Amy's Saturday
A giggle bubbled up from her inner being as his long, wiggling fingers touched her side, tickled her bare skin, pulling her close to his body, his arms enveloping her.
"My horsey girl." He laughed, a crooked smile playing on his smooth, kissable lips. She smiled back. He bent down, his mouth closing in on hers.
She pulled away laughing, teasing. "You can't catch me!" She took off, quick in her head-start, leaving him in her wake.
"No fair!" He protested with a laugh, then began the chase.
Looking over her shoulder to taunt him, she saw that he was gaining fast, grinning. She squealed in delight as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulled her close, spun her around.
"Ty!" Amy giggled, then woke with a smile. She rolled over to face him, breathe in his scent, snuggle into his warmth. But, the other side of the bed was undisturbed, the sheets still mostly made, he wasn't there. The lightness of her dream drained from her, disappointment tweaking her heart.
She sighed heavily as she sat up, grabbing her phone from the nightstand. It was early still. Despite no new emails or texts, she scrolled to Scott's text, stared at it.
"Amy. Sorry I missed your call. In Vancouver at a Vet Conference. Cas says you handled Spartan's foxtail issue like a pro!"
The only part of Scott's text that stuck in her brain was "In Vancouver at Vet Conference."
"How many vet conferences can there be in Vancouver?" She wondered aloud, knowing the answer.
She typed a response. "Did you see Ty?" She hesitated, then erased it.
"Run into anybody interesting?" She typed, then quickly backed spaced.
"Have fun. See you tomorrow." She typed, then hit Send.
Sighing heavily, she rolled out of bed.
Per her habit, she made the bed, then headed into the bathroom for her morning routine. As she brushed her teeth, she spied Andrew's toothbrush alone in the caddy.
For the third time in less than five minutes, she sighed heavily. No one was there to hear it.
She thought back to that night, a couple of months ago, when he left his toothbrush there. She had invited him to dinner, just the two of them, the night before the team left for Europe and the competitions leading up to the World Games.
Busy and productive all day, she worked side by side with Eric Lamont, the head coach, enjoying the challenge. She led the team in quick join-ups, liberty work to release stress and reinforce bonds. She took them through jump patterns, forward and back, then lastly, hydro therapy, a slow walk on the underwater treadmill.
At five, Amy rushed back to Heartland to her loft apartment, atop the barn. With the lasagna and garlic bread, courtesy of Maggie's, warming in the oven, she showered and dressed. She was finishing the salad when his knock sounded at her door.
She remembered his entrance, handsome as always, dressed in a sports jacket and tie, much more formal than her own boots, clean jeans, pretty top. He breezed in, arms full with red roses, fancy chocolates, a bottle of cabernet, things she didn't much care about.
He pecked her cheeks first, one on each side, then her lips with warm, tender kisses. "Oh mon Bébé." He murmured.
Throughout dinner, he sipped wine, she water. They laughed and reminisced about their first year together. First and foremost, how his cocky persistence paved way to a successful partnership, a deepening friendship, then ultimately their coupledom. They revisited their first phone calls and conversations, his days long trek across the country towing Dandy to beg her to be his coach. She confessed to falling in love with Dandy before she even liked him, though he knew that to be the case. She recounted her first sight of him, handsome, shirtless, asleep in Dandy's stall. He confessed to being so stirred by her natural beauty that he had to squelch his strong urge to kiss her. They talked about Dandy, her intelligence, her talent, her role in bringing Amy around to him.
She credited Andrew for bringing her out of her funk, giving her a new purpose and a new challenge. He thanked her for helping him achieve his lifelong goal. They discussed their work, their partnership, their success together. They talked about the upcoming tour and being apart, about his return and being together again.
Though her heart was happy, light and contented in his presence, she was not upset about his impending departure. On the contrary, she was proud of him, excited for him that he was about to embark on his journey toward his and his father's lifetime goal.
After dinner he excused himself, returning with minty breath. After good natured ribbing from her, he swore that he in fact did not use her toothbrush, but brought his own. Suddenly worried about her own garlic breath, she hurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth as well. Oral hygiene addressed, they settled into the couch, side by side as he toyed with her hand, pensive, seemingly preoccupied.
Suddenly, he sat up straight, causing her to do the same. Face to face, with little more than light between them, he confessed his thoughts.
