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Unchained Memories

Page 8

by Dena Blake


  * * *

  Amelia heard the hum coming from Julie’s office as she went down the hallway to see her. She stopped at the doorway and watched Julie move a clothes shaver across her chest.

  “Why don’t you just buy a new sweater?”

  “Because I like this one, and they’re expensive.”

  “Tell me about it. My bank account has seen better days.” Amelia was still miffed about the money situation for Heartstrings House. “Do you have a lint roller?” Julie pulled one from the top drawer of her desk and tossed it to her.

  “Do you need money? I can spot you.” Julie dropped the shaver into her drawer and pulled out her checkbook. Most people in the working class would consider Julie rich. She’d come from old money, but Julie had also saved and invested well. She was always generous and willing to help if Amelia needed something, but after their divorce, Amelia didn’t feel right asking her to fund projects unless she was also kicking something in herself.

  “No. I’m fine.” Amelia had saved and invested her money also, but the Heartstrings House expenses were adding up. First, it was paint, and then it was the furnace, and now the blinds. The new furnace had been a huge expense, and now having to buy essentials for a house she thought was fully funded was putting a strain on her bank account. “I had to buy blinds for the house yesterday.” She ran the lint roller up and down the front of her jacket and then tossed it back to Julie. “The room where the new woman and her niece are living.”

  “Oh. What’s she like? Is she nice?”

  “She seems to be a little high class, spoiled, in fact. I’m kind of wondering why she’s there.”

  “I’m sure she has a reason, or Maxine certainly wouldn’t have sent her your way.”

  “That’s true.” Maxine was an excellent social worker, but she didn’t have time for slackers. Even though they weren’t able to get community housing assistance from the Emergency Solutions Grant program, the house would still be monitored by her as the program manager, and all requirements had to be met in order to have people placed at the house.

  “Did she find her a job?”

  “Yes. Something at the high school. A counseling position, I think.”

  “That will help out with the finances, won’t it?”

  “Maybe a little, but we can’t accept more than forty percent of her monthly income. She has to keep enough to try to get on her feet alone, so it will probably be more like twenty percent to start. That probably won’t be much, considering what the school system here pays.”

  “That makes sense, or people like her wouldn’t need to be there in the first place.” Julie slid both her checkbook and the lint roller back into the desk drawer. “Well, let me know if I can help.”

  “I will.” Amelia turned and headed down the hall to her office.

  Maxine had told her the funds for this month had been delayed, but more would be available soon. When she’d let her take over administering the grant, she’d thought it would be easier and she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. Amelia pulled the Heartstrings Foundation folder from her desk and looked through the pages. If the foundation wasn’t going to fully fund the house, she had to find a way to bring in more money. Donations, fund-raising dinners, she’d even wash cars if she had to. At this point, anything would help.

  Chapter Eight

  Jillian and Darcy climbed up the bleachers and sat in the middle of the top row watching Shane and the rest of the team shoot baskets on the court as they warmed up for the game. Darcy gave her snippets of information about each faculty member as they found their seats in the bleachers below them. Darcy was like Jillian’s own personal version of high school Google. She knew everything about everyone.

  “Mrs. P is okay.” She motioned to Mrs. Patterson sitting in the third row. “She’s a little old-fashioned, so keep your personal life to yourself around her.” She pointed to Mr. Wright, standing on the sideline watching the boys. “Steve’s okay. If you ever need anything, he’s your go-to guy. He’s been at the school forever.”

  Jillian nodded. She’d thought she’d recognized him the other day in the office but hadn’t been able to place him. She shifted her gaze and spotted Amelia coming up the steps. She looked up, caught Jillian’s gaze for a moment, then turned and chose a row halfway up the bleachers below them.

  “That one’s difficult.” Darcy dipped her head toward Amelia.

  “You know her?” Jillian wasn’t sure why she was surprised that Darcy knew Amelia. It made sense. In her line of work, she would have contact with the high school.

  “Amelia Mathews.”

  “Why is she difficult?”

  “She’s super-hot and she’s definitely a giver, if you know what I mean.” Darcy wiggled her eyebrows. “But she stays totally detached, doesn’t let anyone get close. Someone must have really fucked her over.”

  Jillian was a little startled by Darcy’s profanity, yet thoroughly entertained by the way she switched her persona from sweet school secretary to faculty tabloid informer. “You know this how?”

  “I went out with her for close to six months and never once went to her house. It was always my place…or her office.” She winked. “We made good use of that desk of hers.”

  The visual made Jillian’s stomach churn.

  Stan came out of the locker room and clapped his hands, signaling the team off the court. “That man is a complete muscle, always working out. He has huge biceps and hair…” Darcy’s eyes grew wide. “He has hair everywhere, except his head. He even shaves his chest.”

  Jillian had seen him with his shirt off when he was younger. She didn’t remember him being extraordinarily hairy. She tried to shrug the thought off, but she couldn’t stop the image of him from popping up in her head, chest covered with shaving cream, long ape-like arms hanging, and razor in hand. She chuckled at the vision. Those drawings of David’s must be getting to her. Darcy definitely had her wondering if Stan groomed his whole body.

