Composing Amelia (8 page)

He just hoped God would work His miracle soon.

Amelia’s eyes kept drifting to the clock on Jill’s kitchen wall. She’d been so close to going to LAX and meeting Marcus in baggage claim, but when the time had come to leave she hadn’t been able to do it. It was the thought of the ride back into the city that had stopped her. All that time to talk—for
him
to talk, to gush about Wheatridge (as she was sure he would, given how excited he’d been about the place when they’d talked on the phone the last two nights), to try to convince her to move. She couldn’t handle it, not in public. Instead, she’d made up the dip she’d signed up to bring to dinner and had gone to Jill’s fifteen minutes late to make sure she wasn’t the first one there. They hadn’t spoken since their conversation that had gone south at the sushi bar, and Amelia had enough on her mind without adding to it by being alone with Jill.

But she’d kept track of where Marcus likely was, knowing he’d eventually show up, and she had to be prepared. Right now he was probably ten minutes out, maybe less. She couldn’t wait to see him and yet feared it at the same time. She wondered if she’d be able to read his face and know before he even spoke if he’d been offered the job. And what if she did see it written there? What would she do?

Amelia was helping someone rearrange the potluck spread on the table when a voice behind her said, “Hey, Marcus!” She caught Jill’s eye briefly, and her friend gave her a supportive half smile before Amelia turned to see Marcus. And when she saw his face she knew. It was the eyes that gave it away. The rest of his face looked tired, even uncertain. But his eyes were shining.

He spotted her immediately and dropped his duffel by the front door and crossed the room to wrap her in a hug and whisper “Hey, babe” in her ear. She’d have melted if she hadn’t seen that look in his eyes.

She let him give her a quick kiss, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone else. “I missed you,” he said when he pulled away.

“I missed you, too.” It was true, 100 percent. She had missed him terribly, even if she’d been irritated that he’d gone away in the first place. “How was the flight?”

“Oh—fine.”

“Great.” She nodded to the dining room table, where the others had already begun to serve themselves. “Come get some dinner. ”

That’s what she’d do: Keep the conversation on the periphery, and avoid a discussion about the trip until they went home. At least that way no one would see them fight. And, sadly, she was pretty sure there would be a fight.

Her plan to keep things on the surface worked perfectly until someone asked Marcus why he had the duffel. “Just got back from Nebraska,” he said.

“Nebraska? What the heck is out there?” someone else asked.

“Job interview.”

Amelia eyed Marcus carefully. She could tell he was trying to keep his excitement at bay, probably for the same reason she’d tried to steer clear of the topic. He didn’t want a public argument any more than she did.

A smattering of “Congrats” and “What for?” rained down on him, and as the discussion progressed, Amelia found her spirits buoying. Marcus didn’t mention anything about a job offer.
Thank You,
she prayed as she twirled spaghetti on a plastic fork. God had come through. Who said she wasn’t a Christian?

The dinner came to an end and guests began to leave. Amelia packed up the leftovers of her dip before everyone else had gone and they were the only couple left; she didn’t want Jill or Dane to have the chance to ask Marcus how the interview had been. After their usual “See you later,” they walked out together and headed for home. “That was fun,” Amelia said as she hooked an arm through Marcus’s, trying to keep the conversation light until they were safe in the apartment. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah.”

She elbowed him. “That wasn’t particularly enthusiastic.”

He gave her a smile. “Sorry, just … thinking.”

“About …?” She caught him staring at her after a silent moment. “What?”

“You haven’t asked me at all about the trip.”

Why was she suddenly nervous? “We talked both nights you were gone, it’s not like I didn’t get to hear about it.”

“I know, but … Come on, Amelia, I know you’re avoiding the whole thing. That’s not going to make it go away, you know.”

She smirked, though her heart was starting to pound. “No, you’re right, I can’t make an entire state disappear with the power of my mind. At least not one so big. I’ll work on Rhode Island first.”

He wasn’t laughing. “It really hurts that you don’t care at all about something that I care so much about.”

“I just don’t want to get into it here, in public.”

“Get into what? You make it sound like we’re going to have a knock-down drag-out.”

“Fine.” She dropped her hand from his arm. “It hurts me, too, that you don’t care at all about the thing
I
care about so much,” she said, eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead of them.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Maybe you don’t care about my career like I once thought you did.”

“How could you possibly say that?”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have even taken that interview.”

He muttered something under his breath. “Amelia, we’ve gone over this already.”

“I know, I know—
God
told you to go.”

“You say that as if you’re mocking me.”

“I’m not mocking you. I’m trying to explain that you’ve played the ultimate trump card. But it’s not fair. What about the fact that I believe God gave me the theater troupe gig? You’re being selfish, and you’re using God to support it.”

