Amarie snapped the picture. She held her phone out so that Char could see the result too. “Oh, wait.”
“What?” Char asked, peering at the screen.
“I get my emails in batches throughout the day, that way my phone isn’t always going off. These must’ve come in while we were in the hospital.” She opened the email app.
Yawning, Char watched the emails load with her. “Anything important?”
“Probably not,” Amarie said. “I try to keep it all neat—Oh.” Her finger hovered over an email. “The daycare already got back to me.”
Char hugged her gently, mindful of her kidneys. Though her girl didn’t seem to be in pain, she didn’t want to be the cause of it. “That was fast! They must be pretty impressed by your resume, and want you to come in for an interview.”
“Probably not.” Amarie tapped a finger against the side of her phone. “They probably already filled the position and sent me a sympathy email. I should just delete it, right?”
“No way. For all you know, they liked your resume.” She lifted one of Amarie’s hands and pressed her lips to the soft brown skin. “Let’s see what they said.”
Ultimately, Char reflected, the decision was up to Amarie. She hated to see her girl just give up, though—especially after the day she’d had. She relaxed her embrace around Amarie, giving her to option to get up and read the email elsewhere, if she wanted to.
Amarie remained on her lap, though. “All right.” She tapped the email open.
Char held her breath, hoping that she hadn’t been wrong to encourage Amarie. If it was bad news, she was going to feel awful.
“That was fast,” Amarie muttered.
Shoulders slumping, Char leaned forward. “What did they say?” Amarie had probably been right. They’d probably already hired someone. She mentally kicked herself for getting her girl’s hopes up. She needed to learn to keep her big mouth shut.
“They want to know when I can come in for an interview,” Amarie said. “Actually, they want me to come in next week.”
“That’s great!” Char hugged her close.
“Yeah, it is.” Amarie bit her lip.
“What’s wrong?” There was a phrase that Char’s mom used once in a while—something about borrowing trouble. “Is anxiety being an asshole right now?”
Amarie sighed. “Yes. I just realized that I’ll probably have my kidney doctor appointment next week, and I have a rheumatology follow-up coming. I just don’t know how I’m going to juggle all of this. Like, before, when it was just an autoimmune disease, it was already a full-time job.” She turned in Char’s lap and rested her forehead on Char’s shoulder.
“I know it.” Char rubbed her palm in circles across Amarie’s back. She wished she had the right words that would help Amarie. They wasn’t much she could say, though. In the divine comedy that was life, Amarie had been dealt a crap hand. All either of them could do was try to make the best with what they had.
Still, she wished she could make things better for Amarie.
“Well, I guess you could email them back and take the interview, then work the doctor appointment around that,” she suggested.
“Yeah.” Amarie’s shoulders lifted and fell as she inhaled deeply and then exhaled. “I just don’t know if I can keep driving back and forth to New York freaking City. It’s killing me in gas, and if I do by some chance have a Lupus kidney thing going on . . . It looks like I’m gonna have a lot of doctor’s appointments from here on out. As if I didn’t already have enough,” she muttered. “What if I get hired and then have to quit because I can’t do it?”
Char bit her lip. If she had a regular, steady job rather than following her silly heart and becoming a partner in a business that she couldn’t guarantee, she could tell Amarie not to worry. She could take care of their bills while Amarie got her illness taken care of. She hadn’t even thought of that, though, when she’d pitched her idea to Rowan and Matt. As she continued to rub Amarie’s back, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
Chapter 29
“We might need a second bathroom,” Amarie remarked to Char. She leaned over her girl and applied mascara while Char cleaned up her eyebrows. Bright morning sunlight slanted into the bathroom through the skylight window—the only time the room ever got enough light.
“Every day won’t be like this.” Char put down her tweezers. She sprayed a finger with hairspray, then smoothed down the stray hairs of her eyebrows. “You’ll be going into work at the daycare early, and I’ll be going . . . earlier.” She grimaced.
“That’s if I get the job,” Amarie said. Finished with her makeup, she turned and tapped Char’s nose with the pad of her finger. “I’m sorry you have to give up your teenager hours.”
Char stuck out her tongue. “They’re not teenager hours.”
“Watch out,” Amarie said, pinning her against the sink. “I might take that tongue.”
“Oh yeah?”
She wrapped her arms around Char, her hands cupping her ass. Her still swollen hands kneaded the rounded flesh, appreciating the way it curved into Char’s thighs. She sighed contentedly.
Char kissed her with wet parted lips. “Don’t you have to leave?” she asked between kisses.
Unfortunately she did—if she wanted to get the job. She released Char, drawing her lips into a pout.
“Cheer up,” Char said. “We always have later.”
“We do.” Kissing Char one more time, she left the bathroom. She grabbed her white trench coat—the only designer coat she had, that she used only for special occasions. It’d been expensive, even for a Marshall’s find. The coat was an instant confidence boost, though, so it’d been worth it.
“See you later!” she called as she grabbed her briefcase and hustled out the door.
“Good luck!” she heard Char call back.
