Amy's Smile Ch. 08

For one tiny second I thought about feeling sorry for Liam after that last bit. Then Miriam went on with her story.

"So Liam does what any guy would do; he goes out and gets toasted. Hell, charred is more the word. He's so bad he can't find his keys, but he does find his cell phone so he calls our mutual friend at work. It's only 2PM you understand. Anyway, he tells her the whole sad tale. Amy's all upset and sorry for the guy, well, who wouldn't be?"

I could have told her, but she didn't give me time.

"But she's tied up in a meeting and can't leave so I volunteered to pick up the poor goop and bring him over here 'til she could get home. Between us, we managed to shove some coffee down him, but he was still a mess and Amy didn't think he should be alone so she went over to his place to get his jammies and some jeans for tomorrow."

I stood there and digested this wealth of information. When I was finished, I only had one question.

"Where's Liam?"

The way I figured it, this was the pivotal piece of info in this whole soap opera. If Liam was passed out on the couch, with a puke bucket by his mouth, I wasn't going to worry. Not much anyway. But if he was now soberly accompanying Amy on a trip through his underwear drawer than I figured even he'd have enough imagination to figure out a way to get my, my, sweet love to offer him the kind of up close and personal comfort you can only get when you're naked.

Miriam didn't answer right away, then finally said, "Uh, Liam? Where is he?"

"Yeah, is that a hard question?" I know, I know, it wasn't her fault, but dammit why couldn't the woman get to the point?

"Nooo," she finally admitted. "He's with Amy. Why, did you want to speak to him?"

Yeah, right. "That's okay."

"Cause I'll tell him you called and how you were real concerned and if you want, I can have him call you?" She said the last bit like she wasn't sure it was a good idea. No shit, Liam would be too busy using his tongue to lick bits of Amy to bother talking to me.

"That won't be necessary."

"Good... I mean, okay. I mean, geez, the poor guy, he's so upset. I'm so glad he has such a close friend like Amy to help him get through all this, aren't you?"

I closed my eyes and pictured my fist breaking all 47 of Liam's pearly whites. "Miriam, you have no idea."

We said our goodbyes and then I sat there not knowing whether I should scream or throw up. I'd forgotten completely about my little friend until she cleared her throat behind me.

"You okay?"

No, but I nodded. Words would not have been a good idea since the only ones going through my mind were of the four-letter variety.

"I mean you looked sort of funny there."

It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about. Then I realized the whole time I'd been on the phone I'd been extending my arm in and out depending if I was talking or listening to Miriam's screeching. I must have looked like I was doing one-armed calisthenics.

"Bad connection." Yeah along with bad voice, bad news and bad end to my hopes for Amy and me.

She shrugged, "Yeah, whatever. So, hey, this is my mom." She pointed to a woman lounging in the doorframe.

"Hi," I tried to smile, but I wasn't sure I managed it too well. "I'm sorry about intruding like this, I hope it's okay?"

The older woman stared at me for a moment appraisingly and I took the time to look back. She was a fortiesh version of her daughter, except the hair was brown not rainbow and she had a fuller figured like you'd expect, but she was still a babe, more so even, probably because the only jewelry she wore wasn't embedded in skin. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting company either, unless she generally entertained in a ratty old yellow bathrobe over purple sweats that looked like they belonged to a linebacker named Bubba. She didn't seem fazed though about the late night drop in and merely smiled and said, "I'm Vicki. Debbie says you two haven't eaten since noon."

"Druscilla!" Her daughter hissed.

Vicki raised an unringed eyebrow and glared back at her, "In this house your name is Deborah."

"Whatever!" And apparently feeling that was penultimate answer, Druscilla/Debbie shut up and slouched out of the room. A minute later, I heard MTV come on.

Vicki rolled her eyes and winked at me. "You married?" She shuffled over to the coffee maker and got it going.

"No," I said glumly. I barely heard her over the voice in my head screaming that I'd lost Amy.

Because that's what had happened. It was over. Amy was gone. The words repeated again and again in my head. There was no point in hurrying home anymore, no point in trying to see her. Liam was free, even worse, he was needy. Amy was a sucker for needy. Even if she had been maybe considering giving up her obsession with him before, there was no way she'd turn her back on him now. There was also no reason to think he wouldn't take her up on any offer she made either. Definitely doable-remember.

