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“Anyway, my wife’s mother isn’t doing so well since her husband died, so Leslie wants to move to D.C. to be closer to her, and I’m looking for opportunities here. Lawrence and I went to school together way back when and we’ve kept in touch.”
Amy glanced over at Lawrence. “Who don’t you keep in touch with?”
“Hey, when I make a friend it’s for life.”
“How come I think you’re doing some matchmaking?”
“Because besides being blunt, you’re smart. I told Charlie that you’re going to be starting up a restaurant here in D.C., and it’s going to be on fire. All that’s missing is the right chef.”
Amy glared at Lawrence. “You know that I haven’t decided to take up Beatrice on her offer for financing.”
Charlie gave Lawrence a concerned glance. “I thought you said this was solid.”
“It is,” Lawrence sighed. “The chef was the last cog in the wheel. Fly out to Minneapolis and give his restaurants a try, Amy. If they don’t meet your standards, then I know you’ll have to pack all your hopes and dreams away in your little spinster hope chest up in some old maid’s attic—”
“Lawrence, that’s just mean,” Charlie jumped in.
“Trust me, it’s what she responds to. How about it, girlie? You ready to spread your baby wings and fly?”
God, he made things difficult. She looked over at Charlie. “What is the name of your flagship restaurant?”
Lawrence let out a loud laugh. “Hot damn, she’s going to do this thing!”
5
“Another stowy, pease, Aunt Amy,” Jimmy wheedled.
“I’ve already read you three stories, it’s time for you to lie down and go to sleep,” Amy said in her best stern voice.
“Please, Aunt Amy,” John begged. “You do the best voices. Mom never does the voices like you do.”
Amy thought about it and realized that her cousin Carla probably didn’t. She was too busy working all the time or trying to wrangle these two. It was tough being a single mother. “Okay, one more story, and then do you promise to go to sleep?”
She got ‘yay’s’ and ‘yes’s’, and being a total marshmallow, she relented. This time she picked up a story about a car that was very old but was intent on winning one more big race. When she was done, Jimmy was asleep, and John was yawning.
“Okay, John, go get into your bed, will you?”
“Okay. Are you going to tuck me in?”
“You know it,” she grinned.
She watched as the little boy almost face-planted into his little bed. She pulled up the covers on Jimmy and placed a kiss on his little baby cheek. Then she walked around the end of his bed so that she could get to John.
“Tired,” he mumbled when she tried to move him to get him under his blanket.
“I know, buddy, but I need you to move.”
“Okay.” Amy grinned as she finally got him settled.
She pulled his blanket up, and the sleeve of her blouse drifted up her arm. Little John touched the long scar on her forearm.
“Does that still hurt?” he asked.
“No, Sweetums, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Is that bad lady going to come back?”
“No, that bad lady is never coming back,” Amy assured him. She gritted her teeth, thinking how Jimmy and John had to have seen her mother use that knife on her. That hurt so much more than the actual cut.