"Bébé. I love you. I talked with Jack and Tim. Both agree that you and I make a great couple and terrific partners. They were more than gracious and gave me their approval to ask you to marry me." The words tumbled out of his mouth as though he had rehearsed the emotion right out of them.
Before she utter a word, he retrieved a small gray velvety box from his jacket and opened it. Inside was an engagement ring with a flawless, sparkling marquee diamond, no less than 3 carats. Slightly embarrassed, Amy balled her unkempt nails, stained and raggedy, and to her mind, unfit for such an ostentatious ring, into her palm to hide them.
"Dad gave this to mom when he asked her to marry him. She doesn't wear it any more." He paused realizing the awkwardness of his last comment, pushed forward any way, starting over. "I mean. Amy. I love you. Dad would love you too. He really would. I want you to have this ring. He would too." He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my wife."
His proposal took her by surprise, not because of its suddenness, though it was abrupt, but because she was happy, fully contented with their relationship exactly as it was. She assumed he was as well.
She pulled him close. "Oh Andrew." She smiled then kissed his lips, then his forehead.
"Will you? Marry me?" His voice cracked, a hint of insecurity seeping through.
"Andrew. I love you." She did not answer his question as she wasn't sure what to say. He meant too much to her to hurt his feelings, to hurt his heart.
"Are you saying No to my proposal?"
"What I am saying is I love you. And, I love the way things are between us. Just as they are now. I am not ready for marriage yet." She was clear, but sincere and kind, nonetheless.
His eyes downcast, he didn't responded.
She lifted his chin with her finger, making eye contact again. "Andrew. Why are you asking me now?...You and Dandy are leaving tomorrow for Europe. For the World Games! That is your dream. Your goal. The whole world is opening up to you."
She reminded him. "You have worked so hard, sacrificed so much. You need to relish every minute of that. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."
He didn't respond.
"Andrew. We don't need to rush, to get engaged. You should know that I am here for you, every step along the way, rooting you and Dandy on. I am so very proud of you and for you."
He nodded, then closed the box, put it back in his jacket. He sighed. "I understand if you're not ready."
"Thank you." She kissed his lips one more time, then leaned into his side, her head on his shoulder. He grasped her hand in his.
"I wish you were going with me. I couldn't have done any of this without you." He said honestly.
"Yes, you could and can. You can do anything you put your mind to." She tried to bolster his waning confidence.
They sat in silence for several minutes.
"I miss him so much, Amy." He said quietly, revealing more of his insecurities, his sudden need to be engaged, to belong, to be committed, to not be alone.
"I know you do." She kissed his forehead. "Rest assured. Your dad is watching over you. He is with you every step of the way. And he's so very proud of you."
They stayed like that for some time, holding hands, talking about his dad, Bromont, World Games, Dandy, his early morning flight, any thing and every thing but his proposal. In the wee hours of the morning, he left her to join his team, to catch a plane to Europe.
His toothbrush remained in the caddy ever since, a daily reminder of his proposal and her deferred response.
Their voices rising from the barn below, pulled her back into the present, morning chores beckoning. Spitting the foaming toothpaste from her mouth into the sink, she rinsed, then washed her face. Quickly she dressed in her work clothes, old boots and cowboy hat.
She heavily sighed for a fourth time, entrenching a sober mood.
As she descended into the barn, Simon and Georgie were jabbering, teasing, jawing each other, as they were close in age, Georgie's 18 years to Simon's 19.
"Hey." Amy said, her voice low and flat.
"Hey Amy." They said in unison, then immediately added, again in perfect unison "Jinx. You owe me a coke!" They broke into laughter.
Not much in the mood for games or talking, Amy retorted. "Jinx. You owe me a coke." She said it with a half smile, as though she was teasing, but in a serious tone, clearly indicating she was not.
The two shrugged, though not really the game's rules, they fell in line just the same.
"Now let's get to work." Amy said, setting the tone for the rest of the morning.
Focused on the work at hand, Amy went straight to Spartan first, talking with him gently for sometime. Pulling on rubber gloves and a headlamp, she searched his mouth, checked his ulcers best she could. Simon stood next to her, ready to assist. Georgie stood back and watched.
"Simon. Could you hold his tongue?" She asked.
"Um." He hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
"Let me show you." She suggested.
He leaned in, watched and listened closely to everything she did and said.
"Your turn." She encouraged.
He nodded. On his second attempt, he was able to grasp the long pink tongue.
