The next day seemed calm in front of Master Ketchup. Amelia had yet to come up with a new recipe, but off-the-wall combinations like lime and cinnamon or cherry and maple kept coming. They weren’t right. She was like a writer with writer’s block, and it was driving her batty. Sales were still excellent, and it tickled Amelia as she watched Lila tell the construction workers from down the street that tomorrow would be their last day at this location.
“Well, I only come here to see your pretty face,” one beer-bellied fellow with two chins and twinkling eyes replied. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Another fellow asked her if she’d teach him how to bake, and based on the look on his face, he was quite serious.
But the best one was the foreman of the group, who told Lila seeing her sweet face made him diabetic, so she owed it to him to come back soon to make sure he hadn’t died or something.
“What is the perfume you are wearing, Lila, that gets these fellows all worked up? You’re like a bee with honey.” Amelia laughed.
“You know what I’m wearing? I’m wearing the scent ‘unreachable.’ I find more guys trying to get my attention now than I did when I was in my twenties. I blame it on the fact that I don’t want any of them. My mother used to say treat them like dogs and they’ll always come back for more. How right she was.”
“But you don’t treat Rusty that way.” Amelia played devil’s advocate.
“No.” Lila tilted her head to the left. The fact that she didn’t say another word made Amelia smile. Just as she was about to pressure her friend for more information, her phone went off.
“Let me guess.” Lila pulled out the morning’s receipts to work on. “John?”
“What tipped you off?” Amelia groaned.
“The red color that took over your cheeks.”
“Hi, John.” Amelia pinched her face as if the phone had suddenly transformed into a dirty sock or block of Limburger cheese that she didn’t want close to her.
“Amelia. What is this that the kids don’t want to go to the reception?”
Amelia shrugged. “What do you want from me, John? You left a voicemail for your son, sacking him from the role of best man. You didn’t even tell him in person. What do you expect them to do?”
“You need to fix this, Amelia.”
“Me?” She clenched the phone in a death grip. “No.”
“Amelia, how is it going to look if my own kids aren’t at the reception?”
“John, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think they were going to just say, ‘Oh, okay, Dad. Cool. Whatever you and Jennifer want.’ Is that really what you thought would happen? Your children are growing up with or without you. They are both old enough to decide how they want to proceed with what was a raw deal from their father.”
“Amelia. It’s my wedding.”
“Who’s the bride here, John, you or Jennifer? I know it’s your wedding. Which is why you should have stuck up for your kids.” Amelia could tell John was trying to think of a rebuttal. In his universe, this should have been accepted without question.
“Maybe they shouldn’t come at all.”
Amelia felt like she’d been punched in her gut. “I’m not telling them that,” she spat. “You don’t mean it. I know you’re trying to make Jennifer happy because she’s probably freaking out over flowers and napkins. But these are your children. They aren’t me. Don’t beat them up over this.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” John stammered.
Amelia let out a deep breath. “Let the kids do what they want, John. You know they’ll look beautiful. They’ll behave. And if they want to leave after the ceremony, then you make sure they get in a cab and have cab fare.” Because I’m not paying a sixty-dollar cab ride from your freakish ceremony at Agate Beach in Portland, the little devil on her left shoulder snickered.
“I’ve got another call, Amelia. I have to take this.” John’s voice sounded defeated. Amelia didn’t care. She tapped the red button that disconnected the call. Her lips stuck out as she thought for a moment and felt her boiling blood reduce to a simmer.
“You okay?” Lila asked carefully.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Amelia said as if she were quoting gospel. “My kids are fine. Better than fine. They are wonderful. But their dad… I think he’s starting to forget that.” She clenched her fists.
“Well, there may not be anything you can do about that,” Lila replied.
“I know.”
Before Amelia could continue, she saw Joyce Ross come out of the revolving door and link her arm through that of a man Amelia thought was very familiar.
As she watched, Joyce was talking earnestly to the man. He appeared to be half listening when he looked at Amelia, smiled, and waved. “Amelia!” he called to her as he quickened his step, slipping out of Joyce’s grasp and approaching the truck.
Amelia snapped her fingers. “Mike!” She smiled and reached her hand out the service window to shake his. “I knew you looked familiar but couldn’t place it until I heard your voice. How in the world are you?”
“Fine. Just fine. I don’t think you ever met my wife, Joyce.”
“Awkward.” Lila coughed.
“Only from buying a couple of my cupcakes. It’s nice to meet you, Joyce.” Amelia extended her hand, but Joyce merely looked at it. She gave Amelia that same don’t really like you flash of a smile.
“How do you know my husband?” It sounded like a loaded question.
“My ex-husband plays softball with your husband,” Amelia said carefully.
“I never got a chance to tell you that I’m really sorry things with you and John didn’t work out,” Mike added.
“Well, no use complaining.” Amelia shrugged. “No one will listen.”
Mike chuckled. Joyce looked at her watch.
“This is my partner in cupcakes, Lila Bergman.”
“How are you?” Lila reached her hand out of the window and gave Mike’s hand a hearty couple of pumps. She didn’t let Joyce have a chance to leave her hanging.
“We see everybody coming and going with the truck parked here. We’ve not seen you before, Mike. You guys heading off to something exciting in the neighborhood?” Lila asked smoothly.
“Dinner,” Joyce interrupted. “And if we don’t get going, we’ll be late.”
Mike looked at his watch. His expression didn’t change, but instead he blinked quickly, looked at the sidewalk, then gathered up a smile from way down deep and looked at Amelia. “I guess we better get going.” Amelia thought of Adam telling his friends he couldn’t go out with them after he was caught with fireworks in his backpack. Mike sounded exactly like that.
“Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Mike.” Amelia smiled. “And it was nice meeting you, Joyce.” Again, Amelia got that nasty flash of a grin before Joyce turned and began walking without Mike.
“Take care, Amelia. Lila, it was nice to meet you.” Mike waved as he shuffled off to catch up with his wife.
“Now that’s an odd couple.” Lila watched with one drawn-on red eyebrow arched high up on her forehead. “You didn’t know that woman was his wife?”
“When Christine said ‘Ross,’ it didn’t even click. I mean, it’s a pretty common name.”
Lila nodded at Amelia.
“But she never went to any of the softball games. I only went to a few every season because, well, they were boring. But I had to make an appearance, you know. How it would look and all.” Amelia rolled her eyes at the bad memory of her marriage. “But I never saw her there. I’d have remembered.”