to order a spinach omelet, fruit, and coffee.

  “So now we’re in Phase 2!” she concluded. “I’m just waiting for Edwina to set up our next date!”

  “That’s great, Aimee.” Charlene took a bite of her boiled egg. “How’s work going?”

  “Fine.” Aimee waved a dismissive hand. “Did I tell you Frank’s a farmer? His family actually grows things!”

  “Do you see yourself as a farmer’s wife?”

  Aimee shrugged. “Maybe. Whatever it takes to make things work.”

  “Isn’t that what you said about Tom?”

  “What?”

  Charlene sighed. “Never mind. I’m glad things are going well with Frank, and I hope you two have a great time in level two or whatever it is. You deserve happiness.”

  “Thanks. Now, tell me about you.”

  “I’m working on an exciting case. I can’t tell you the details now, but it fits with the reason I became a lawyer. I’ll tell you more about it when I can.”