"Good job." She complimented him. "Before I know it, you'll be running this place."
His freckles brightened with modesty.
"The ulcers look better, maybe less inflamed than yesterday." She commented.
"That's good." He muttered. "Guess they are healing."
Completing the exam, she cautioned him. "Spartan. This is going to sting."
She sprayed an antiseptic in his mouth. Spartan squealed, throwing his head away.
"Oh. I'm so sorry Spartan. I know that hurts. But, it's helping you to heal." She tried to comfort him. "Promise." She stroked his face.
"Maybe your mom wrote something in her journal." Georgie suggested.
"Good idea."
Amy made a beeline for the office. Scouring the journals, she stumbled across an entry on mouth ulcers, pain and Frankincense. Checking with Casandra first, they added the natural remedy to his morning meal of Alfalfa cubes.
"Hey Spartan. Try this. It will make you feel better." Simon said as he put the feed bucket in his stall.
After Spartan nibbled a few cubes, they continued on with their routine, checking in each horse, Harley next. Amy encouraged Simon to take the lead, which he did tentatively at first. They checked over each horse, nose to hoof, looking for emerging or continuing issues. They discussed every element from food, feed, herbs and mix-ins to exercise, grooming and medicines. It was a rhythm that they adopted so Simon could learn her process as soon he would doing it independently starting on Monday.
Horses turned out, save Harley, Maggie May and Calpurnia, to roam the pasture, Amy led a bitless Spartan, out of the barn to slowly walk around the yard for exercise.
Standing with her back again the frame of the open barn door, Georgie watched as Simon mucked the stalls, the endless smelly job that generally he did not mind but relished commenting on.
"That's one thing I do not miss about living here.." She said, her nose wrinkled, her corners of her mouth dipping low. "Cleaning out stalls."
"You know what they say.." Simon offered.
"What?"
"Shit happens..." He paused for effect with a rakeful of semi-hardened dung extended toward her. "Mucking helps. That and a gas mask." He gave her a half-smile, making her laugh as he dumped the poop into the wheelbarrow.
"What do you think she's saying to him?" Georgie pondered aloud as she observed Amy and Spartan.
"Who? Amy?" He glanced out the door. "Probably, the same ole stuff." Simon reasoned, then started mucking again.
"Hm. Doubt that." She uttered as she followed him to Buddy's empty stall. "Something is bothering her."
"Maybe. She has a lot on her mind."
"Like what?"
"Duh. School. It starts Monday."
"That's not it. I think it's Andrew.." she added. "We thought he was going to propose the other night."
Simon looked up at her. "He didn't...so...
"Exactly..the whole thing stinks."
"What stinks?" Amy said, catching them again mid-conversation.
"Mucking." Georgie quickly responded, almost too quickly.
"Oh." She responded half-heartedly.
Spartan settled into his clean stall, Amy haltered Calpurnia, then led her out to the round pen for a solo workout, a join-up of sorts. Simon and Georgie watched from the rails. When the horse joined her in the center of the ring, she gave her a mint, whispering good things.
Simon called to her. "Wanna a saddle?"
"Sure. But, let's take it slow, pad then saddle. See if she remembers."
Simon jumped off the rail, headed towards the barn to retrieve the tack.
"Where's Andrew?" Georgie asked.
"He's at Fairfield. He'll be here later today."
"Hm." She hummed, maybe insinuating something more.
"Need something?" Amy quizzed her niece.
"No, just wondering..." Georgie demurred.
Amy phone vibrated in her belt. "Morning Andrew. Sleep well?...Oh? Sorry." She walked away from Georgie as she listened. "Oh. Okay...No, no. Don't worry...Yes. A ride will be nice." Her smile melted into a frown. "Oh. Today at 4?...No. No. I understand. I am sure she does." She nodded several times. "Of course not...Okay. See you around lunch. Bye."
Putting her phone back in its holster, she looked across the yard, toward the mountains.
"Everything okay?" Georgie asked.
"Yes. Of course." She said without conviction.
Simon returned with the saddle and pad. Amy spent the next 30 or so minutes, slowly approaching Calpurnia from the left side, first putting on the saddle blanket, applying and releasing her weight, then repeating on the other side. She redid the same steps with the saddle, foot in the stirrup but not mounting. For her part, Calpurnia was a steady but suspicious participant, eyeing Amy's every move, listening closely to her every word, holding still in place but poised to bolt if need be.
