Composing Amelia (24 page)

She shook her head as she sat up and dragged the tissue against her cheeks. After some deep breaths that curbed most of the tears, she said, “It’s … It’s nothing. Never mind. I’ll get up now. How much time do I have?”

“About forty-five minutes. But … You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Amelia.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said between sniffs. “Just let me shower.” She stood, still not making eye contact with him, and pulled an outfit from the closet before leaving for the bathroom. He frowned, watching her.
What’s really going on?
he wondered. It was the second time this week he’d found her like that, obviously deeply upset, but unwilling to tell him why. He didn’t like to think she was keeping secrets from him.

Marcus went to the kitchen to pour her some coffee, figuring she’d need it this morning. The one improvement he had noticed lately was that she was eating again. Not much, but more than she had when he’d visited her in LA. He pulled a loaf of bread from the fridge, deciding to make her some toast. Peanut butter or butter and cinnamon? He went to the bathroom to ask her.

He knocked, and heard her call to come in. He opened the door and poked his head in, unable to help the smile that crossed his face when he saw her through the glass shower door. It had been a long time since he’d seen her unclothed, and he’d deeply missed the view. “I’m making you toast. What would you like on it?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Okay.” He went to shut the door, then looked in once more, paying closer attention. Her body looked … different. He shut the door again and went back to the kitchen, thinking. It was probably the weight loss. The parts of her that looked skinnier must just be making the more … curvy … parts of her look larger. Things just seemed a little out of proportion.

Unfortunately the encounter sent his thoughts on to tangents that he couldn’t afford to follow, not when he’d be greeting parishioners in an hour. He took a deep breath and blew it out pursed lips.
I can’t deal with this right now, God. Focus me on You and this sermon.

But all he could think about was how seeing her nude heightened his sexual frustration. It had been far too long since they’d been intimate—she just didn’t seem interested any longer. He prayed it was because of the depression, and not because of him.

A knock on the front door brought his thoughts out of the bedroom. Through the peephole he saw Karis and Audry standing in the hall. Audry looked adorable holding an Easter basket.

“Happy Easter,” he said as he opened the door, grateful for the distraction. He smiled down at Audry, who held up her basket. “Well, lucky you. Look at all that chocolate.”

“She asked if we could come share some with you,” Karis said with an apologetic grin.

“Aw, that’s really sweet, Audry. Thank you. Come on in.”

“We won’t make you late, will we?” Karis asked as she eyed his suit. “I know this must be a big day for you.”

“Yes, Christmas and Easter. They’re the Super Bowls of the church world.” Karis chuckled and Marcus waved them inside. “But there’s still some time before we have to leave.”

Karis’s eyebrows nudged higher. “‘We’?”

He acted casual, hoping to dispel the awkwardness. “Yes—Amelia is here now.”

A clouded look flickered over Karis’s face before she smiled. “I’d forgotten when she was coming. You must be so happy to see her. Well anyway, we’d better get going, Audry. Why don’t you give Mr. Marcus your gift and we’ll leave.”

“No, there’s no rush, really,” Marcus said as Audry began rummaging in her basket’s plastic grass. “Besides, I’d love for you to meet Amelia.”

Karis silently perched on the edge of the armchair while Audry placed foil-wrapped chocolate eggs in Marcus’s hand. Marcus couldn’t figure out why Karis was being so quiet. “So … any plans for today?” he asked, trying to draw her out.

“No, not really,” she said. “Just—oh.” She stood, one hand clasping the other against her middle as she stared over Marcus’s shoulder.

Marcus turned and smiled at Amelia, whose dress and done-up hair were a nice change from the slumming look she’d been sporting lately. “Hey, babe. This is Karis and Audry, who I told you so much about. Karis, this is my wife, Amelia.”

Karis offered a hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Marcus talks about you all the time.”

Amelia’s face was neutral as she stepped forward slowly and shook her hand. “Yes—he’s told me about you, too.”

“Well, it was lovely to meet you.” Karis placed a hand on Audry’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, we really need to go.”

“’Bye, Mr. Marcus,” Audry said as she hooked her arm through her baskets handle.

“Good-bye, Audry. ’Bye, Karis. Service starts at ten if you’d like to stop by.”

Karis smiled but didn’t look him in the eyes. “Thanks. Nice meeting you, Amelia.”

“Yes, you, too.”

Marcus shut the door. “I’m glad you two got the chance to meet,” he said. “I really think you guys will get along.”

Amelia said nothing as she walked into the kitchen. He followed her. “Amelia, are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

She set her plate of toast on the table with more force than necessary and sat down. “So that’s Karis.”

“Yes. So?”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “You didn’t tell me she looked like Nicole Kidman’s prettier younger sister.”

Marcus frowned, thinking. “Well, she looks a little like her, I guess. I never noticed.” Understanding dawned and he straightened from where he’d been leaning against the counter. “Ames, tell me you’re not jealous of her.”

“I’m not jealous of her.” Her voice was flat and unconvincing.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Marcus sat down across from her. “Seriously, babe, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Why—not your type?”

His eyes narrowed. “Not my wife.”

She licked peanut butter from her finger. “And it’s just that easy for you, huh?”

“It is, in fact.” Wait. What was that supposed to mean? “Why—isn’t it for you?”

Their eyes locked and Marcus’s blood chilled when her expression told him loud and clear that it wasn’t. She stood abruptly, dumped the rest of her toast in the trash, and headed for the front door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The ride to the church was almost completely silent. Amelia stared out her window as Marcus drove, her profile looking preoccupied and occasionally tortured. He tried not to jump to conclusions, but his imagination was having a field day concocting scenarios in which her fidelity had been tested. Was that what was bothering her? Was that why he kept catching her crying, and why she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong?

