Amy nodded, even though she wasn’t sure she remembered a Russell from high school. “What does he have to do with whether or not you call a talk-radio show?”
Quentin sighed. “Russ would call it looking out for my best interests. I call it interfering in my life. To put it bluntly, he’s always looking for a reason why his sister needs a husband and why I need a wife.”
“So by going on the talk-radio show you’ve given him more ammunition for his argument.”
“Yes. And I’m sick and tired of hearing the argument.”
“Is she pretty?” Amy regretted the question as soon as it flew past her lips.
“Not as pretty as you.”
An uncomfortable silence settled in the truck as Quentin kept his eyes on the road and Amy resisted the urge to turn away. If she did that, he’d know how his words had affected her. Instead, she merely glanced down at her lap.
Pretty. Did he mean it? She’d always wanted to be pretty, and had always hoped Quentin found her as such. Obviously he hadn’t since he dumped her at the first chance and then married Karen.
Beautiful Karen, cheerleader, long blonde hair styled just like Jennifer Aniston from Friends—Amy still enjoyed watching the reruns—with perfect white teeth and her skin always tanned to perfection. The girls outside of Karen’s popularity group always had a running joke that she used a tube of mascara a week and sunbathed whenever the sun peeked through—no matter that there was only one month a year in Goose Bay when it was warm enough to sunbathe.
Though Karen and Quentin had been best friends since they were young children, Quentin always assured Amy they were friends and nothing more. Still, Amy always felt inadequate and rather like an ugly duckling whenever Karen was around.
At the moment though, Amy felt nothing but mean. Here she was thinking hateful thoughts about a woman who was no longer alive. As soon as Quentin pulled up in front of the diner, she hopped out of the truck and headed for the door, relieved to be able to turn her thoughts to something besides their troublesome past—though she wasn’t entirely sure Quentin’s problems with Shayna were less than troublesome.
Help me, Father, she prayed. Help me help him. And help me understand why I’ve found myself in this situation.
Heart pounding, Amy led the way into the restaurant and wondered about God’s plan in all of this.
5
When Quentin dipped his last fry in ketchup, Amy said, “I haven’t been able to come up with a solution for you.”
For some reason, they’d avoided talking about the purpose for their lunch. Almost as if talking about it would take away something from the very fact that they were together again. No, not together, Quentin reminded himself. Just a little problem solving. Instead, he’d entertained her with the antics of his employees.
Now, pressing his lips together, he nodded. “I understand. It’s hard to say ‘do this or do that,’ when it’s not your kid.”
“Quentin, it’s not that! Really. I thought about it all night. Honest I did.” She used her straw to twirl the ice in her tea then picked up the straw wrapper and began folding it into neat little squares.
“I know.” He sighed wearily. He’d noticed the circles under her eyes earlier when he picked her up. At first he thought maybe she’d been crying, but she’d blamed it on hay fever. “I thought of nothing else, myself.” Liar. But he couldn’t very well tell Amy he’d spent most of the night thinking of her instead of his daughter. He was no better than the predatory teenager he was trying to protect Shayna from. “I, however, was able to come up with a solution.”
She dropped the paper she’d been fiddling with and gazed at him. “You have?”
“Yes.” His heart thudded uncharacteristically as he prepared himself for her reaction. “You can help me keep an eye on her.”
“Oh, Quentin, I thought I’d already agreed to that.” Amy looked away from him and stabbed her straw at the lemon in her iced tea. “While she’s in my class and if I see her in the halls and notice anything—”
“No, I don’t mean like that. I mean, tonight, while she’s at the drive-in. You can go there with me, and we can keep an eye on her and that Baxter kid. And if he so much as puts one layer of epidermis on her, I’ll—”
“Wait just a minute here. What are you talking about?” Amy stared at him incredulously and he squirmed under her gaze.
Don’t let her say no. Quentin hadn’t realized until that moment just how much he wanted her to say yes. And not just to help keep an eye on Shayna.
“I’m not going to the drive-in with you.”
Disappointed, he let out the breath he’d been holding. “Amy, please—”
“Forget it.”
“But Amy, you don’t understand—”
“Yes, I do. You, Quentin, are the one who doesn’t understand. I’m Shayna’s teacher. It would be—” She picked up the straw wrapper again, twisted it a few times before it broke, then glanced around the restaurant as if she could snatch the right words out of the air. “It would be unprofessional. And I’m not going to the drive-in with you to spy on her.” She dropped the remnants of the paper into her glass, stood, and headed for the exit.
Disappointment crushed Quentin as he hurriedly pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table. Then, hoping he could catch up and reason with her, he left the diner hot on Amy’s heels.
****
Amy couldn’t believe Quentin wanted her to go to the drive-in with him. That was the last place she wanted to go. Memories of the past were bound to surface there, memories she didn’t want to relive. She was supposed to be putting him out of her mind, forgetting about him.
Now that she’d seen him again, she realized the further you got from the past, the bigger and brighter it seemed. Quentin had been so built up in her mind, all other men paled in comparison. But the reality was, Quentin was a man just like any other. A man, plain and simple. Why then, did she have this fantasy that he would whisk her away on a white horse and make all the pain of the past disappear with the sunset?
