Amanda sat on Doug’s deck on Wednesday night, wondering what had gotten into her. He’d invited her over for dinner a couple of times since he’d threatened to do so on her birthday, but she’d managed to come up with excuses on both occasions. When he’d asked again on Monday, however, she’d accepted without hesitation. She didn’t know if her change of heart was due to newly found courage after the overall success of her outing at the fair with Joyce or to the building desire to get this mandatory dinner over with, but here she was, eating veggie burgers with Doug and his family.
Fortunately, Doug’s wife was a real word-mill. She never stopped talking and she didn’t seem to care if anyone listened. It made it easy on Amanda; all she needed to do was nod or insert a simple “mhm” once in a while to keep the monologue going. She thought that quality of Susan’s was most likely one of the reasons Doug had married her. She freed him from having to make conversation ever again in his whole life. Smart man, she mused.
But as she listened to Susan she had to admit her qualities weren’t limited to her verbosity. She was also a very attractive petite woman with beautiful blue eyes and blond hair. Most importantly the abundant words coming out of her mouth betrayed nothing but kindness and generosity. She didn’t talk to complain about people or judge them as it was often the case with women who talked that much. She talked about the poverty of the families she worked with as a social worker and the obstacles they lived through every single day. She talked about social issues and ways to overcome them. Her speech was engaging, admirable, and Amanda felt better about her own soul just listening to her.
As a result, an evening Amanda had been dreading was turning out to be surprisingly enjoyable. Which is why she seriously considered making her escape when Susan received an unexpected call and had to excuse herself due to a work emergency. Before leaving, she asked Doug to serve dessert and ordered them to keep enjoying the evening without her. As she prepared to make her excuses, Noah spoke up.
“Mom made strawberry shortcake.”
It was the first time Amanda had heard the boy’s voice. She wondered if he appreciated his mother’s nonstop talking as much as she and Doug did. Probably not, she figured.
“Strawberry shortcake is my favorite,” she said to the boy who smiled with pride. He had his mother’s smile. He also had his mother’s blond hair, but the blue of his eyes was the same aquamarine as his father’s. He’d break hearts for sure.
“Good, I’ll go get it, then,” Doug announced before he disappeared inside the bungalow. Amanda had seen the house only briefly before being escorted to the back deck with a cold beer, but the little she’d seen had been enough to show her that though modest it was warm and cozy. The kitchen hadn’t been updated in at least twenty years. The beige couch dividing the living room from the dining room looked like it was from the same era. So did the huge TV set and the green carpet. Everything seemed clean and in its place, but the couple obviously didn’t care about showing off the latest decor and technological advancements.
Doug came back with dessert and three plates and started serving the cake.
“You’ll see. My mom’s is the best strawberry shortcake ever,” Noah said before he attacked his large portion.
“I don’t doubt it,” Amanda said with a chuckle before she took a smaller bite of her own cake. “Wow. You were not kidding. It’s really yummy.”
“Told you so,” the boy replied with a smile, a dollop of whipped cream on his chin. Amanda glanced at Doug’s plate and wasn’t surprised to see mostly strawberries covering a thin slice of cake. He ate in silence, letting his son replace his wife as the conversationalist of the house. The situation was somewhat awkward but she enjoyed Noah’s enthusiasm. “We’re going to the fair this weekend to see the demolition derby. Do you like the demolition derby, Amanda?”
“Ouch, that sounds a little noisy. I think I’ll stick to the cows.”
“There are plenty of those too, you know. And horses. And tractors! Do you like tractors?”
“Yeah, tractors are awesome,” she said to please the boy. His smile made her smile automatically. “There are really big ones, you’ll see. I was there last weekend.”
“You were? But Dad said you don’t have kids.”
Doug shifted position in his chair and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with his son’s revelation, as if the fact that she didn’t have kids was a big secret. “The fair is not only for kids, Noah.”
“Did you go alone?” Noah asked, apparently unable to imagine Amanda at the fair for some reason.
“I went with a friend.”
“A friend? But Dad said you don’t have friends.” This time Doug blushed with embarrassment, the red on his face deepening as Amanda burst out in laughter.
“Your dad’s right. I don’t have many friends because I’m new in Bangor. But I went to the fair with a new friend,” she explained to Noah before she turned to Doug. “Joyce Allen. It was her way to thank me for taking care of Dingo. It was a nice gesture.”
“Is Dingo a cat?” Noah asked, demanding Amanda’s attention back before she could see Doug’s reaction. She hadn’t thought going out with a client might be an issue until she’d heard herself mention her outing with Joyce to Doug.
“A dog.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He hurt his leg and he needs bandages for a while, but he’ll get better.”
“Because you fixed him?”
“That’s right, in a way,” Amanda said with a smile.
“You and my dad are heroes,” Noah announced before pushing a large piece of cake into his mouth with his fork. By now whipped cream had made it to his nose.