  “So you’ve dated them both?”

  “Stan and I didn’t date.” Jillian scrunched her brows together and waited for Darcy to spill more information, but she just winked.

  “Oh, ohhh.” Jillian surprised herself with the lilt in her voice.

  “I don’t date men, but sometimes I just need a little of something else.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.” She looked back down at Amelia. “I have to admit, I never needed that when I was with her.” She let out a sigh. “Definitely a giver.”

  Jillian was officially on TMI overload. It was enough she had to hear about her escapades with Stan, but to hear the intimate details about her sex life with Amelia put her over the top.

  “This is fun. Talking with you.” Darcy smiled and put her hand on Jillian’s leg. “We should go, uh, have a drink, sometime.”

  “Umm, sure.” Jillian could already tell Darcy would be a good source of information. She seemed to know plenty about everyone, which could be very helpful to Jillian in the future. She had no intention of letting Darcy out of the friend zone, and it was clear she would need to make that known pretty quickly.

  * * *

  The sun had already started to set and the sky to darken slightly when Jillian pulled up in front of the house. Things just weren’t going her way today, but despite it all, the sight of Amelia sitting on the porch swing when she came home made her insides smile.

  “You know you have a brake light out,” Amelia said, using one foot to push the swing in a slow, steady rhythm as Jillian came up the walk. “And you missed dinner.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m late. I got pulled over. Then I went by the Honda dealer to get it fixed, but they don’t have an appointment open until Monday.” She let out a sigh. “I’m pretty inept when it comes to cars.”

  “I can fix it for you.” She put both her feet on the porch and stopped the swing.

  “Really?” Jillian hadn’t even thought to ask Amelia.

  “Sure. Give me your keys. I’ll be right back.
” Jillian handed them to her and watched Amelia walk to her car with determination in her step, her ponytail swinging from side to side. She stopped and yelled over the top before she got in the Honda. “I made you a plate and left it in the kitchen.”

  Jillian stood and watched her drive away. She made me a plate. Who is that woman? She shook her head and went inside, where she found Coop sitting at the table in the kitchen creating what looked like the shopping list for the next week’s dinner menu.

  Coop looked up briefly from the line she was writing. “You’re late.”

  “I know. Long story.” She found the plate of chicken and rice on the counter and put it in the microwave for a minute. “Looks good.”

  “It was. You’re lucky you got any. The boys were hungry tonight.”

  “Thanks for saving me some.” She sat at the table next to Coop.

  “Not me. Amelia.” She glanced up from her list again. “I’m not sure what you’ve done to her, but I like the result.”

  Done to her? “I haven’t done anything. We haven’t spent that much time together.” Something Jillian was unsure she wanted to remedy.

  “Maybe you should think about spending more.” Coop got up from the table and took her bag from the hook inside the pantry door. “She likes you.” Without another word, Coop was out the screen door, letting it slap closed behind her.

  “She likes me?” She likes me. Jillian felt the familiar tingle in her belly and made an effort not to let her mind wander back to the kiss she and Amelia had shared. Instead, she put her mind to work on a new idea for an investigative report, maybe something about women and car repairs. How easy, how difficult, the cost. Energized, she grabbed the pad and pen Coop had been using and jotted down some notes. Her heart thundered in her ears at the thought of this new story. She was totally energized now. She had a new story, and it would be a good one.

  She sat back in her chair and pondered her career. When she’d first started in investigative reporting, the adrenaline rush had come from the sheer terror of being discovered undercover. The edge-of-your-seat feeling she’d experienced for the better part of a year when she’d first embarked on the journey had been terrifying. Over the years, the rush had turned sweet and somehow rewarding. She savored the feeling now. It was incredible to have her image plastered all over TV and still be able to go unnoticed in the middle of hundreds of people, so much so that she couldn’t wait for the next story to feel the thrill again.

  Jillian finished her dinner and cleared her plate before she tucked her notes into her pocket and went outside to see if Amelia was back. She was there, at the curb, with the hatchback of Jillian’s car up, her ponytail moving with the wind. She trotted down the stairs to see how Amelia was doing and made it just in time for her to pull the hatchback down and slam it closed. “No luck?”

  “It’s done.” She held up the bad bulb.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “It was under ten. I got it.”

  “Wow. I guess I should’ve come to you first.”

  “I’m always willing to help with a fixer-upper.” She gave her a wink as she walked past her, and Jillian’s cheeks warmed as she remembered their conversation about the car and their steaming-hot kiss.

  “Are you going to the school dance tonight?” Jillian asked, prompting Amelia to stop, turn around, and pull her brows together. “I’m chaperoning.”

  Their eyes connected, and Amelia seemed caught in thought for a moment before she said, “Oh. That’s not really my thing, but you have fun.”

  Jillian caught up with her at the screen door. Amelia opened it and let Jillian enter before her. “Well, I have to get ready, but thanks again,” she said, turning back before she headed up the steps.