He bit back his questions. This wasn’t the right time.
After church, we’ll take that walk. If I can get her to go, that is.

The parking lot already had a handful of cars in it when they arrived. Normally only Marcus and Ed were there this early. “I’ll show you where my office is, if you want to hide out,” he said as he gathered his things from the backseat. “I need to do a meet and greet at the front door starting …” Another three cars pulled into the parking lot. “Starting now, I guess. I sit in the front right pew, right on the aisle, so when you’re ready to come into the sanctuary, just come there. I’ll put my Bible and notes there before I post myself at the door, so you’ll see where to go.”

They walked up to the front door and Ed greeted them with an enthusiastic handshake. “Good morning, Marcus. And Amelia! Such a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiled brightly, but he could tell the smile wasn’t reflecting in her eyes. He hoped Ed wouldn’t notice. “Nice to meet you, Ed. Marcus has told me a lot about you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too. I’m so glad you’re here. I hope we get a chance to hear you on the piano soon; I doubt our little Steinway has seen anyone as talented as you.”

She chuckled. “Thanks, Ed.”

“I’m going to take her to my office and then I’ll come join you,” Marcus told him. He took her hand and led her on the short walk through the building to his office. “Here’s the office key,” he said, pointing it out on his key ring before placing the keys on his desk. “Lock up when you come down.”

“All right.”

He gave her a hug and felt her tense in his arms. It broke his heart. “Amelia,” he said quietly, “I know something is wrong. I know this isn’t the right time to talk about it, when I can’t give you as much time as you might need. But this afternoon, I promise, you’ll have my full attention for as long as you want it. I hope you’ll be able to share what’s got you in so much anguish.”

She finally looked him in the eyes. “It’s that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He kissed her. “I have a stash of food in the lower drawer of the desk. Help yourself if you get hungry.”

She smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

He kissed her again, hating to leave. “All right then. Showtime. See you in a bit.” He shut the door behind him, straightened his tie in a window’s reflection, and joined Ed at the front door just in time to shake hands with a steady stream of attendees. As he traded “Happy Easters” with familiar faces, he kept a mental list of women he might introduce Amelia to after the service. Maybe if she connected with someone it would help smooth the transition to Wheatridge and make her more willing to stay once her depression had cleared. He couldn’t stand to think of her going back to California, especially if he had competition there.

When he and Ed entered the sanctuary, Marcus saw Amelia sitting where he’d told her he’d be, surrounded by three of the women Marcus had hoped she’d meet. He gave a subtle fist pump as he made his way up the aisle. “Thanks for welcoming Amelia, ladies,” he said when they greeted him. “I was hoping she’d get to meet some of you.”

“We were just talking about trying to get together for coffee sometime,” one of them said. “I know how rough it was when I first moved here, until I found some friends.” She pulled a pen from her purse and began to write on her bulletin. “Here’s my phone number and email address. Give me a call anytime; I stay home with our sons, so I’m always around.”

The other women added their information, and when Ed came by to tell Marcus they were ready to start the service, they all gave Amelia a hug. Marcus was psyched for the new connections she’d already made, but as soon as the women left for their seats he saw the animation in her face die out completely.

“What?” he said quietly as the choir filed onto the risers and Ed welcomed the congregation in his jovial way.

Amelia tucked the bulletin into the back of her Bible. “I just doubt I’ll have anything in common with any of them.”

“You never know.” He stood with the rest of the church as the congregation began to sing along with the choir.

Amelia remained seated for a moment, but then stood slowly with her eyes fixed on the choir. “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m not going to be around for long.”

Marcus continued to sing, but his heart and thoughts were conceding defeat. She wasn’t even going to give the place a chance. She really preferred being in LA even though it meant being separated from him. Was it the depression? Or was there another man?

These were not the kind of thoughts he needed right now. He wished she had just stayed home.

The rest of the morning was one frustration after the other. Marcus had looked forward to Amelia finally seeing the church. He’d hoped Amelia would see the things he loved about it—the preference for hymns over contemporary choruses, the beautiful sanctuary with its stained glass and polished oak pews—and would find herself starting to like them too. But as the service unfolded around them, he could tell she wasn’t engaged at all. She didn’t even bother pulling out a hymnal so she could sing “Nothing but the Blood” and “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” along with the choir. She stared glumly ahead when Ed stood at the front to receive and pray over the offering, not even joining in on the “amen” at the end. And the one time he allowed himself to look at her while he preached, she wasn’t even watching him. She was slouched in the pew looking totally zoned out.

By the time the service was over, Marcus’s sympathy was wearing thin. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but this service was just as powerful to these people as our church in LA is for you.”

“I don’t doubt that. I’m sure it’s great for them. It’s just not my thing. I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s not the kind of service you’re drawn to, but you could at least show some respect for the holiday and God while you’re here.”

He saw her lip quiver and didn’t know what to do. “Ames, I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right. I was totally rude. I’m sorry.” She blinked rapidly and busied herself with rearranging her Bible and purse in her arms. “I’ll go back to your office while you do … whatever it is you have to do.”

His anger was dampened some by her contriteness. “It’ll be another ten minutes or so.”

“Okay.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and headed up the aisle without him. He followed, trying to shake the irritation and frustration from his spirit. He didn’t like how angry he was, but he couldn’t help it. He knew she was depressed, but that didn’t mean she had to close herself off to Wheatridge and the church. Didn’t she care at all about how that made him feel?