“If you say so,” Amanda said with a giggle as she turned back to Doug, who looked lost in his thoughts. “Is it a problem, Doug?”
He opened his eyes wide and turned to her as if she’d awakened him from a deep sleep. “Huh? What?”
“That I went to the fair with Ms. Allen. Is that a problem?”
“Oh that? No, no, of course not. It’s just…”
“What is it, Doug?”
He stared at the strawberries on his plate for what seemed like hours before he finally answered, “I’m surprised you could be friends with a woman like Joyce Allen, that’s all.” Before Amanda could ask him to explain, he turned to Noah, who’d finished his dessert. “Take your empty plate to the sink and go wash your face, all right? You look like a snowman with whipped cream all over your face like that.” Noah laughed at his father’s analogy and obeyed, leaving the table with his plate and taking it inside the house. “Sorry, I didn’t want him to hear what I’m going to say next. Kids repeat everything, you know.”
“I’ve heard,” Amanda agreed, wondering what Doug had to say. She’d never heard him say anything negative about anyone so it had to be important. “So why are you so surprised I could be friends with Joyce Allen?”
“I’m not here to choose your friends, Amanda. Let me be clear on that first and foremost. But I think you should be careful with a woman like Joyce Allen.”
“Okay, but why? Not because she’s gay, I hope, because…”
“God no,” he interrupted. “I hope you know me better than that. I couldn’t care less about Joyce Allen’s sexuality. Or yours, for that matter,” he added before he cleared his throat nervously.
Amanda felt her face heat up, flustered. Doug was apparently a lot more perceptive than she would have guessed. “Good. That’s a relief. But what is it then?”
Doug sighed, still hesitant to reveal the information he had, yet evidently wanting to share it with Amanda. He started at last, focused on his plate as he spoke softly to make sure Noah wouldn’t hear.
“I sat on a charity committee with Joyce Allen a few years ago. She was there with her wife, Evelyn Graham, and her sister, Barbara Nichols. It was my first charity committee without Susan—she can’t say yes to all of them or she’d never be home—and let’s say they made my experience hell. I’d never met three women with a snootier or more condescending attitude. They were so judgmental. They judged the families we were there to help as much as they judged the rest of us sitting on the committee. They were there to help their social standing, no one else. That much was clear. We ended up organizing a charity dinner that cost so much money there was almost nothing left for the families that money was meant for. All to put out a show that was up to their standards.
“I was left with a bad taste in my mouth and when Joyce Allen brought her dog to my clinic a year ago I was tempted to tell her to go to hell, but Susan reminded me to be charitable. Apparently she does give a lot of money to organizations Susan volunteers for. But I don’t trust her kind, Amanda, and I think you should be careful. She’s not the type to be your friend unless she needs something from you. Remember that.”
Amanda had never heard Doug talk so much or look so angry. It was a quiet anger, but it was deeply rooted. She couldn’t imagine the Joyce Allen he was describing was the same woman who’d taken her to the fair. It didn’t add up.
“Thank you for the warning, but I swear the woman you’re talking about and the one I know sound like two completely different women. People do change, you know. She lost her wife a few years ago. That’s enough to change a person, isn’t it?”
Doug looked up from his plate to meet her hopeful gaze. “Maybe. I hope you’re right, but be careful anyway. I don’t think people that selfish are capable of a complete one-eighty.”
“Amanda, do you want to play a video game with me?” Noah had appeared at the patio door with a clean face to make his excited invitation. He seemed eager to play with her and she didn’t want to hear more of Doug’s stories about Joyce. He’d already succeeded in placing some doubt in her mind and she hated it.
“Yes, of course,” she answered as she quickly stood up and left the table. She didn’t play video games, but she’d watch Noah for a little while and then she’d leave. She was done talking to Doug for tonight. His intentions were good, but the results of his friendly warning were devastating.
People were so complicated. They had multiple facets, hidden ones even, and one could never know their true motives. If anyone had asked her before tonight if she trusted anyone in this world she would have named Joyce and Doug. Now the two people she thought she could trust exposed two completely opposite versions of Joyce. Who was she supposed to believe? She hated these situations where she had to rely on her intuition. She liked clear instructions, irrefutable facts, everything people would never be with their endless nuances and contradictions.
She’d never truly trusted people before, and as she watched Noah play a video game that didn’t make sense to her, she decided she should have stuck to animals. Animals didn’t have complicated personalities. They didn’t have secrets. They didn’t lie. Their needs were clear as water. They ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, and when they showed affection you didn’t have to wonder if they really loved you or how long it would last. Their love was pure and endless. Of course, the kind of love an animal could provide would never be the kind of love she’d thought she might finally have a chance to find with Joyce. Whether that kind of love was worth risking her peace of mind for remained to be seen.