Vicki was still talking. "Kids?"

I struggled to concentrate. "Like I said, I'm not married."

She laughed, "One does not necessarily follow the other."

I looked up at her grinning face then and did my best to smile back. After all, my mess wasn't her fault and she didn't even know about it. So I tried to listen as she chattered on about how how Debbie and her little brother, Jack, were driving her nuts, what with Debbie wanting to look like the next Queen of the Damned and Jack thinking that farting on demand was a talent he should acquire. All the while, she was rooting in the fridge, pulling out about twelve Tupperware containers, popping lids and sniffing.

The last time I was in a kitchen had been with Amy when she'd served me waffles. I'd thought then that somehow I'd be able to repeat that scene with her, now it didn't look like that would ever happen.

"...the only thing I worry about is how much it's going to cost that girl for plastic surgery."

"I'm sorry?" I was lost again.

I wasn't hungry anymore either. All I really wanted was to slide my way back to the motel and maybe think about crying myself to sleep, which I hadn't done since the last time I'd lost a little kitten called Peanut. Then I'd plotted vengeance on my sisters for taking her from me, but this time I wouldn't be able to do that. Liam was what Amy wanted and for her sake I'd have to pretend I was happy for her.

Sometimes it sucks being a nice guy.

Vicki cocked her head. "Trouble in your love life?"

My mouth dropped open, "Uh..."

"Yeah, you have that look." Vicki slid something out of a plastic dish into a baking pan then popped it in the oven and poured both of us a mug of coffee. She walked over and slid a cup in front of me, then turned and went back to the fridge for the half and half. She came over and sat down then. "Sugar's on the table in front of you," she pointed. "Is she cheating on you?"

I thought about that, "It's not that simple."

We sat there in silence for a minute. The buzzer went off from the oven and Vicki got up, pulled out a dish and stirred it, then she reset the timer and sat back down. She looked down at her coffee and murmured, "I'm a good listener."

I almost shook my head no, but there was something about this woman that told me she was telling the truth. It also occurred to me that ever since this whole thing began, I hadn't talked about it to anyone else. Oh sure, there was James, but that wasn't me explaining, that was him seeing and besides, he'd been the one to do the talking. I suddenly wanted to tell Vicki about Amy, all of it.

So I did.

I was right; she hadn't been lying. She sat there quietly when I told her about meeting Amy, rolled her eyes when I told her about cannelloni night, won my undying affection when she muttered What a jerk when I explained about how Liam treated Amy and laughed out loud at the trip to the mall. Her face softened as I haltingly gave her the (very) abridged version of dinner and a movie, but when I got to the last couple of weeks, she laid a hand on my arm and squeezed it tightly. In other words, Vicki was a born mom.

When I finally finished with tonight's enlightening conversation with Miriam, Vicki stood and went over to the stove. She rustled around a bit with some bowls she'd heated in the microwave and then came back with a plate heaped with corn and potatoes and pork roast with gravy. It looked wonderful and I thanked her, but I doubted if I could swallow any of it. Vicki sat back down and looked at me.

"You're a college graduate, right?"

I didn't know where the hell that came from, but I nodded yes.

"And you're what, mid-twenties?"

Again, I just nodded agreement, but I thought she could at least have said something sympathetic instead of changing the subject.

"Have a pretty good job..."

Oh, I got it. This was the start of the pep talk. The one about how I'm young and have a great future ahead of me and this too shall pass.

"Then how come you're such a dumbshit?"

Okay, maybe not.

"Men!" She stood and started to pace. "What is it with you guys? I mean, how the hell did you ever end up in charge of the world? Sure, there's the upper body strength issue so you could hunt and of course no breast feeding thing going on to tie you down, but dumb, god!"

"Um, do you have a point here or this just a feminist moment?" Yeah, I was a little testy.

"The point is, what the hell are you doing in my kitchen staring at day old pork roast when you should be on a plane to Chicago?"

"I told you," I stabbed a piece of the meat and pretended it was Liam's heart-if he had one. "It's too late."

Vicki rolled her eyes, "Charlie, get your butt out of that chair and get going." She leaned forward.

"I, I..." I made the token protest, but I knew that tone of voice from my own mother and I was already standing.

"Tell the girl you love her."

I did my dying guppy routine again with my mouth opening and closing. She didn't look like she was related to James, but obviously they were connected psychically or something.