"Ho. Ho." She cooed. Hand firmly on the reins, she shifted her weight onto her mounting foot, deliberately swung her right leg over the top of the horse, then gradually sunk into the saddle. "Ho. Ho."
Calmly, Calpurnia looked back at her.
"Good girl!" She praised her, patting her neck.
Shifting forward, applying gentle pressure from her legs, Amy calmly, but firmly said. "Walk on."
Calpurnia responded, her gait a steady walk around the pen, easing into a trot causing Amy to smile, the first time since she woke. Completing several loops around the pen, Amy and Calpurnia joined Simon and Georgie at the rail.
"Whoa! Good girl!" Amy praised the young mare as she came to a stop.
"She's looking good." Simon said.
"Yeah, she is. I think she's ready for a nice trail ride." She grinned. "Wanna go?"
"Yes!" They two said enthusiastically in unison.
"Georgie, will you ride Harley? He'll like that." Amy suggested.
"Yeah. Me too."
Within twenty minutes, the three and their horses were racing across the open fields, breathing in the fresh morning air, warmed by the early sun. They slowed to a even pace, three abreast on the bluff just above the river, Amy closest to a thick line of aspens.
"Whoa!" She urged Calpurnia to a quick standstill. "Look foxtail!" Amy called out, pointing to stand of the tall grass with prickly heads. The other two pulled their horses to get a look-see.
"It looks harmless." Georgie commented.
"Yeah. But you saw what it can do." Simon cautioned.
"You know. Spartan was tied to this area during our picnic a few days ago. He must have grazed here." She frowned.
"What do we do?" Simon asked.
"We just need to be careful where we tie the horses up."
"I mean. How do we get rid of it?" Simon asked.
"Well. We could use chemical herbicides to kill it." She explained. "But. The residue can be just as dangerous to horses, and other animals, if ingested."
"Oh."
"Once Spartan was poisoned after eating grass along the road that had been sprayed with chemicals." She said offhandedly.
Her thoughts drifted back to that day, returning from the dude ranch trail ride, hearing the story from Mallory, feeling proud of Ty and his quick thinking, seeing him with Kit.
"What happened?" Simon asked.
When Amy didn't immediately respond, Georgie jumped in. "Ty saved him. He used a funnel to give him water and activated charcoal."
Surprised by her niece's knowledge of an event that happened well before her arrival at the ranch, Amy tilted her head, brows knitted, a quizzical look crossed her face.
"What? I heard the story a million times." She exaggerated. "Ty told me that's why decided to become a vet."
She conceded her point, nodded. "Come on. Let's go. Lou's gonna soon wonder where we are." Amy replied, turning Calpurnia around, urging her forward, leaving the two teenagers behind.
"See. What did I tell you?" Her tone implying I Told You So.
"What?"
"Ty's her soulmate." She said simply, then urged Harley to follow in Amy's path.
Simon held Maggie May steady, as he took in Georgie's words. Alone, his sights drifted to the river below, its currents glistening under the morning sun, its color reflecting the burgeoning blue sky. From the corner of his eye, he saw him swoop, fast and low, mere inches above the river's surface. Suddenly, mid flight, the bald eagle seemed to slow, to lean back, his massive wings held steady, his talons extended forward, dipping below the frigid surface. He snatched a speckled, sliver rainbow trout from the swift river. After a momentarily imbalance, he adjusted to the fish's weight, then flew to the river bank, the foot long fish in tow. Landing not far from Simon, he released his prize, writhing and twitching, gasping for air, onto the ground. With his banded, bright yellow feet and sharpened talons, he subdued his prey. Between his maxilla and mandible, he gouged its head, extracting a chunk of scaly flesh, savoring his first taste.
Extracting his phone from his belt, Simon quietly took several pictures. His movement caught the eagle's notice, causing him to look up, shift his stance. The eagle assumed a regal pose, his white head lifted, his massive chest expanded, his strong wings spread, his golden eyes focused on Simon. Simon felt breathless in the near presence of a bird so majestic, so powerful, awe inspiring. He snapped another picture. The raptor tilted his head, folded his wings, before resuming his meal.
Wanting to give the eagle space to eat in peace, Simon directed Maggie May with reins, knees and gentle prodding to head away from the river, toward Heartland.
