Thinking of him

Chapter 10

In one of his rare moments of sensitivity, Lee seemed sincere when he commented that Amanda had a life outside of the Agency.

"So...," Amanda looked off to the side, she couldn't even looked him in the eyes, "..I really should go and call Dean, because he's my b-...well, because he's in town..."

"Yes," Lee sounded stiffl, "he's probably expecting your call, Amanda."

"...and if I do call, him Lee," Amanda added regretfully, "that would mean I wouldn't be able to go with you...no, not go with you, I didn't mean that , but, accompany you to where we, that is you are going..."

She was making it more uncomfortable.

"Yeah...sure..." he looked down and shuffled his feet. He looked like a little boy who didn't get the toy from the toy shop window as he tried to hide the disappointment when he looked back up at her, "Alright... I guess , I'll see you later then, okay?" he tried to make it sound casual.

Amanda's eyes looked desperate, "When?"

"When?" Lee looked questionably at her.

"Yes, when? When will I see you again, Lee?"

"I...don't know." Lee forced a slight smile, " maybe I could meet up with you later- in your mother's geranium bushes, perhaps."

Even his teasing could not lighten the mood. Just a few minutes earlier, everything had seemed so light and exciting at the thought of proceeding on with the case, but now everything was just so awkward.

She looked so angelic as she asked, "Will you wait for me, Lee?"

"Yes," Lee immediately answered, and then both he and Amanda looked stunned at his ambiguous response, wondering what it meant. He cleared his throat, "I mean, no..that is to say, I didn't mean..." he cleared his mind, "what was it that you asked again, Amanda?"

"Will you wait for me before you try and get the information from the detective?" Her eyes were pleading.

"I'm not sure I'll even talk with Cassie," admitted Lee, "Like I said, it's tricky. I may have to find another way to get the name of the original owner of that coffee table."

"I see."

Lee was ready to let at go at that, but he realized he needed to make things right.

"Amanda..I need to say something..."

"Hmm, Lee?" She held her breath.

Lee slightly blushed, "I don't know what just happened between us a few minutes earlier. Our conversation went...weird; even for us..."

Amanda looked relieved that they were talking about it.

"I know, I know, Lee," Amanda agreed, more relaxed now, "it was weird! It's like that time at the mall when I opened the door for someone to go in first and she actually hadn't planned to go through that particular door. Embarrassing."

Lee had a slight grin.

"Is that all you've got, Amanda? " he challenged, "I remembered a time when I took an Agency refresher class and when I raised my hand to give the answer to the coordinates of a coded message, I realized my calculation wasn't even one of the multiple choice answers on the board!"

She laughed, "Oooh! One time I called the phone company about my billing statement and I ended the call with 'thank you for your help, ma'am' and it turned out to be a man!"

Lee shook his head, smiling.

"Almost as awkward as what just happened now, but not quite!"

Lee gave her a playful wink.

Amanda melted a little. The mood had lifted considerably.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad we talked it out, Lee," Amanda smiled, still leaning against the car door.

"Yeah."

Amanda didn't want to go, but reluctantly she said, "Well..."

Lee sucked in his breath, "You need to go, Amanda. He's waiting."

He reached towards her and Amanda held her breath tightly. For a split second,she believed Lee was going to grab her waist and pull her towards him like in her dream, and her heart started beating faster as her pulse raced.

But no; he had leaned over to open her car door. What had really surprised her about herself was that if he had made any type of move towards her, she wasn't sure she would have stopped him; and that thought scared her.

"Drive safely, hmm?" he said.

Giving him a hesitant smile. Amanda got in the driver's side seat of her station wagon and when he shut the door, her hand went up for small wave.

And as her car drove away, what Amanda and Lee had failed to notice was the figure looking through the binoculars in a car across the street, observing their every move.

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It was supposed to have been a romantic dinner for two.

She and Dean had just finished dining at the renown "1789" Restaurant, the quintessential DC dining experience. The place was located near the capitol, in a beautifully renovated Federal house. Inside, it had a relaxed country-inn elegance, decorated with American antiques including Limoges china, finished with a roaring fireplace.

But she didn't notice any of that. She just couldn't wait to get home. She practically popped out of seat after Dean had paid the bill.

They were now walking to the front door of Amanda's residence.

"I had a lovely time, Dean," Amanda was saying, as she got her keys out of her purse, "The dinner was superb. Thank you."