Marcus went quiet. Amelia gripped the Tupperware tighter as her heart sank. She had hurt him. She hadn’t meant to do that. But it was as if he wasn’t hearing her at all. She didn’t want to wound him, but she didn’t want to get walked all over, either. She didn’t know where the balance was between sticking up for herself and not being harsh when her words didn’t seem to get through.

“I’m sorry,” she said as their apartment building came into sight. Marcus said nothing, and she felt her palms begin to sweat. Great, now she was getting the silent treatment. “Really,” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m not being very nice. But … from what I gathered at dinner, it doesn’t matter … right? Maybe this week we can start looking for new job postings and––”

“Amelia.” He reached out to take hold of her arm, stopping her on the sidewalk. “I got the job.”

She was dumbfounded. She shut her mouth when she realized it was open, then shook her head, disbelieving. “They—they actually offered it to you?”

His jaw slid back and forth just slightly. “Yes,” he said, irritation tinting his tone. “They
actually
offered it to me.”

“And of course you told them no.”

“No, I didn’t. I told them I’d talk to you, and we’d pray about it and get back to them by mid-January.”

A terse laugh escaped her throat. “But we’re not going. You promised.”

“I didn’t promise we weren’t going. I promised we wouldn’t go if you didn’t want to.”

“And I don’t, so case closed.”

“No—we haven’t prayed about it.
You
haven’t prayed about it.”

Her eyes narrowed as the arrow hit her heart. “I’m getting really tired of people making assumptions about my spiritual life.”

“Well, I’m sorry. Maybe if you didn’t act so cocky people wouldn’t make assumptions.”

“Cocky?!”

She turned and headed for the apartment at double speed, knowing she couldn’t hold her tongue much longer in the face of such an insult. She heard Marcus’s steps behind her but did nothing to acknowledge him, making a beeline instead for the staircase that led to their floor as her mind turned over and over the words Marcus had spoken.
“I got the job.”

She nearly slammed the door behind her, but Marcus caught it and closed it quietly. His even-keeled emotions drove her nuts. She needed a yelling match, not some calm, logical voice of reason. She pulled off her jacket and threw it on the back of the couch. “You promised, Marcus. Don’t split hairs. If my mind was going to be changed, God would have done it by now, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” he said. “Which is why I think we should pray about it together.”

She let out a snort. “I love that you think your job is worth praying over, but when I told you I was auditioning you acted like it was no big deal.”

“I prayed about that.”

That surprised her. “You did?”

“Of course.”

She crossed her arms. “Prayed I wouldn’t get it, I’ll bet.”

His face fell, and she winced inside at the look in his eyes. “How could you say that? Of course I didn’t pray that. I prayed God would guide your career, just like I’ve been praying since the day we started dating. I prayed you’d get it if that was His will, and that He’d comfort you if you didn’t. You know I always try to support you and encourage you. How could you ever think I’d be so mean as to pray against you like that?”

Amelia had let her anger carry her too far, and she knew it. Guilt began to gnaw at her stomach. What had she prayed for Marcus? “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I—I didn’t know you did all that.”

“Of course I did,” Marcus said, sounding weary. “I love you.”

Wounded by the realization that she had never even thought to pray like that, as well as by the fear that Jill might have been on to something, Amelia struggled with what to say next. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore. But she wasn’t about to give in on Nebraska, either. She sank to the couch beside Marcus and held out her hands. “All right then,” she said, unable to soften the challenge in her voice and unwilling to meet his eyes, “let’s pray about it.”

He paused a moment, then grasped her hands tightly and began to pray aloud. Amelia listened for a moment, then tuned out his voice, knowing his words didn’t matter. Nothing was going to make her move.

Christmas Day dawned with a chill in the air that matched the mood in the Sheffield apartment. The last three days had been navigated carefully by both parties, with no mention of the decision before them outside of the twice daily prayers they said together—or rather, that Marcus said in Amelia’s presence. Amelia was counting down the days until January 18, when the theater group began rehearsals for their first show,
Pippin.
Despite it not paying enough for her to quit either of her other positions, the mere knowledge that she would soon be performing again made the less-enjoyable parts of her day far easier to bear. However, it did nothing to soothe things between her and Marcus, and that was the part of her life that most concerned her.

Amelia loved Marcus, but she wondered if he’d begun to doubt it. The way they interacted had changed so much since he’d returned from Wheatridge. She didn’t feel comfortable being herself anymore. She worried she’d inadvertently say something to hurt his feelings again. He, too, seemed guarded, more measured with his conversation, more careful with his touches.

She glanced at the clock as she woke and calculated their morning schedule. They had nearly two hours before they had to be at church, which gave them plenty of time to exchange gifts, eat breakfast, and get ready for the day—as well as time to reconnect in a more intimate way.