Showering and dressing after morning chores and ride, Amy was braiding her hair into a side ponytail when he knocked at the loft door.
Opening it, he stood there, handsome as always, dressed nicely, holding an arm full of shopping bags. Though a smile was affixed to his mouth, his face showed strains of sleeplessness, slight circles under his eyes, tiny lines on his forehead, his eyes dull.
"Hey Bébé." His voice was quiet, wearied.
"Hey Andrew. Come in." She smiled, kissed his cheek and led him upstairs. "You look tired. Did you get any rest?"
"Not really." He admitted as he walked into her loft.
"Maybe you can nap after lunch or on the plane." She suggested.
"Maybe." He touched her arm. "Hey. I'm sorry about mom and the earlier flight."
She nodded. "I am disappointed, but I understand. She's your mom, after all. Of course she wants to see you."
"Thanks for understanding." He answered, then put the packages on the coffee table as he sat down on the couch.
"What's all that?" Her interest peaked.
"Thought I'd pick up a few things for you."
"For me?" Her eyes were wide in surprise.
"Yes. Come sit. Let me show you." He patted the couch, encouraging her to take a seat next to him.
"Andrew. Thank you. You didn't need to..." She said, still stunned at the mound of bags as she sat down.
"Here. Open this one first." He presented to her a large, rectangular shopping bag with a Coach logo stuffed with tissue paper, tied with a blue ribbon.
She quizzed him. "Where were you this morning? I thought that you were resting."
"Couldn't sleep. So I went back to Calgary, the Chinook Centre, to do a bit of shopping." He admitted. "Open it."
"What is it?" She excitedly untied the ribbon. Amongst the designer tissue paper was a beautiful Coach backpack in supple tanned leather.
"Oh Andrew. Thank you. It's.. wow. Lovely. It's perfect." She remarked, then grimaced as she pull it out of the bag and hoisted the straps on her shoulder. "But, boy, it's really heavy."
"Look inside."
She unzipped the backpack. Stuffed within its many compartments were spiral notebooks, a leather bound journal, ballpoint pens, pencils, calculator, datebook, stapler, tape dispenser, scissors, highlighters, ruler, three flash drives, post-it notes in every color. And, more.
"Oh my. Thank you!" She was thrilled.
"Everything you need for school."
"No kidding. I will be most prepared student on campus." She paused, then lamented. "Boy, this makes Monday real, doesn't it?"
"Don't worry. You'll be fine." Patting her knee, he tried to reassure her.
"Open this one next." He handed her a white plastic bag from the University of Calgary bookstore. "I got these yesterday when we were there."
"Let me guess. Dino?" She teased.
He frowned, then urged. "Open it."
First thing she pulled out was a tiny red stuffed dinosaur on a keychain.
"Dino!" She grinned. "I was right!"
"You put it on your backpack. Let me show you." She handed him the red mascot which he attached to the zipper of her new bag. "It's all the rage. Or so the lady at the bookstore said."
"Cute! Thank you!"
"There's more in there." He said.
She pulled out a short woolen dress with three quarter sleeves made of a red and black tartan with a thin gold strand running through it. She stood up, held it up to look at it. "For me?"
"Of course, it's for you! Its the university's official tartan pattern. That same lady suggested it. She said its really popular for autumn with all the students, or rather the women."
"Very chic!" Holding it to her body, she spun around. "How do I look?"
"Beautiful as always." He gazed at her with loving, but sad eyes.
She folded it up, sat back down. "Thank you."
From another bag, she pulled out a bright white sweatshirt with University of Calgary embroidered on the chest with the university's coat of arms underneath. And, a pair of denim shorts and white canvas tennis shoes.
"Wow Andrew. Thank you. I will definitely fit in with all those young coeds." She said, though she couldn't really imagine herself walking around campus, fitting in ever.
"I wanted you to feel that way. That you belonged. But, you'll do more than fit in. You'll outshine everyone." He said earnestly. "I have no doubt."
She blushed. "Thank you, Andrew. You are so thoughtful. And way too generous." She meant it.
"Last one." He handed her a small white bag, labeled the Sun Hut. She unwrapped the white tissue paper, found a black sunglasses case.
"Open it."
Inside was a brown rimmed pair of sunglasses.
"Oh my gosh! I love them." She said as she slid them on, then struck a model pose. "What do you think?"
"They look good on you."
She grinned.