"I'm glad," Dean said. He leaned in to make his point, "but Amanda, aren't you going to ask me in?"

Amanda's hand had been shaking as she inserted the key into the lock. She just wanted to be alone with her private thoughts for the rest of the night. Yet, how could she say that to Dean?

"Amanda?" Dean's voice brought her back to reality.

"Oh! Sorry!" Amanda blushed "It's just...this being a school night and all...I need to get up early," she attempted an apology smile, "so much to do with the boys and work, you know; you understand, don't you?."

Dean's face darkened a bit.

"I'm not sure I do, Amanda."

It was the first time Dean had sounded so cold, and Amanda was surprised.

"What is it that you don't understand, Dean?" she asked.

Dean eyed her closely, "Let me ask you this.. is there something you need to tell me?"

Amanda was trying to think fast, as she felt sweat beads on her upper lip, "No, no, I don't think so...why?"

"It's just..." Dean admitted, "ever since you've taken that job of yours, Amanda, you've changed."

"That's to be expected, Dean," Amanda was getting defensive, "after all, I've grown and learned through my new position.."

"But isn't your real job to make a nice home?" Dean questioned, " You can't do that if you're constantly out of the house! Maybe this job is too hard for you."

She scowled, "I can do a job and take care of a household at the same time, Dean!"

Dean's expression didn't change.

"Now no need to be mad, Amanda," he calmly stated, talking to her as if she were a child.

Amanda pursed her lips.

"How can I not be at least a little mad when you tell me my job is too hard for me?"

"Okay, so you want to work, I get it," Dean said evenly, "but maybe you can find something... more suited to your talents. Like a file clerk, perhaps."

Amanda looked upset, "Can we drop this, please?"

Dean shrugged, "Fine by me."

He moved closer to her and Amanda wanted to feel something. She yearned for her pulse to be racing or her heart to be beating faster...but nothing. Funny she had never wished that before. But it changed, ever since she met...

She couldn't finish the thought. Or didn't want to.

"Amanda," Dean was so close to her face, "'I've missed the person I met a year ago. It's so different now between us."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Amanda stated, as she took a step backwards, her back completely up against the door, "but if you must know, I'm...I'm just not sure about us anymore..."

A concerned look crossed Dean's face, "Why? What has changed? I know it's hard with me being out of town often, but I have a career."

"Unlike me who has no career, I suppose," she murmured glumly.

Dean gave a tired sigh, "I'll check my schedule and call you tomorrow. We can talk then. Maybe you'll be more reasonable by then."

"I don't know, Dean..."

He reached out and rubbed her arm, "Think about us. Say you won't give up on us until we've talked. Please?"

Amanda forced a smile, "O-kay, I suppose."

"That's my girl."

He leaned in and touched his lips with hers. Amanda let the kiss linger on her lips longer than she wanted, hoping she would feel something. Instead, her mind was screaming for it to end.

When Dean separated from her, he had a satisfied look on his face, "We're good for each other, you know. You can see that, can't you, Amanda?"

Amanda was expressionless.

"I'm beginning to see it very well," she responded enigmatically.

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Amanda walked into her house and shut the door, leaning her back against it. Closing her eyes for a bit, she sighed in relief that the dinner, the date, the talk with Dean was over.

She should be going upstairs, but she couldn't help herself. Walking over to the kitchen, she turned on the light to look out the large kitchen window. Looking out to the left then to the right, she peered out in wistful anticipation. Her hopes wilted. No sign of Lee. But why would he? She had already told him she had a date with Dean. Tired and disappointed, she trudged out of the kitchen, quietly turning off the lights.

And despite having a household of people upstairs, she felt utterly alone.

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The next morning Amanda had an idea. After dropping the kids off to school, she headed immediately to the consignment store. Once inside, she looked about, Amanda noticed they had sold some items and had added some things in the store. Any other time, she would have loved to browse, but today she had a mission to accomplish.

Mrs. Clark looked up and instantly recognized Amanda, but she did not seem happy to see her.

"Good morning, Mrs. King," she coolly greeted her, "Are you dropping off more items from Liz Traylor's closet, perhaps?"

Obviously Mrs. Clark had not forgotten the Liz Taylor incident, so Amanda put on her perkiest smile.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Clark! "Amanda exclaimed, then looking contrite, "I truly am sorry about what happened the last time I was here."