She drove to the daycare in under ten minutes. It was on the other side of her tiny town—no farther than the school she’d been a temp at. Everything in Watertown was a hop, skip, or jump away. It was so small, she and Neve had often joked that they could probably toss a ball back and forth.
Yet she loved it. Her parents had bought their house off Gurnseytown Road not long after she’d finished high school, and she could see herself staying in the town throughout her own adulthood.
With Char by her side.
She shut the Hyundai off and quieted her breathing while the cooling engine ticked. If she didn’t get the job, she told herself, it didn’t mean anything. She would keep trying. And if they had a problem with her needing frequent time off for doctor’s appointments, she would keep looking.
Amarie slid out of the car, admiring the way the fall breeze blew the trench coat around her calves. She smoothed her black A-line skirt, checked her knee-high boots for scuffs, and made sure her sapphire blouse was buttoned properly. Then she strode toward the door, head high.
Echo Childcare LLC was a squat, brick building, its exterior painted to look like an ocean. A swimming dolphin was painted on one side. Amarie pressed the buzzer next to the intercom.
“Good morning,” a friendly voice called. “How can I help you?”
“Good morning. I’m here for an interview with Valentina. My name is Amarie Locke.” She straightened in front of the camera that eyed her, to make herself appear as professional as possible.
“One moment.”
A buzz sounded and something clicked in the door. Amarie pulled it open and hurried inside before it locked again.
The interior looked nothing like what she’d expected. She stood in a lobby that connected to one large room, with several smaller rooms lining it on the perimeter. A desk stood to her left in the lobby. The lobby used the same pastel ocean colors from the outside paint for its interior palette. Large paper seashells lined the walls with children’s names written on them, and an aquarium stood opposite the desk.
The receptionist smiled at her. “Ms. Locke?”
“Yes.” Amarie took a step toward the des
k, but the receptionist pointed toward the farthest room.
“Valentina’s office is all the way on that side,” the receptionist said. “She’s expecting you.”
“Thanks.” Amarie eased through the large room, which held a number of tables that served as stations. At the moment, the children sat in a circle off to the side while one of their teachers read to them. The setup reminded her of every pre-school she’d ever seen, but the wide open space made it seem less like a school and more like a museum. As she headed toward Valentina’s office, she noticed the other rooms served as more intimate teaching spaces. One was marked Reading Room, another Quiet Room, and a third was marked Birth to Three. It seemed like, with so many teachers on hand, Echo Childcare’s students got much more individual hands-on attention.
She stopped at Valentina’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Amarie stepped inside. “Hi, Valentina. I’m your ten o’ clock.” She smiled and held out her hand.
Valentina shook with her. “Oh, honey, you’re my only interview today. I think my standards are too high.” She sat, motioning for Amarie to sit too.
Amarie’s heart sank as she eased into a chair. There was no way that Valentina was going to hire someone whose attendance was as unpredictable as hers.
“I loved your resume,” Valentina said. She thumbed through a folder on her desk. “Y tu habla Español. It’s a no-brainer, but I had to have you come in as a formality.”
“Well, thank you,” Amarie said, “but I should tell you I have some medical issues.” She clasped her shaking hands in her lap.
Valentina lifted an eyebrow. “¿Eres Domicana? Yo soy Cubana. We Latinas gotta stick together—especially in this super white town. Right?”
Amarie nodded. “Definitely. I just thought you should know I might need a lot of time off.” She swallowed, the words like sludge in her mouth.
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m looking for a good teacher and that’s what it looks like I’m getting.” Valentina tapped her resume. “The job is full-time, salary. I offer sick time, vacation time, and health insurance. It’s important to me because my other teachers are mothers. ¿Tiene hijos, Amarie?”
She shook her head.
“I had my kids young,” Valentina said. “I worked all kinds of jobs and none of my bosses understood why I had to leave early when my kids got sick or hurt. They were all men, of course.” She rolled her eyes. Then she straightened, fixing Amarie with a sincere gaze. “I don’t need to know the details of your illness, but you need to know that I understand shit happens. I just have a few questions I have to ask—as a formality.”
Nodding, Amarie straightened in her seat.
“I see in your resume that you recently finished your degree and worked a temporary job in a Watertown school.”
Amarie winced, but Valentina held up a hand.
“That’s actually a good thing. You can bring us a fresh perspective. Tell me: what did you love most about your temp job?”
She didn’t even need to think about it. “Seeing that moment when things clicked for my students,” Amarie said. “When I gave them a lesson and their eyes lit up because they got it.”
“That’s my favorite part about teaching, too,” Valentina said. “What do you think are some of your weaknesses in teaching?”
“Sometimes I forget that part of my job is letting my students teach me. Meaning I need to be mindful of how they learn, pay attention to what isn’t working, and try to work with their individual learning processes.”
Valentina nodded. “We have a smaller teacher-to-child ratio here, and what you just described is not only important to us, but more possible here than it is in a public school. If you want this job, it’s yours.” She held out a hand.
For a moment, Amarie just stared at Valentina’s offered hand. It was hard to believe that anyone could understand what it was like to have an unpredictable body. And maybe Valentina couldn’t. At some point, though, she had to take a chance—to leap into her life without being terrified of getting fired from her dream job. If she couldn’t take Valentina’s offer, then she could never expect to make even bolder commitments, like getting married to Char or building a family with her.