"Those are classic Ray-Ban Wayfarers." He paused then asked. "Ever hear that Don Henley song, the Boys of Summer?"
"I love that song." She started to half hum, half sing.
"I can see you
Your brown skin shining in the sun
You got that hair slicked back
And those Wayfarers on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone"
"You have a wonderful voice Amy. I had no idea." His eyes glistened as he quietly complimented her.
"Andrew. What's wrong?" She searched his face for clues. "Tell me."
He exhaled heavily. "It's just that song. I heard it last night on the radio on the way to back to Fairfield. The words...you know. They're kinda..." He paused, looking for the right word. "Bittersweet. The end of summer."
She took off the sunglasses, looked into his watery eyes, kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "You're being sentimental."
The faintest of smiles flickered on his lips, then disappeared. He confessed. "Bébé. I couldn't sleep last night. Couldn't stop thinking about our time together...it's been so incredible. Really, truly wonderful. The best time of my life, actually."
"It has been really nice." She agreed.
"Yeah." He seemed defeated. "And, now it's ending."
She tried to dissuade him from his somber mood. "It isn't over yet. We still have time."
He simply shook his head No.
"We do. A few more hours. After that, we'll talk every day. We'll see each other in a couple of months. At the Games. I'll be cheering you on every step of the way. You and Dandy will do great."
"Amy..." He breathed her name out, faintly, devoid of energy.
She added, try to brush away his worries. "Time will fly by...you'll see. It will be August before you know it."
"That's just it. Time will fly by. Then what? After the Games? I'll be in Bromont and you in Vet School."
"Andrew..."
"Amy." He said again, as he took her hands in his. "I love you. You have given me so much more than I ever expected, more than I deserved. I am...eternally grateful."
She didn't say anything, but listened intently.
"We both know that we're only delaying the inevitable. We have to be honest. We have to call a spade a spade." His breath caught.
Her blue eyes filled with tears.
"We had something remarkable. But, it's end has come. You've known that. It's just taken me longer."
Not disputing his conclusion, Amy nodded, a single tear ran down her cheek.
"Bébé. Don't cry." He kissed the salty drop on her cheek, then tried to smile. "Hey. I still expect you in the stands at the Games. Waving the Canadian flag, dressed head to toe in bright red maple leaves."
Her laugh combined with a sob.
"I mean it. Okay?"
She nodded.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She wiped her eyes. "Andrew. You were godsend. Really. You came into my life at a very low point. You restored my footing and my confidence. You made me laugh again. You healed my hurt heart. I am eternally grateful."
Leaning in, the two embraced, clung to the last moments of their coupledom, uncertainty resolved, both relieved in their own way.
Her phone's vibration interrupted them. Looking at the display, she said. "It's Lou. Lunch is ready."
He nodded. "Let's go."
"We don't have to." She offered him a way out.
"I want to. I still plan to be in your life." He smiled. "As your biggest supporter and fan."
She smiled back. "I'd like that."
Much to everyone's surprise and relief, lunch was a pleasant, low key affair. Not only was the menu of grilled cheese and tomato soup simple, comforting, Tim was working at Maggie's so the conversation was easy and light in his absence.
Simon excitedly relayed the minute details of his eagle encounter, complete with pictures. Topics of school, competitions and New York rounded out the pleasantries.
Halfway through the meal, Andrew cleared his throat, then held Amy's hand. "Amy and I have some news."
"Oh?" Surprised, Lou's head snapped to attention, her eyes wide open. She leaned over to Peter, whispered. "I told you that something was different about those two."
Simon and Georgie looked at each other, mouths agape.
He looked lovingly at Amy, then addressed the table. "I want you all to know how much I love Amy. Her heart, her kindness, her talent, her incredible gifts. I am forever grateful to her. And, I am so proud of her and her decision to go to school. She will soon have the degree that matches her natural gifts." He raised his glass. "To Amy!"
Everyone followed suit, raised their glass, toasted Amy.
"Cut to the chase. What's the news?" Lou pushed.
"We..well, um." He stumbled, then looked at Amy.
Amy stepped in, spoke up. "And, I want you all to know that I love Andrew too. His dogged persistence, his faith and courage, his strength of character, his work ethic. His undying friendship and support. His heart. I am so proud of him, his accomplishments on and off the jump course, and no doubt, his upcoming wins." She raised her glass. "To Andrew."
Again everyone followed suit.