Mrs. Clark looked indignant, 'I don't appreciate being snookered, Mrs. King."

"It was really more a misunderstanding, Mrs. Clark," Amanda explained as she now held out a wrapped plate, "Oh, and by the way, this morning I had baked some fresh oatmeal raisin cookies and I accidentally made way more than my family could eat, so I thought you might like a few..."

Amanda lifted the plastic wrap to reveal the cookies, still warm. The aroma filled the entire room. Mrs. Clark's whole face lit up.

"Wellll, " Mrs. Clark squealed, viewing the stash, "Aren't you a dear?" she immediately picked one up and took a bite, "Mmmm..divine!."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Clark continued munching, "So why are you here?"

Amanda now put her plan to work, "Two weeks ago while window shopping, I had notice a lovely colonial coffee table your shop had displayed on the front window."

At the same time, Amanda pointed to where that Chinese vase still laid on the floor.

"Oh, that table?" Mrs. Clark recalled, "Yes, I remembered that piece. Actually, that was purchased a few days ago, I'm afraid."

"What a shame!" Amanda looked sincere. She leaned in, "I had been very interested in purchasing it. I was hoping the buyer had other matching pieces. Could you give me the name and address of the original owner?"

Mrs. Clark looked surprised, "Why, Mrs. King! You of all people should know that we cannot divulge that type of information! We can't have customers harassing our buyers!"

"Yes, silly me," Amanda smiled, trying to think of another way to get the information.

"Is there anything else you need, Hun?" asked Mrs. Clark, preparing to end the conversation.

Think, Amanda, think.

"Actually, yes," Amanda smiled, "Remember one of the items I had brought in last time was a pink hooded sweatshirt? You know what I'm talking about? The pink pullover with a hood?"

A look of recognition crossed Mrs. Clark's face.

"Uh, no, no, I can't seem to recall that one..." she obviously lied.

But Amanda pushed forward, "I'm sure you must. Please check your records, Mrs. Clark."

Then still holding the plate of cookies, Amanda now held it away, just enough so the clerk could not reach it.

Mrs. Clark looked longingly at the plate. Finally she reached down and retrieved a small file box from under the counter. Running her fingers through the file cards, she stopped when she found the one she wanted.

"Got it!" Mrs. Clark pulled a card out, and then sounded nervous, "but...the sweatshirt's gone."

"Gone?!" Amanda then hid the plate behind her back as Mrs. Clark now looked very distressed.

"Did I say gone? I meant gone...in the back!" she corrected herself.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes! We chose not to display that lovely top out here, although I can't imagine why..." she tried to catch sight of the plate behind Amanda's back, "that particular top is so delicious...er,...darling..."

Amanda looked relieved, "The sweatshirt has a sentimental value to me."

That part was true. Amanda had worn that sweatshirt when she was kidnapped by bad guys and Lee had actually negotiated to get her back. It's not everyday one gets kidnapped and rescued by a spy! Oh, that was a very good day indeed! Now that she thought about it, she DID want that top back! She never thought kidnapping could bring forth such a wonderful memory.

That sweatshirt was more valuable to her than Fort Knox.

Amanda enticingly held out the plate again, "I would really like that sweatshirt back, Mrs. Clark. Really."

Mrs. Clark hungrily licked her lips, "Of course, Dear. I'll get it out of the tra- uh, backroom." It was obvious she was going to say 'trash', but Amanda ignored the last part.

"Thank you, Mrs. Clark." Amanda remembered her manners.

"Not at all, Hun," Mrs. Clark responded, grabbing a third cookie before she left for the backroom.

Once Mrs. Clark was out of sight. Amanda put the plate down and quickly turned the file card box around. Fingering the 'table' index tab, she shuffled through the cards until she found the one that listed the owner of the colonial coffee table.

She heard footsteps approaching and Mrs. Clark's cheery voice through the curtains, "I've found it; it's right here!"

Quickly Amanda grabbed the card and slipped it into her pants pocket and then quickly picked up the plate again while at the same time trying to look normal, just as the curtain door was swiftly pulled apart.

Mrs. Clark appeared, with the pink sweatshirt in her hands, "Is this what you were looking for?"

Amanda gratefully exchanged the plate of cookies for the sweatshirt. Everyone was happy.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Clark," Amanda assured her, as she cuddled the top, "I got exactly what I came for.".

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