Her mother’s words repeated in her head—well, okay, they were John Lennon’s: life was what happened while you made other plans. She was done letting life pass her by. Whatever happened next, she wasn’t going to let her illness stop her from living—even if that meant taking frequent naps or self-care days. If Valentina turned out to be unable to understand that, well, she’d figure something else out.
She always did.
With her chin held high, Amarie shook Valentina’s hand.
Epilogue
The past five months had been a blur, Char mused as she placed the last deviled egg on its decorative platter. Her girl more than deserved the party she’d been planning for weeks and weeks—especially considering how disastrous her previous birthday had been.
She checked the other appetizers, making sure the Sterno cans that kept her hot foods hot were still burning.
“T minus ten minutes,” Matt announced.
She straightened, accidentally bumping into Rowan. “Hey partner.”
“Hey.” Rowan bumped her hip into Char’s. “Are you ready for our grand re-opening slash birthday bonanza?”
She nodded. It was hard to believe that Elli’s had been closed since the beginning of January while they did some remodeling. It was even harder to believe that both Rowan and Matt had been so willing to bring her into their successful business. Rowan had even thrown in some of her inheritance when the grants that Charlotte got didn’t quite cover everything. Part of her worried that the new menu they’d created would bring it all crashing down.
Without Elli’s, they were all screwed.
“It’s going to be great,” Rowan reassured her. “We already have a catering gig, by the way.”
“Really?” Charlotte gaped at her.
“Yep. Echo Childcare asked us to cater their parents’ night.” Rowan grinned. “They’re also going to send flyers home with every child, introducing our new birthday tea party package.”
“This is brilliant.” Char slung an arm around her.
“Together, we’re an unstoppable force.” Rowan hugged her back. “Oh! I wanted to show you something.”
Char followed her back to the kitchen. One of the stainless steel counters was full of trays holding beverages. The tall glasses were full of liquid in different seaside shades, their rims coated with sprinkles. Whipped cream and polka dot straws topped them off. “These are pretty,” she told Rowan.
“Since Amarie can’t drink because of her kidneys, I made non-alcoholic milkshakes. Besides, we don’t have a liquor license.”
Char hugged her. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” In November, Amarie’s rheumatologist had told her that she was more than likely developing Lupus, and she was under close surveillance. There was a long list of foods that she had to avoid to keep her kidneys safe.
“Oh, just wait.” Rowan took Char’s shoulders and turned her toward the other counter, where a cake decorated with fondant fish arranged in the Pisces symbol.
Tears sprang to Char’s eyes. “She’s going to love this. How? You!” She hugged Rowan again. “Thank you.”
“It’s not much, but I wanted to do something for you two. You guys have had a hell of a year.”
Char nodded in agreement. That was an understatement. She was determined, though, to stay positive. Since they’d made it through the last twelve months, they could make it through anything, she mused.
“T minus fifteen minutes!” Matt called.
“Is he just yelling out random times?” Char asked.
“I think so.”
Char checked her phone. Amarie’s work day had technically ended at eight o’clock, but she’d be going home first. Then she would find Char’s note asking her to meet at Elli’s. Char tingled with e
xcitement. “I think we’re still at least ten minutes out.”
Neve strolled into the kitchen, an Elli’s latte in her hand. “Good job, Char,” she said. “This is seriously the best white chocolate mocha I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks,” she said, “but Ro actually made that one.”
“Yeah, I’m finally getting over my fear of the steamer thing,” Rowan said.
Neve held it up in salute. “I’m so glad I’m actually here.”
“Amarie will be thrilled,” Char agreed. “She says all the time how much she misses you.”
Neve pouted. “I miss her too. Being an intern is a bitch. I’m lucky I got tonight off. I’ve got scut for a month to make up for this.”
Rowan nodded sympathetically.
“Oh no,” Neve said. “You have no idea. It’s so much worse in real life than it is on Grey’s Anatomy.”
“T minus two minutes!” Matt yelled.
Char rolled her eyes, smiling. “You’ve got to stop faking us out!”
“I can’t help it,” he called back.
“I guess we’d better move back up front,” she said, glancing longingly at the two ranges they’d added to the kitchen. They were all hers, in all of their gleaming stainless steel glory. She couldn’t wait to really get to work. They weren’t actually open to the public until Tuesday, though Rowan had another cake order to deliver over the weekend.
Elli’s was definitely growing, and Char was thrilled to be part of it. She thought Rowan’s aunt Katherine would be proud of the direction they were taking the little bakery in.
“T minus now!” Matt shouted.
“Seriously, if you don’t cut that out, I’m throwing a knife at you,” she said.
“I’m serious. She just pulled in!”
Char rushed to the front window. Amarie’s blue Hyundai slid into the only free spot in the parking lot. She groaned. She should’ve had everyone park somewhere else. Her girl was going to realize something was up, considering all of the cars in the parking lot. Oh well. There was no going back. “Get ready, everyone.”
Any Other Love Page 24