Alone with her thoughts again, Amy sat down in her room, picked up her phone, and stared at Eric’s name.
She stared at it for so long that she didn’t notice the world outside change colors as the sun dipped below the horizon. In the end, it was Ashley’s voice that brought her back to the present with a jolt, coupled with the smell of garlic and ginger.
Sighing, Amy tossed her phone onto the bed and hurried into the dining room, where Ashley and Jude were already waiting for her.
All through a dinner of green salad, steaming hot pasta with tomato sauce, and grilled chicken, Amy snuck glances at them and wondered what it would be like to have a loving relationship like that, one where the man smiled at her and complimented her and looked at her like she was his whole world. Ashley seemed like a young woman in love as she patted Jude’s hand and kept filling up his plate with food.
It filled Amy with a strange yearning, the kind she hadn’t thought of in years.
It was too late for her and Eric, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t set a good example for her kids.
Amy had to believe it was all going to work out in the end.
What other choice did she have?
Chapter Nine
She propped the phone on the booth and picked up her knitting needles. On the screen in front of her, she watched the young woman with bright blue hair and an encouraging smile. The instructor’s fingers moved quickly, deftly, and it made Amy pause and stare at her own gnarled hands for too long.
When had she gotten so old?
She’d been so busy trying to keep the peace with Eric that she’d let time slip by her. Now, here she sat in broad daylight in a quiet booth at Decadent Treats, trying to relearn how to knit. After a lifetime of relying on other people to do things for her, Amy had made a to-do list with the help of Lily, and she’d approached it with all of the gusto and enthusiasm of a woman half her age.
For the umpteenth time that day, Amy found herself wishing she wasn’t setting herself up for failure. First, at the yoga studio, with a slew of twenty-something-year-olds who’d taken pity on her and tried to help her with her poses. Then, at the pottery class, where she made a mess of her clothes and ended up ducking out early.
Knitting was the latest in a long line of ill-fated but well-intentioned ventures.
Her list was beginning to look more and more ridiculous the harder she struggled.
A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead as Amy paused to reach for the glasses around her neck. After adjusting them on the bridge of her nose, she squinted and poked her tongue between her teeth. A short while later, she was grinning triumphantly until the instructor held her own scarf up, and Amy’s fell apart.
With a huff, Amy tossed the knitting needles and yarn onto the table. Then, she folded her arms over her chest and spent the next few minutes scowling and trying to figure out what to do next. When Emily came over with a plate of hot muffins and a mug of tea, some of Amy’s anger lessened.
Emily sat down across from her, a smattering of flour all over her face, and swatted away an errant lock of hair. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“Why is knitting included on so many self-help lists?”
Emily snorted and tore off a piece of the blueberry muffin, causing steam to rise up. “Beats me. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing.”
Amy took off her glasses and rolled her shoulders. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Except that Lily told me it’s good to keep myself busy while I try and figure out the next phase in my life.”
Emily shoved a piece of the muffin into her mouth and chewed. “How’s that going?”
“Great.” Amy made a vague hand gesture. “If you consider failing at everything I try a success.”
“I’m sure you didn’t fail at everything.”
Amy ran a hand through her hair. “Every single thing I’ve tried today has been a disaster. Maybe my kids were right. Ihaven’t really done much for myself in years. Eric made sure someone else took care of the housework, and someone came in to cook a few times a week.”
Emily tore off another piece and pushed the plate toward Amy. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Nobody is completely useless at everything. You just haven’t found what you’re good at yet.”
Amy frowned at the knitting needles and skein of yarn as if they were taunting her. “Well, my kids probably wouldn’t agree with you, so there’s that.”
Emily took a sip of out of her own mug. “What do you mean?”
“Not only are they not taking the news of the divorce well, which I kind of saw coming, but they’re also completely convinced I’m having a midlife crisis and the sooner I come to my senses, the better.”
Emily set down her mug and winced. “They actually said that?”