"And don't you dare do it on the phone or by computer or fax or whatever the hell else way your thinking of to get out of actually doing it face to face. Go to her house, wake her up, drag her out of bed-out of that jerk's arms if you have to, but stand there and look at her and tell the girl you love her!"

I had to ask the question. "You think that will work?"

"I have no idea," Vicki's face was solemn, but her eyes were kind. "But I guarantee it's your only chance." She saw my expression and reached up to stroke my cheek. "See, the thing you haven't remembered is that Amy doesn't know how you feel. How can she make a choice if she doesn't know her options?"

"But she's always wanted Liam..."

"No," Vicki shook her head, "he's all she's ever had. There's a difference."

Either I was so tired I was delirious, or she was right. I decided to pick door number two. I grinned, "It's been a pleasure meeting you."

"Uh huh, now beat it."

I'm not usually a spontaneous hugger, but this time I made an exception. It probably wasn't one of my better decisions. Just as I got really arm lock on Vicki, I heard someone clearing a throat. A male throat. I let go and turned around to see the original owner of the purple sweats standing in the doorway.

Holy shit was this guy big. Not only was he four or five inches taller than me, he must have outweighed me by about seventy-five pounds at least. It didn't help that his Carhart's were covered in snow giving him a real resemblance to Yeti or Sasquatch or Windigo, whatever the hell Minnesotans call the abominable snowman. No doubt this was Vicki's husband and Drucilla's (Oops, in this house, Deborah.) dad. And he'd just walked in on me, a barefoot stranger, hugging his wife. I dropped my arms and stepped back like Vicki had just told me she had bubonic plague.

"Hey Sparky, you trying to tell me something here?" the behemoth spoke in a deceptively mild voice, but the blank expression on his face was a lot less than reassuring.

Vicki didn't seem to be afraid however, she laughed and sauntered up to him, "Ooh, I love it when you're territorial."

"Then you should be thrilled right about now," he informed her.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She didn't come up to his armpits. He practically had to kneel to kiss her, but she helped him by throwing her arms around his massive neck and letting him lift her off the ground.

"Charlie," Vicki giggled again, then swiveled her head, her legs still swinging in the air, "this is my husband, Mark."

"Hi, nice to meet you." When I get nervous, my voice doesn't squeak, instead it drops like having a bass is equal to a black belt or something. At that moment, I sounded a lot like James Earl Jones in Star Wars.

"Uh huh," he grunted then put his wife down.

Vicki glared, "Okay big guy, you scared him enough. Quit with the caveman impression. Charlie is the guy Debbie worked with today, both of them were hungry so she brought him to me for a little home cooking."

"And he was just thanking you, right?" But I could see, he was starting to relax and my adrenaline levels went down to the simmer stage.

She shrugged, "Something like that." She looked at my plate with the fork stuck in the pork where I'd tried to rekill it. "You hungry?"

He nodded then looked at me. "Wasn't this for you?"

I started to answer, but Vicki cut in. "Actually, Charlie has to go catch a plane."

Mark shook his head as he sat down and dug into the mashed potatoes, taking a bite the size of a large snowball and shoving it in his mouth. "Gna shwe msiit." Vicki and I stared at him until he swallowed. "I mean, not tonight. Not unless he can get there in the next fifteen minutes at any rate."

"What?" I croaked.

He deliberately took another bite, this time of pork and chewed it fifty times, just like his mom had told him was good for him. "I was just there. They're were shutting down the airport after the 12:15 got off, it's getting too bad to keep up the runways. That's why I'm home."

I slumped. Like I said, this is the way my life works.

Vicki however, was not so fatalistic. She grabbed my old plate just as Mark was about to shovel in some corn and stared hard at him. "You better get moving then."

"Huh?" His fork was still in midair.

"Go, now. Take Charlie in your truck. You can get there faster than he can."

"Babe?!" Suddenly big Mark was reduced to a whining seven year old. "I'm hungry and tired."

"You'll live," she was relentless, "He needs to leave tonight."

"Vicki," I stepped in hesitantly. Mark had seemed to realize I was no threat, but now I realized who was the really dangerous one in the family and I didn't want to piss her off. "I appreciate your concern, but there's no way..."

"Bullshit. I'll call the airport and tell them you're on your way. Dying mother maybe, I'll think of something."