"Amy...?" Lou pleaded. "What are you saying? Are you two getting married?"
Andrew and Amy looked at each other, smiled, prolonging the suspense.
"Tell her Andrew." Her eyes were bright to match her mood. "Put her out of her misery."
"No. We are not getting married. But, we do vow to remain the best of friends." Andrew said, then kissed her cheek.
"To support each other in our separate endeavors." Amy added.
"Always!"
"Oh. So no wedding. Okay. Good." Recognizing the awkwardness of her comment, she added. "Er. I mean, I am happy if you're happy."
"We are." Andrew and Amy said together.
Georgie whispered to Simon. "Told you."
"Whose gonna tell Tim?" Peter said sarcastically.
"I leave that up to you all." Andrew declined, with a smirk.
"Chicken." Amy shot back. Laughter burst out around the table.
The hour drive to the airport was filled with country music from the radio, dotted with conversation, sporadic laughter. Wearing her new sunglasses, Amy drove Lisa's SUV, Andrew reclined in the passenger seat.
Just before 3pm, Amy pulled into an empty parking space in the airport garage, cut the quiet engine. She turned to him.
"Andrew. Thank you for everything. I will always have a place in my heart for you."
He nodded, leaned over and kissed her lips for the last time. "I love you. I want you to be happy Amy Fleming. You deserve that and more. Even if it's not with me."
With nothing left unsaid, they broke eye contact, unbuckled their seat belts and exited the vehicle.
Walking side by side through the garage to the terminal, Amy eyes took into every vehicle that they passed. She stopped short, exclaimed. "Well, will you look at that?"
"What?"
"It's an old Norton." She crossed the lot to get a better look at the motorcycle dwarfed between two late model pick-up trucks. He followed behind her.
"I haven't seen one of these in years." She said with a bit of nostalgia in her voice, crouching down to look at the motor. "It's clean, and in great shape. It's a real beauty."
"I didn't know you were a motorcycle fanatic."
"In my younger, two-wheelin' days..." She said vaguely.
"Who knew?" He laughed. "Come on, Biker Chick. I don't want to miss my flight."
"Let me get a picture first." She took a quick picture of the bike with her phone.
"How about I take of you and your dream machine?" Andrew offered. With Amy standing behind the Norton, he snapped another picture.
"We better hurry."
The two quickened their pace to the terminal where Andrew checked in at an airline kiosk. Stepping away, they faced each other.
"Let me know that you arrived safety. Okay?" Amy asked.
"Will do. See you in North Carolina. Don't forget the flag!"
"I won't." She laughed, then said. "Goodbye Andrew."
"Bye Amy."
After a friendly hug goodbye, they parted in opposite directions, Andrew toward the security line, Amy towards the parking garage, neither looking back.
Heading to the parking lot, she seemed to radiate a new lightness, on her face, in her eyes, in her being. She could not help but smile, as though a weight had been lifted. Several passerby smiled or tipped their hat, in return.
Her step, too, had a certain spring, bounce, and quickness as she navigated her way back to the spot. When she arrived, she stood beside the motorcycle so close that her hand automatically reached out, touched the scripted Norton logo, painted in gold on the shiny black gas tank. Her hand continued along the bike's body to the black leather seat. She was lost in her memories.
"Hey. What the hell are you doing?" From behind, a gruff voice yelled, startling her. "Hands off!"
"Oh. Sorry." She stammered, stepped back, then turned to face the owner of the voice, expecting to see a gang member dressed in black leather and chains, covered in tattoos.
Instead, he was a tall, slender man, likely in his fifties, salt and pepper hair, a two day beard, wearing a leather jacket sans gang symbols.
"Well? Why are you touching my property?" He demanded.
"Um. I apologize." She continued. "Um. It's just that your Norton brought back a flood of memories for me." She swallowed, pushed her hair behind her ear. "You have a beautiful motorcycle. A Norton Commando, isn't it?"
Surprised by her knowledge, he softened, a bit. "Well young lady. Good eye. Yes, she's a 750."
"She's in great condition."
"Still doesn't give you the right to touch my bike." He groused.
"I know, I shouldn't have." She apologized again. "My friend was very protective of his Norton too. He didn't like anyone touching or riding his bike either."
"Hmmf."
A smile spread across her lips. "Though he did let me help him put her back together after his wreck."
"Serious?" He asked.
"The wreck? Yeah. He was pretty banged up. And his bike had to be entirely rebuilt."