Halfway down the sidewalk, she froze when someone caught her by the arm. She knew it was Quentin before he even spoke. She knew because his touch sent a pang of longing right through her. Don’t turn around, her common sense warned her. Don’t look into his eyes. Blue eyes. Eyes she’d fallen in love with at age sixteen. Eyes that had crept into her thoughts more than once over the years.
“Don’t leave.” His deep voice vibrated straight to her heart. “Please?”
Unable to help herself she turned around, but refused to make eye contact. Instead, she concentrated on the red flannel shirt that accented his muscular build. She noticed the third button from the top was missing. Perhaps she should offer to sew it back on.
“What do you want me to do?” She fought to keep the weariness from her voice.
“Just come to the movie with me. We can keep an eye on Shayna. That’s it. Just help me protect my little girl.”
His pleading tore at her heart, and she looked up without thinking. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. He studied her with his intense gaze, blue the color of the Pacific on a sunny day, and she felt the breath woosh from her lungs. She wanted to turn away, go back to studying the buttons on his shirt, but it was as if she were a puppet on strings with the puppeteer forcing her head up.
“I know you want Shayna to be safe. I understand that, and I want to help. But Quentin, she’s not a little girl anymore. She’s fourteen. To a girl, that’s almost a woman.”
Quentin looked as though she’d shot him through the heart, and that look had her feeling as if she’d been shot as well.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered thickly. “I know it’s not easy watching your daughter grow up.”
“It’s not. Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock and keep her four years old forever...”
...with a mother. Amy finished his unspoken words silently. Her heart felt heavy. Why, oh why, had he married Karen? Was that why he’d stood her up? H
ad Karen been prettier? Kissed better? What had she done wrong? The questions that had haunted her for the last seventeen years continued to haunt her now as she observed that faraway look in Quentin’s eyes. She knew without a doubt he was thinking of Karen.
The loneliness he must be feeling tore at her, and she wished she could do something, anything to ease his pain. Maybe that’s why she was here. To help him through this crisis with his daughter. Maybe that was why God was throwing her together with Quentin when she’d been trying so hard to put him out of her mind. God wanted her to help Quentin. And if that meant going to the drive-in movie, that’s what she’d have to do.
“So,” she said with a brightness she didn’t feel. “What movie will we be seeing?”
****
Clothes littered the bed and the light blue carpeting beneath. Unsure whether to opt for the ‘teacher’ look, or to go casual, Amy had changed half a dozen times. Dressy was definitely out, since they were just going to the drive-in movie. Not that it should matter what she wore. It wasn’t like she hoped Quentin would notice her.
Or was it? Her heart thudded.
Though she didn’t like to admit it, she’d had a few sleepless nights over the years that inundated her with thoughts of him. But never more frequently than after she’d made the decision to come to Goose Bay. Those thoughts were becoming so intrusive they might actually drive her insane. That, in fact, was part of the reason she’d come here.
Every single relationship she’d ever had was over before it began because she compared every man to Quentin. Of course, she wasn’t really comparing them to him. Rather, she’d built him up in her mind to be someone larger than life even though she didn’t really know him anymore. And how much had she really known him then, anyway? They’d been teenagers, kids. They hadn’t even known who they were, let alone known each other.
That’s why she had to deal with this and put it behind her. So she could get on with her life and maybe even have a love life. Maybe even with Jared. Jared, a highly respected Seattle lawyer, was the first reliable man she’d ever dated. He was caring, compassionate, attentive, and never let her down.
Still, every time he tried to hold her hand or kiss her, memories of Quentin besieged her.
So when Amy had received a Christmas card from Miki mentioning the temp job, she’d jumped at it. Ever patient and supportive, Jared was quite understanding about her decision. But he also let her know in no uncertain terms, that he’d be waiting for her when she decided to return.
As soon as she’d arrived in town, knowing it was a matter of time before she’d run into Quentin, Amy began a fervent prayer campaign. Please let me talk to him one time. One more time, and I’ll be able to get him out of my system forever. And she’d never doubted God would answer her prayer. But she didn’t understand the way He answered. Why was she being thrown together with Quentin in this quest to ‘save’ Shayna from her behavior?
Had the Lord seen into the deepest recesses of her heart, known what she’d barely dared admit to herself? That what she’d secretly hoped for all along was not only to see Quentin again but also to spend time with him? Maybe, she reasoned as she rummaged through skirts, sweaters, and jeans, maybe she needed more than a passing glimpse to get him out of her mind. Maybe she needed to spend time with him for the actual healing to begin. Maybe helping Shayna was just an added bonus.
Then, when the school year was over, she could go back to Issaquah and marry Jared. Something about that thought didn’t sit well with Amy, but her cell phone chirped at her before she could think it through. Her first thought was that Quentin was calling to cancel. But then she looked at the name on the screen.
Jared.
Coincidence? Amy didn’t think so and considered not answering. She meant to call him when she thought about it the other day, but she still hadn’t. He’d be hurt.
Not allowing herself time to think about it, Amy flipped open the phone. “Jared, hi.”
