Working Fire

Amelia pulled her jacket up to her chin and pushed herself lower on the bench. Besides hiding from the chill in the air, she was also hiding from any prying eyes. Last thing she needed was Steve to see her there and bypass the meeting altogether. Or even worse, guess why she was at the park to begin with. She checked her dying phone one more time. Seven minutes late. Steve was usually so punctual. Maybe this was the wrong fountain in the wrong park. Maybe there was some other town between Broadlands and Staltsman with a fountain, coffee shop, and hot dog stand. She pushed the Off button on the side of the phone and shoved it into her coat pocket. Three more minutes and then she’d give up. This was getting ridiculous.

With another glance over her shoulder at an empty fountain, Amelia picked at the peeling burgundy polish on her fingernails, all that was left of the makeshift spa night Ellie had put together two weeks ago. Every time she walked into the upstairs bathroom and passed by the nail polish remover, she considered cleaning them off for real, but there was never time. Amelia shook her head. Never time, yet she was wasting half an hour sitting on a bench stalking her husband? Ugh. She was being silly.

Amelia sat up straight and rubbed her cold hands against her thighs. Well, that’s enough of that, she thought, and went to stand up, when she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye by the fountain—a flash of yellow and red and white. She froze.

A woman with long, styled blonde hair was carrying a tray with two white travel coffee cups. She glanced around the circle and then looked down at the edge of the fountain as if considering sitting down. Then she stepped back as though sitting on that damp concrete would be the most disgusting experience of her life.

As the woman turned to scan the park, Amelia finally saw her face. With the throwback, almost eighties-esque hairdo, she’d hoped for an older woman, a lady stuck in her glory days who wore blue eyeliner and gel bracelets. But all hope of antiquity disappeared when she came into focus. “Suze” was a bombshell. Midtwenties, fine bone structure, big blue eyes, pretty much the stereotypical hottie.

Dang it, Amelia would cheat on herself with Suze. At that exact moment, Steve turned the corner off the path on the opposite side of the park. Amelia put her hand up over her face, questioning for the millionth time what she was doing there.

Steve walked briskly across the park, waving as he approached the mystery woman, a brown oil-stained bag in his left hand. When they finally met, they greeted each other with a quick side hug that made some of the tension in Amelia’s shoulders lift. One good sign at least.

The pair started chatting, and two giggles and three casual touches later, they’d settled on a bench on the right side of the disabled water feature. Amelia, still trying to explain away the physical contact, strained to hear any hint of what they were discussing, but nothing carried across the park. She squinted, willing to give lipreading a shot instead, when the bench creaked as someone slid down on the seat beside her. Amelia spun around so fast, her ponytail slapped against her face. A little stunned, heart racing, she saw Caleb looking back at her.

“Caleb! You scared me.” She slapped his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“Saw you sitting here in the cold and thought I’d say hi.”

“What? ’Cause we don’t see each other enough at home?” She glanced over her shoulder again just in time to see Suze laugh broadly.

Caleb shifted from side to side, crossing his arms across his chest, a little smirk working its way up his cheek. The wrinkle by his eye was the same, the texture of his skin was somewhat familiar, all reminding her of seventeen-year-old Caleb.

“Nope, never,” he said, chuckling. “You looked like you needed someone to talk to.” Distracted, Amelia just grunted, trying to not watch and also to definitely watch Steve at the same time. Caleb followed her eye line to the pair across the park. He let out a low “Hm” before facing forward, his ungloved hands resting on the tops of his thighs.

Amelia’s cheeks flashed hot, the embarrassed heat spreading to the tops of her ears. Caleb had figured her out. Of course he had. That’s what he was best at—seeing what was really going on inside Amelia. She closed her eyes, annoyed at herself more than at the man sitting by her side as she ran through ways to explain what she’d been doing spying on her husband. But Caleb spoke first.

“You okay, M?” The question was so simple, so straightforward, that it should’ve been easy to answer. But it wasn’t.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat that she had to cough to clear. Was she okay? Where to start? Maybe with the fact that she’d been running faster than she was able for the past six months and that she didn’t see any end to the race. Or that her husband was having some sort of meeting with a beautiful young woman just twenty feet away from where they were sitting. Yeah. There was that too.

“I’m fine. I . . . I just needed some fresh air.”

“Hm . . . ,” he said again, the knowing sound irritating Amelia. “So, are you waiting for Steve or something?”

Amelia’s eyes opened slowly, and she swallowed down the emotion creeping up and out her mouth. Without hesitating any further, she put on her “I’m great” face.

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t know he was going to be here. Just went for a little walk and . . .”

“It’s not what it looks like, the two of them over there. You shouldn’t worry.”

“Caleb, stop. I don’t think it looks like anything. I’m not worried . . . I’m just . . .” She checked over her shoulder again. Steve was wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. A sudden pressure on her nearly frozen hand drew her attention back to Caleb. His hand was covering hers. It was warm and comforting and familiar but very unexpected. Also . . . unnerving.

“Amelia, I need to talk to you about something important. Something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” His grip tightened, and a sudden panic filled Amelia, making her skin tingle like ants were crawling up and down her arm. There was an urgent edge to his appeal, like he was either going to tell her the secrets of the universe or declare his undying love. Since she was pretty sure Caleb was not in possession of the secrets of the universe, undying love seemed far more likely. Her concerns about Steve and “Suze” dropped away in one sudden whoosh, Caleb finally coming into focus.

His face tense, he was staring at her hand in his and seemed to be considering his next words carefully. Amelia opened her mouth, closed it again, and then tugged against his grip.

“I should really go.” She pulled harder, feeling like an animal with its leg stuck in a bear trap. The picture in the car, his constant presence at their home, the kids’ activities, family outings, the way he blushed and stuttered every time their hands met—she’d always known deep down how he felt about her, but this, saying it out loud, taking her hand, being so forward. It changed everything.

“Stop,” he said, holding on tighter. “I need to tell you. I can’t bear it any longer. M. Stop.” His fingernails were starting to dig into the back of her hand.

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