Page 69 of Knowing Amelia

“Good. After dinner, we’re going out. Have you been to Ruthie’s?”

“Seriously?” I breathe out a laugh. “Did you actually ask me that? Logan, if you haven’t taken me there, I haven’t been.”

His lips peek into a grin until that beautiful dimple makes its appearance.

“So, Ruthie’s? What is this place? How do you plan to distract me?”

A devilish look crosses his angelic face. “Karaoke.”

Twenty-Six

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?” I choke on nothing—just saliva and the impossible words I’m speaking. “Mom, Ben should absolutely know that I broke up with him.” I shift my used, cordless, landline phone from the thrift store to my other ear.

“He doesn’t, Liv. I’m certain. He’s the same old Ben, happy as can be, joining your father at work every day. Acting like the world is fine.” Worry laces her words. “But Livy, isn’t this hasty? I’m fine with you being in Rendezvous, but breaking up with Benjamin? He’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

“Is he?” I say the words out loud, more for myself than for Mom. Or is he who Dad wanted for me? Did Benjamin make me think I wanted him? Because the longer we’re apart, the more alive I feel.

“You’re not happy?”

“I am now. I thought I was before, but I’m starting to realize I was settling. I don’t love Ben. I thought he made sense. He made you and Dad happy.” I never realized how different we are, how often he made me feel small, until I decided to stay in Rendezvous.

“I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. I wish I had more answers.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to have the answers, Mom. I think that’s the point. I need to find my own answers.”

“That sounds wise.”

“Well, I’m learning a few things.”

“In Rendezvous?” she says, and I’m not sure if she’s questioning my sanity or if it’s just a question.

“Yes. I know this place is small and quiet⁠—”

“With not a lot of experiences to be had,” she adds.

“I’m experiencing plenty,” I say.

“Is that so?” I wish I could see my mother’s face. She’s always understood more than we give her credit for.

“Yes. I’m substitute teaching and making friends and—well, I have plans tonight that include new experiences. Ones I should probably go get ready for.”

I have never, in twenty-two years, had the desire to frighten people with my singing voice. Logan has one thing right: the thought of karaoke is making me forget all about substituting.

I should have refused his offer, but then he asked me out—officially—like a date, and I didn’t want to say no.

Logan and I live in this beautiful, strange land of non-complicated, at least when it’s just the two of us. So, I don’t stress or overthink when knocking on his front door.

He’s showered and changed from his work clothes into clean blue jeans and a plain, black button-up shirt. The smell of strawberry shampoo wafts from his wet hair, as if I’m standing in a field of my favorite fruit. There’s a faint scent of motor oil mixed with cedar soap. It’s intoxicating.

But I don’t let Logan’s scent distract me from my mission. “Is that what you’re wearing?” I ask, standing in his doorway.

“Yeah.” He moves to the side, giving me space to enter. But I’m still getting ready.

I nod, assessing him more than necessary. “Just figuring out my wardrobe. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, Liv,” he says, and I pause my exit. “Did you talk to your mom?”

“I did.” I lean against the doorframe. “I’m glad I called. She’s been worried.”