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Amy walked into her cozy living room, unceremoniously dumping her bags on the ground. The black duffle bag that landed on the hardwood floor contained her “work” clothes—jeans and a tee shirt with the name of the preschool written on it. Although they were casual, they weren’t exactly something she’d go for a run in.
The tote bag landed on the bold-print area rug she’d painstakingly hunted for. Amy had been thrilled when she’d been able to purchase her own home several years earlier, and she’d spent hours searching online and in all the local stores to find the perfect furniture and accents for her space.
The walls were adorned with her own artwork—bold, modern abstracts in colorful patterns as well as a few more subdued pieces, including one of a graceful ballet dancer. The pieces were large, and took up much of the wall space, but they matched perfectly with the rest of her décor. She’d hung the drapes high above the windows, giving the room a much larger feel, and with the chic accents she’d placed throughout, Amy could almost envision that she was walking into her own personal art gallery.
Someday, she promised herself. Someday.
The spare bedroom/office/art studio was where she painted. The room had a daybed and desk as well as easels and a large storage cabinet for all of her supplies.
A sudden thump sent her jumping in surprise, and she looked over to see colorful construction paper and stencils in the shapes of leaves, pumpkins, and apples spilling from her overfilled tote bag.
She bent down to gather up the supplies when her cell phone began vibrating in her purse. She pulled it out to see three missed calls from her best friend, Melissa. Frowning as she swiped the screen, she quickly answered it.
“You won’t believe it!” Melissa sobbed into the phone.
“What’s wrong? Melissa? Are you okay?”
“He broke up with me!” Melissa shrieked hysterically.
“What?!” The papers Amy was holding slowly fluttered back to the floor. “Are you serious?”
“The wedding is two months away,” Melissa continued. “TWO.”
“What?” Amy repeated, still in shock.
“You heard me right—it’s over.”
“I can’t believe it—that doesn’t even make any sense. Did he say why? Maybe he just has cold feet...,” Amy hedged.
“Cold feet. Right. He said he realized that he’s not ready to settle down. He’s thirty-two for God’s sake! I mean it’s not like we’re college students or something. We’ve been together for three years. THREE years. He proposed to me!”
“What a jerk,” Amy said, sinking down onto the sofa.
Melissa and Michael had seemed like the perfect couple. They had been practically inseparable when they first began dating. Michael was a Marine stationed nearby in Quantico, Virginia. He’d frequently driven up to their neighboring town to see Melissa, and although Amy knew it was hard on both of them during his year-long deployment to Afghanistan, she thought they’d been happily planning their wedding—or at least Melissa had been happily planning it.
“It’s unbelievable. Un-FREAK-ing believable. I mean, I just talked to his mom the other day about floral arrangements. Floral arrangements! She had some great ideas, actually,” Melissa interjected, sniffling. “But now this? After everything we’ve been through, it’s just OVER?”
“What happened?”
“We were supposed to meet with the caterer today—to finalize the menu, go over the head count. Anyway, Michael came over to my place to pick me up. He’s been working the late shift down at Quantico, so I hadn’t seen him since Sunday. It’s not a big deal though—I’ve gotten used to his crazy schedule. Anyway, as soon as he got here, I knew something was wrong. His face was all stiff and serious, his body language was off—he didn’t even kiss me hello!”
“So, I take it you never made it to the caterer?”
“Nope. He gave me the whole, ‘Sit down, we need to talk,’ thing.”
“Let me guess. ‘It’s not you, it’s me?’”
“Exactly. I mean, I get that it was hard when he was gone last year. I get it—I was living it. But he came back, we readjusted, and everything’s been great. We’ve been planning the wedding, looking at houses, making plans for the future....”
“You’re not pregnant are you?”
“Of course not!”
“All right, calm down. I just wondered if something completely freaked him out.”
“Apparently the idea of marriage was enough to do that all on its own. He said he’s been feeling unsure ever since he’s been back.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, you’d think he could have mentioned it. We could’ve postponed the wedding or talked about it, not acted like everything was all lovey-dovey and perfect as we planned it and continued our march to the altar.”
“Maybe he didn’t know,” Amy said gently. “I mean, let’s try to look at this in a different light. At least he didn’t literally leave you at the altar. Wouldn’t that have been a million times worse?”
She heard Melissa sigh on the other end of the line.
“Want to come over? I just got back from a run. I’ll jump in the shower, and by the time you get here we can have leftover lasagna and a bottle of red.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“At least come over for a little while. I’m sure you could use a distraction right now.”
“Could I ever. I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon.”
“Sorry. I left my cell phone in the car when I was jogging.”
“In the car?”
“Yeah, I went for a jog on the hiking trail.”
“Well, you should bring your phone,” Melissa sniffed. “What if you get attacked by a bear or something?”
“A bear?” Amy asked, trying not to smile. “In the middle of broad daylight?”
“You never know. Anyway, I wondered where you had disappeared off to.” She sniffled again, and Amy was relieved that although Melissa was still upset, she wasn’t sobbing as she had been when she first called. “I’ll head over in a few minutes. See you in thirty?”
“Sounds perfect. See you then.”
***
“Men really suck,” Melissa muttered an hour later, pouring herself a second glass of wine. She set the bottle back down on the kitchen table, which Amy had already set for dinner. “I mean first, Ben dumps you—” Melissa continued.