"But the motel, the rental..." I protested and noticed Mark nodding his head in agreement. Suddenly we were buds against the forces of feminine determination. Course both of us already knew we weren't going to win, but it's nice to have companionship in the face of defeat.

"I'll ship your clothes and Mark can drop off the car tomorrow."

And that was that. Mark groaned and I sighed, and the next thing I knew I was putting on my half dried socks and totally soaked shoes. Vicki yelled at Debbie to come back to say goodbye and the last thing I saw of either of them was Debbie scarfing down the last of the potatoes on her dad's-my-plate.

We drove out of the development in silence. As we turned out onto the highway where my motel was, I cleared my throat.

"You know, thanks and all, but you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, right."

"No, really. Just take me to the motel and drop me off. We can say we didn't make it in time and the plane took off without waiting."

Mark turned and stared at me like I'd lost my mind, "Do you honestly believe that Vicki would buy that?"

He had a point.

"Besides," he went on grimly, "the airport manager is her old high school boyfriend. I stole her from him. Not only does he still have a thing for her, but he hates me and would do anything to make himself look good to her, particularly if it meant I'd have to suffer too. He'll stop the plane if he has to lay in front of it on the tarmac to do it." That seemed like a pretty long time to hold a grudge to me and I guess my expression showed it. "After they broke up he went on the rebound and slept with Rhonda Olson. Knocked her up; they had to get married if he didn't want her old man's shotgun up his ass. Now she's almost bald and weighs 300 pounds."

"Oh."

"They have five kids. All of them look like Rhonda."

"That's really too bad." Hell, what was I supposed to say?

Mark grinned, "Yeah."

I grinned back.

He slid around a corner and after narrowly missing a line of mailboxes looked over at me. "So what's the rush?"

"Huh?"

"Why the big hurry to get out of here? Don't like my town?" The way he said it told me to agree with him wouldn't be exactly smart.

"No, that's not it. I'm going home to..." Shit, I didn't want to tell him this.

"It's a girl isn't it?"

I stared at him in shock. Was I that transparent?

He laughed and answered the question like I'd asked it out loud. "Nah, I just know my wife. She loves messing in that shit. A born yetyl."

I opened my mouth to tell him the word was yenta, but thought better of it. "She says I need to talk to Amy. That's her name, Amy."

"Got it." He fiddled with the radio until some country and western angst came on. "Well she's probably right. Like I said, Vicki's real good at fixing people's love life."

"Yeah, she told me..."

He put up a hand like he was warding off evil and almost drove us off the road. Obviously, he didn't take the same interest in matchmaking that his wife did. When he got back to something that was probably pavement he shut up. I could take a hint and did the same.

The whomp, whomp of the windshield wipers started to hypnotize me and the next I knew, we were stopped and the door on my side opened to blow in a freezing gust of wind and about two feet of snow from a nearby drift.

"Get out," was Mark's only comment.

I did, shivering in my newly saturated socks.

"You have money for the ticket?"

I nodded. Looked like our male bonding experience was over.

"'k, see ya." Mark crawled back into the cab of his 2-ton and left my ass in a swirl of drifting snow.

I trudged into the airport and found that while the exflame hadn't exactly thrown himself in front of the wheels of the plane, he had managed to do what Mark had said he would-kept it from leaving. He was waiting for me in front of the ticket counter of the 'Blue Goose'.

"You Charlie?" He coughed and rubbed his hands together like he was cold though he looked cozy enough to me. Least he hadn't been trudging around in snow up to his ass with only a pair of Nike's and a windbreaker between him and Mother Nature.

I nodded and he pointed to the ticket counter where a sleepy girl in a uniform that looked like she'd been sleeping in it slouched over a computer. She asked for my ID and thirty seconds later handed me a ticket. I looked at it.

"Uh, there's a mistake," I flashed the thing back at her. "It says it's a one-way to Bloomington-Normal."

"Yeah that's right," she yawned.

"I want to go to Chicago."

"Right, hope ya get there," she didn't sound very sincere.

"But..."

"Look," the airport manager stepped up behind me. "This is the only plane out of here. The next flight to Chi-Town aint until 10AM tomorrow. You wanna wait, be my guest, but I gotta tell ya the weather report says this storm is here for the next forty-eight hours at least, so's if ya wanna get outta here, I suggest you shut up and take this flight."