"That's tough. I had to rebuild mine after my accident in '98. Broke my leg and arm about two months after I bought her. Took me and my wife nearly two years to put us back together." He put his hand on the bad of his neck. "What year?"
"The accident?"
"No, his Norton?"
"She was a '74. 850 Commando."
"Good year and model. Ever ride her?"
"Yes, well, mostly as a passenger. Boy, we had some great adventures on her."
"Me and the Mrs. ride every Sunday, going on, oh, 35 years now. Since high school."
"High school sweethearts?"
"Yeah." He smiled. "Ever drive one yourself?"
She laughed. "Sort of. He taught me how to drive the Norton at the ranch but I never did on the road. I was too scared."
"Nothing like driving the open road on a motorcycle. The sense of freedom is like no other." The man almost pontificated.
"That's what he said too...You know, it took me a while, but I learned to love that motorcycle." She said, then added quietly. "I miss..her."
"I see." He suggested. "Maybe you miss your friend too?"
"Maybe." Her eyes lowered to the ground in her admission.
Just then, a flash of something shot past her, right past her cowboy boot, between the tires of the Norton and under the truck in the next parking space.
"What was that?" She said, then got down on her hands and knees to look under the truck. Beside a back tire was a scrawny brown kitten with matted fur.
"It's a kitten!" She looked up at the man. "We need to catch her before she gets hurt or worse. Do you have some food?" Amy pleaded.
The man thought for a moment. "Will beef jerky do?"
"Perfect." He handed her a wrapped stick from his jacket pocket, then crouched down beside her.
Unwrapping the dried meat stick, she calmly offered a piece to the kitten, calling softly. Clearly hungry, the tiny kitten's nose and whiskers twitched, enticed by its strong smell. The frightened kitten remained frozen in its spot.
"Guess we'll have to entice her a bit more." Amy muttered.
She stretched out, flattened herself against the dirty concrete, slightly under the truck, then tossed a single small piece of the jerky toward the kitten. Not moving, Amy waited patiently.
The kitten eyed the jerky suspiciously for several minutes. Overcome by its smell and her hunger, she slowly moved toward the dried meat, inch by glacier inch. Reaching the jerky, she licked the morsel daintily, then scarfed down the entire piece in one bite.
"Good girl." Amy purred, then tossed another piece. "Here, have another." Hesitant again, the kitten slowly crept toward the jerky, first licking it, then eating it whole.
"Sweet little girl." Amy cooed. This game went on for 15 minutes, attracting a stream of onlookers, who stopped for a moment or two then moved on. Finally, Amy was able to snatch the kitten from under the truck. She sat up, cross-legged, cradling the screaming kitten to her chest.
"You got her! Good job."
Amy calmed the kitten, rubbing it's tiny head. "Isn't she beautiful?" The young cat's mud colored fur was matted, sticky, it's green eyes crusty.
"She kinds looks like a Burmese. You know, those are a very smart breed." He replied.
Amy did a quick check of the cat. "Ha! She's a he. But, he's in pretty good shape. Just very dirty, hungry and thirsty. He'll need to see a vet."
"What are you going to name him?"
"Not sure." She looked at the man now sitting next to her in the ground. "By the way. I'm Amy Fleming." She held out her hand for him to shake which he took. His hands were calloused but his handshake firm.
"Nice to meet you Ms. Fleming. I'm Buddy Hall." He responded.
"Hmm. I think I will name him, Norton Hall. If you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all. I am pleased." He rose to his feet, then helped Amy to hers.
"I best be going. My family is going to wonder what happened to me." She smiled. "Thank you so much for your help. And, for reminding me of some really nice times in my life."
"Ms. Fleming. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again one day."
"Me too Mr. Hall."
As Amy walked away with the kitten in her arms, she heard the unmistakeable sound of the Norton starting.
Holding the kitten to chest, she unlocked the door to SUV, and got in. Exiting the parking garage, her cell phone rang.
"Hello Lisa." She put her phone on speakerphone.
"Amy. Your grandfather is with me. We just talked to Lou. Are you okay, sweetie?"
"Boy. That didn't take long." She shook her head.
"She was worried about you. So are we."
"Don't. I am fine."
"Promise? Cause we can come home."
"Promise." She said as she gently petted the kitten sleeping in her lap.
Hey Readers. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know if you did. SBR