“Well, technically I dumped Ben; he just got over me really quickly,” Amy interrupted, walking over to pull the lasagna she was reheating from the oven.
“I still don’t know why you broke up with him. But he started dating that other woman like a minute later, so it was practically like he dumped you. Besides, who gets engaged to someone they just met?”
“Great, that makes me feel so much better,” Amy countered, carrying the steaming hot tray over to the table. She grabbed a serving spoon and scooped them each a slice of mouth-watering lasagna. “Things were getting more serious between us, but it’s not like he proposed to me. Then a few weeks after he started dating that other woman? Suddenly he’s out buying wedding rings.”
“Maybe they’ll break up and call off the wedding. It happens I hear,” she added sarcastically.
“I’m sorry, hun,” Amy said.
Melissa flipped her sleek red hair back over her shoulders and sighed. With the splotches of red across her pale, porcelain skin—not to mention puffy eyes—it was quite obvious that she’d spent the afternoon crying.
Amy could tell that she was in a mood to rant and rave, not to have Amy gently disagree with everything she said, attempting to be the voice of reason. Melissa often said that Amy obviously must have the patience of a saint in order to deal with preschoolers all day long.
Melissa was a real estate agent and used to being aggressive to attract new clients and close the deal. She definitely wasn’t used to being around young children, even though she’d looked forward to starting a family one day with her now ex-fiancé.
And she’d spent the last ten minutes—and first glass of wine—complaining, Amy had subtly tried to change the topic and calm her down. Not that her friend didn’t have every right to be upset, but she was hoping to cheer her up even a little bit.
“Well, it should make you feel better! Ben was obviously a jackass if he got over you that quickly. Just like Michael is a complete bastard. Maybe we both dodged a bullet.”
Amy picked up her own glass of wine. “I really don’t get Michael at all,” she said, taking a sip of Shiraz. “Has he tried calling you? Maybe he’ll come to his senses and change his mind.”
“Please. He’s probably out drinking with his Marine buddies tonight, picking up some new girl already—after all, he doesn’t want to be tied down.”
“I thought you said he worked the late shift,” Amy said.
“Well, he’ll be out there this weekend. The guy didn’t even shed a single tear. And there I was, sitting there sobbing on my sofa like some teenager who’d just gotten dumped by her first boyfriend.”
“He did really love you. He asked you to marry him! Maybe he just needs some time? Or got cold feet?”
“Pfffffft,” Melissa said, expressing her distaste in that idea. “Michael had his chance. He had the girl, bought the ring, set the date.... It’s over.”
“So no second chances?”
“We broke up. Finito. Finished. Over.”
Amy eyed the wine bottle and wondered if her friend had poured even more when she wasn’t looking. She didn’t blame her for needing an extra glass or two tonight.
“Anyway. I saw that hottie across the street when I was coming in,” Melissa said abruptly. She let out a long whistle, and Amy laughed in surprise.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“The Marine that lives across the street from you. I don’t know his name. But I saw him jogging by when I pulled up—bulging biceps, a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve, broad chest, strong legs....” She eyed Amy wickedly.
“You mean Jason? You just broke up with someone!”
“I was just dumped by someone. But I didn’t mean for me. I was thinking more along the lines that you haven’t dated anyone in a while. Sex with the ex is always a mistake, but what about a fling with the hot neighbor instead?”
“Jason? He’s way too old for me. And that’s really weird; I’ve never seen him out jogging before. I go running all the time.” Amy looked puzzled as she contemplated this new piece of information.
“He’s what? Ten years older than us?” Amy’s attention snapped back to her friend. “That is hardly too old. Ten years is nothing. And look at it this way—he’s also got ten more years of experience.”
“Experience?” Amy asked, somehow sensing where Melissa was going with this.
“Experience.”
“Was Michael lacking in that area?”
“Of course not! Michael was amazing in bed. A-MAZE-ing! But I was thinking more for you.”
Amy burst out laughing. “Great. I’ve been upset about Ben getting engaged all this time, and my new lover could very well have been just out my front door.”
“Just across the street. I like your way of thinking,” Melissa said with a grin, spilling some of her wine on the table as she excitedly picked up her glass again.
“I was being sarcastic! And I think it’s time I cut you off,” Amy said, taking the second bottle they’d opened away. She’d had two glasses compared to Melissa’s...four? Five? Who was counting? “Ex-fiancé or not,” she continued, “we still have to get to work in the morning.”
“Oh, I don’t have to be in until ten,” Melissa said carelessly.
“Lucky you. I’ve got a roomful of kids coming at nine—and I have to get there early and be ready for them.”
“All right, whatever. I’ll hang out here and watch some reality TV with you while you do your crafty stuff. That new dating show is on tonight. Maybe I should sign up.”
Amy laughed as she cleared their plates away. Melissa had called her sobbing only several hours ago and was now checking out the men who lived on her street and talking about signing up for a dating show.
She knew Melissa’s newfound cheerfulness was only the wine talking though—her friend would be upset again tomorrow, once the reality of her situation set in, and they’d have to deal with cancelling the wedding. Amy had just picked up her bridesmaid’s dress two weeks ago and wondered if she could return it since it hadn’t been altered yet.
She sighed, wondering what on earth had gotten into Michael. One thing was for certain: their upcoming girl’s weekend away with friends couldn’t get here soon enough.
