“It should be interesting,” I agree before we fall into a comfortable conversation. Wanting to steer the topic away from Amelia and me—mainly because I don’t feel right having this discussion without her here—I ask about her vacation with Will, and she tells me that it was wonderful, though she hated not being able to attend Alan’s party. It wasn’t often she and Will took him up on the invite, but every once in a while, they were able to make it. I always admired that she and Alan had remained close after their divorce. I know this isn’t something Gretchen and I will be able to pull off, and it only makes me more thankful that we’d never had any children. It makes for an exceptionally clean break.
So long as she signs the damn papers without much more trouble.
We catch up over the next hour and a half, when suddenly we’re interrupted by the sound of a key slipping into the lock. There’s only one other person with a set of keys to my place. At first, I’m elated that she’s decided to come home tonight, but then I wonder if that’s a good sign or a bad one. Does this mean that her conversation with her dad didn’t go well?
I excuse myself from the living room and round the corner to the entryway just as Amelia slips through the door. She smiles upon seeing me, and there’s something in her eyes that tells me things must have gone well.
Relieved, I pull her into my arms and lift her up until I’m kissing the side of her neck. “You’re back.”
Slowly, I lower her back to the floor, remembering that her mother is just in the other room. I’m just about to fill her in as her hands slide down my chest and her fingers curl into my shirt, but she speaks before I get the chance. “I am, and I’m so happy to be,” she replies, moving up onto her toes to kiss me.
Then she hesitates, looking deep into my eyes, searching. She must see how nervous I suddenly am about our unexpected company.
Then, just as I’m about to try to tell her again, Samm enters the equation. “Amy?”
I can tell the instant her voice registers with Amelia, because her eyes widen and she slowly leans to the left, keeping her hands on my chest as she peers around me. “Mom?”
Her confusion is obvious as she looks back and forth between us, trying to assess the situation, but soon enough it disappears, and all I see is fear and anxiety.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asks, looking back to me for answers, but before I can say anything, Samm walks around me and pulls Amelia into her arms.
“Hi, baby. It’s so good to see you,” Samm croons.
Amelia’s arms wind around her mother as they embrace. I can tell that Amelia’s still stunned, her wide eyes looking up at me for some kind of explanation.
Before I can say something, though, Samm releases Amelia, holding her at arm’s length by her upper arms. “You’re not happy to see me?”
Instantly, Amelia’s worry disappears, and it’s replaced by guilt and remorse. “Oh, no. Just surprised. I’m sorry.” Nervous, Amelia eyes me and then her mother again. “And not to make it sound like I’m contradicting that, but…what are you doing here?”
Before Samm can answer, I rest my right hand on the small of Amelia’s back. She jumps slightly, almost recoiling. When her eyes meet mine, I see fear.
She still isn’t aware that her mother knows. Which only makes sense given she just walked through the door.
Offering her a warm smile, I rest my hand on her back again. This time she doesn’t pull away, but she does glance quickly to her mother to make sure everything’s okay. “Why don’t you and your mother go to the living room and talk?” I suggest. “I’ll bring you a glass of wine.”
“O-okay,” she stammers, still clearly confused.
From the kitchen, I hear them settle on the couch. One glimpse into the living room, and I see that Samm has picked the armchair while Amelia is sitting in the centre of the couch. I’ve just finished pouring Amelia’s wine when the timer on the stove goes off, signaling our dinner is ready.
Yes, I’d totally forgotten I’d started dinner when Samm showed up.
“Samm?” I call out. “Did you want to stay for dinner?”
There’s a pause, and when I peek into the living room, I see her looking to Amelia expectantly. “Well, I don’t want to impose,” she replies.
Amelia smiles, looking between us again. “You wouldn’t be imposing. Please stay.”
Once Samm agrees, I bring Amelia her wine and tell them to sit and visit while I set the table for three. I’m hoping that since Samm and I have already spoken that the conversation with Amelia goes as smoothly.