Page 73 of The Angel and the Agent

“I think we can both agree you’ve given me good reason this week to be a tad overprotective,” Maggie said.

“Maybe a bit, but I’m fine now, I promise. I’m done rupturing, both physically and emotionally,” Amelia said. “How was France?”

“Beautiful but totally confusing. I could definitely have used your language skills,” Maggie said.

“They kind of came in handy for me this week, too,” Amelia said.

“Oh, right the CAR and Cameroon used to be under French rule,” Maggie said.

“Your inner nerd is showing,” Amelia said.

“You’re the one with the inner nerd. Mine is on full display at all times,” Maggie said.

“Sometimes I forget,” Amelia said. “But that reminds me. You’re due for a refresh.”

“Of what?” Maggie asked.

“Everything.”

“Why can’t I find one look and stick with it forever?” Maggie asked.

“You know how Aunt Pat has a Dorothy Hamill and all her clothes have shoulder pads?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why,” Amelia said.

“Fine, but you’re going to have to fix it with Ridge. After he saw the bills from the last refresh, he turned on ESPN and went catatonic for four hours.”

“So?”

“So that’s his equivalent of eating his feelings. He didn’t want to be angry I spent so much, but he couldn’t get on board with it, either. Combining finances is tricky business. I thought I was frugal and conservative, but the man has a twenty-year plan for our spending and all these flowcharts for kids’ college and retirement and paying off our mortgage.”

“Sounds intense.”

“It is, but it’s also nice, to be taken care of, to know he’s thinking and planning for our future.”

“You guys make it look so easy,” Amelia said.

“I’m glad you think so. We love each other, and we’re best friends, but we still have to work hard on our relationship. Love’s a verb, not an automatic guarantee. We have to choose each other every day in a thousand different ways, and I’m way, way more selfish than I realized.”

“You’re not selfish at all,” Amelia protested.

“That’s because you’re not married to me. Believe me, it’s ugly. But he loves me anyway, and that’s the miracle of marriage.”

“I want to be like you when I grow up,” Amelia said.

“What a coincidence; I wish I had been like you when I was a kid,” Maggie said. “Call if you need anything. I can be here really quickly.”

“I will,” Amelia promised. They hugged once more, and Maggie left. Amelia turned on the television and drifted back to sleep. When she woke again, Ethan was leaning in the doorway, a giant sack slung over his shoulder.

“Are you starting the deliveries early this year, Santa?” she asked.

“What’s up, Snoop Dog? Are you still Willie Nelsoning it?” he asked.

“It’s possible they made my dose a tad too high yesterday,” she said. “What’s in the bag?”

“Maggie suggested I pick up a few things from your apartment.”

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