“Amy?” Instead of his usual warmth, his voice resonated with a clipped, icy tone. She’d been right, he was hurt.
“Jared, I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve called you. It’s just that there’s been this thing with one of my students and…I don’t know. That’s not a very good excuse for ignoring you.”
“It’s OK. I understand.” His voice warmed just a bit. “I know you’ve been busy getting settled into your classroom and your rental home. But other than calling to tell me you made it there safely, I haven’t heard from you. Amy, I miss you.”
The plaintive edge to his last comment tugged at Amy’s heart and she started to answer back. But a flash of awareness struck her and she realized she’d be lying.
Lying? Really? Amy sighed. In truth, she missed his friendship and their conversations, but she didn’t miss him. She closed her eyes and tried to picture him, but the image was faded, blurred, not sharp and clear like when she thought about Quentin.
“Jared, I really do feel bad that I haven’t called you sooner. And I feel even worse because I can’t talk right now. I have someone picking me up in a few minutes, and I’m not ready. But I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, if that’s OK.”
“Are you going on a date, Amy? With him?” The clipped tone was back.
“No, Jared, I’m not going on a date. But I am going with Quentin, if that’s who you’re referring to.” She was hurting him, and she hated it. “I said I’d help him with his daughter. It’s too hard to explain right now. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when I call.” She looked at the clock. “I really hate to do this, but I do need to go. I’m sorry.”
This time it was Jared who sighed. “I am, too, Amy. Good night.”
Amy said good night, but when he didn’t answer, she realized he’d disconnected and most likely hadn’t heard her. Feeling like a rotten excuse for a human being, Amy blew out a heavy breath and turned back to the closet. Her heart was no longer into picking just the right thing, and she really needed to get ready.
Relaxed was best. She finally chose her favorite blue jeans and a sweater. An old-fashioned looking sweater with cabbage roses was feminine yet warm and comfortable. She always did get cold at the drive-in, and something told her she’d better not count on Quentin to warm her up like he had in the past. Nor should she even be thinking along those lines.
By the time she was dressed, she’d managed to exchange the heaviness her heart felt over hurting Jared for a case of good old-fashioned nerves. She realized it when her hands trembled as she buttoned her sweater. That’s why her thoughts were so rambly and nonsensical.
She really should to turn it over to God. He knew her deepest thoughts. But her deepest thoughts and desires didn’t necessarily equate with what was best for her, and He only wanted what was in her best interest. She should stop trying to second guess Him, stop trying to rationalize things. She needed to stop fighting it and let God take care of things--to trust Him more.
As she smoothed down the fine lace collar of her sweater, Amy’s finger caught in the chain at her neck. For a brief moment, she froze. The necklace. She couldn’t wear it. Even if she tucked it into the sweater as she always wore it, the shape of the collar would allow it to be seen. She didn’t want Quentin to know that after all these years she still wore it. She removed the necklace with regret and placed it on her dresser, then sat down to put on her shoes.
After lacing up her sneakers, Amy glanced in the mirror for a final inspection then back at the necklace that glittered against the doily on her dresser. She brought her hand to her neck, surprised at the empty feeling she found there. Sighing deeply, she left the room, determined to leave these bereft feelings behind.
There were more important things to concentrate on right now, like her nerves and how she was going to get through tonight with Quentin.
It wasn’t a date, she reminded herself sternly. Not a date. Just a mission. To protect Quentin’s daughter.
****
“What are we going to say if Shayna sees us?”<
br />
Amy’s voice had a nervous edge to it, which echoed the churning emotions in the pit of Quentin’s stomach.
“We’ll just tell her we’re on a date.” He kept his tone deliberately matter-of-fact, never taking his eyes off the road. If he so much as glanced at her, she’d be able to tell with only the illumination of the dash lights and passing cars just how much he wanted that to be true.
A date.
The truth was, until he’d driven up to find her waiting for him on the white-washed porch of her little yellow country house, the porch light casting a shimmer on her chestnut brown hair, he’d done a fairly good job of convincing himself this was merely a means to an end. A way to keep his daughter safe.
But Shayna aside, he wanted it to be more. If only there wasn’t a past standing between them. A past he wanted to apologize for, to explain. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t stand to see the certain recrimination in Amy’s eyes, couldn’t bear to see the dawning realization that her father’s taunts of him being an unreliable no-account were absolutely dead on.
“We won’t have to worry about it anyway,” he said finally through tightly clenched jaws. “I mean, she is the one lying. She’s not supposed to be here at all. Chances are if she sees us, she’ll hide.” His words sounded lame, even to his own ears, like he was trying to justify a lie. And Amy’s silence made him all the more uncomfortable.
Obviously she didn’t like being considered his date. Not that he blamed her. Every scornful thought she must hold toward him was well deserved. He knew he owed her an explanation; she deserved one. But he didn’t want to explain, preferring instead to hold out hope that once this “date” was over and things with Shayna were squared away, they might find a way to become friends again. But the chance for that, after he told her the truth, was nil. He stood a better chance of walking barefoot on a bed of nails and coming out pain free.
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