  * * *

  Amelia walked into the kitchen trying to erase the vision of JJ standing in front of her outside in the evening dusk. The gusts of wind had moved her hair gently from her neck as she stood, so beautifully innocent, waiting for an answer. Such a beautiful neck. She flipped on the water, took the soap from the sink, and scrubbed her hands before dousing her face. Amelia was in trouble with this one. Sneaking looks whenever she could, making mindless conversation. She’d even left work early today because she wanted to see her. Amelia didn’t know why she wanted to be close to JJ, but the desire was overwhelming. Time to flip the control switch back her way. She pushed through the back door, dropped down into a chair, and closed her eyes.

  Blake’s voice broke the silence. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Just tired.”

  “Oh. You going to the dance?”

  “Not this one.”

  “Who’s gonna help me check the punch?” he said lightly.

  “JJ’s going. Ask her.” The words came out stronger than she expected, and Blake pulled his brows together. She knew he had more questions but wouldn’t ask. The two of them had always kept clear borders about sharing.

  “Okay then. I have to change. I’ll see you when I get home?” He shot her a hopeful smile.

  “Maybe.” She pushed her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. It would be the first dance she’d missed since David had entered middle school. She felt a little sad at the thought of staying home, but she needed some space from JJ tonight. Accompanying her to a low-lit gym with music wasn’t a good idea, even if it was a high school dance. It was probably time to let David go solo, anyway.

  * * *

  David straightened the collar of his polo shirt as he came down the stairs. “Can I borrow your car tonight, Aunt Amelia?”

  Jillian heard Amelia’s response from over her shoulder. “To the dance and back, Dave.” Amelia crossed the room and straightened his already straightened collar before she took her keys out of her pocket. “Home before eleven, right?” she said as she dropped them into his hand.

  “Right.” He gave her a big grin. “Thanks,” he said as he took off out the front door.

  Jillian diverted her attention to the TV when Amelia passed on her way to the kitchen. No eye contact. It was safer that way. Abby had been in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes getting ready, so Jillian had opted to come downstairs and wait for her on the couch. Spring Fling, the last dance of the year before prom, and since Abby wasn’t going to prom, Jillian knew she was looking forward to tonight. She’d helped Abby pick out the cute floral-pattern dress, which wasn’t easy. They had very different ideas of what she should wear. In the end, they’d compromised and were both happy with the dress. It had good coverage up top and landed just above her knees. Abby had the body of a woman but the maturity of a girl. A dangerous mix at a high school dance. Jillian wasn’t expecting the sight she saw when Abby came down the stairs. She’d put on mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick, and it was like looking at her sister minus fifteen years.

  “You’re not going to let her go to the dance like that, are you?” Amelia’s voice of disapproval resonated through the living room as she came out of the kitchen. “You need to go back upstairs and take off that makeup.” Amelia waved her hand toward the stairs.

  Jillian popped up off the couch. “Hold on a minute. Since when do you get to tell my niece what to do?”

  “Since I know how boys react to fifteen-year-old girls who look like they’re nineteen.”

  “She’ll be fine. I’ll be there to watch out for her.”

  “JJ, you have to be kidding.” Amelia took a stance and propped her hands on her hips. “Do you have any idea what can happen in the time it takes you to walk across the gym looking for her?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Jillian said, and Amelia raised an eyebrow.

  Jillian could see Amelia was holding back an observation on her parenting technique. She took in a deep breath as her emotions battled within, the attraction and irritation competing in a razor-sharp duel. “You just let David walk out of here with the keys to your Camaro. Do you know what can happen in an hour in the backseat of a Camaro? How those actions can change a life forever?” Thoughts
of her sister’s experience flew through Jillian’s mind.

  Amelia eyed her strangely. “I’m aware. The new models don’t have near enough room in the backseat for any of that.”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Jillian gave her a tight-lipped smile and kept her mouth shut, holding at bay the rest of the words she wanted to spew back. Amelia was not going to make her lose her composure in front of Abby. “Come on, Abby. Let’s go.” She opened the door, motioning Abby in front of her. “Don’t wait up.” She narrowed her eyes at Amelia and followed Abby out to the car. What did I ever see in that woman?

  “Do you think I have too much makeup on, Aunt JJ?” Abby said as she got into the car.

  “Maybe a tad too much eyeshadow.” She reached over and squeezed Abby’s hand. “We can fix that before we go in.”

  “My mom never let me wear any makeup.”

  “Then maybe we should just start with a little mascara,” Jillian said, second-guessing her decision to let her wear makeup. She hadn’t even thought about what Jamie would say. “You’re a beautiful girl. You don’t need much more than that.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?”

  “Of course I do, but what I think doesn’t matter.” She rounded the last corner to the school. “What do you think?”

  “I think a whole lot of girls at this school are prettier than me.”

  Jillian pulled into the faculty parking lot and put the car in park. “Maybe, but as long as you’re happy with who you are, that shouldn’t matter.” She took off her seat belt and shifted to face Abby. “Now close your eyes and let’s see about that eyeshadow.” She pulled a tissue from her bag and stroked it lightly over Abby’s eyelids, wiping away all but a tinge of the glittery eyeshadow Abby had applied. “Now the lips.” She handed Abby a tissue, and she wiped off the lipstick. Jillian reached into her purse and took a tube of clear lip gloss. “I think you should stick with this for the time being, okay?”

 

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