Page 18 of Always There For You

“I just need to breathe,” Amelia said lamely. “I knew this would be a ton of work but you think oh, I’ve got employees, that’s all the more hands. But the weight of it is a lot some days.”

“Staggering.”

“Intensely so.”

Understanding crackled between them. Finally, Hadley gave her a slow nod and backed up a few steps. “I get it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned.”

“You’re looking out for me.”

And for some reason, that statement, as true as it was, made Hadley frown. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

That frown stayed with Amelia through the rest of the day, far into evening as they reheated leftovers and made tea. Some nights Hadley was as tired as she, but tonight felt heavier. Disappointment sat thick on Amelia’s tongue and it left her unable to do much other than listen to the rattle and purr of the sewing machine beside her while she read and scratched Mr. Buttons behind the ears.

Amelia was the first to cave. “I’m beat,” she said, standing up to let Mr. Buttons curl up in her seat. “Don’t kill your eyes, Hads.”

Hadley grinned at her and the world righted a little bit. “Nah, just finishing this one up because I promised Irene, that lady with the big poodle, that I’d bring it by this weekend.” She held up a toddler-sized bright blue corduroy vest with chunky silver buttons. “And the inside…voila!” She turned it so Amelia could see inside of the vest was patterned cotton; dove gray with blueberries and tiny white flowers.

“Okay, that’s adorable. Where the hell did you find strawberry patterned fabric?”

“My secret! No! You won’t make me give it up.”

Amelia snorted and rolled her eyes playfully at Hadley’s antics. The cowardly part of her was glad to have regular old Hadley back. Everything else in her missed flirty Hadley, testing her with subtle looks and the way she left her hair down. A tease. It really was that, right?

When that old monster doubt crept back in, Amelia figured it was best to go to bed and let her mind settle, give herself a chance to shore up the stitch lines in her heart. She left Mr. Buttons purring and Hadley sewing and trundled off to bed. She didn’t even remember dropping onto the mattress, but the crash that woke her in the night, in the dark, had Amelia scrambling for normality.

“Shit,” she said into the empty, chilly air of her room. Rain lashed at the windows and jagged lines of lightning made her blink. Thunder shook the house.

“Ames?”

Oh Hadley.

“Yeah, come in.”

Hadley was swaddled in a blanket from head to ankle, her eyes huge in the shadows of her makeshift hood. She looked small and scared and Amelia never gave it a second thought. “Sorry, I just…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” She yanked back her blankets and moved to the right. “Get in.”

The roof of Hadley’s childhood home had caved in when she was ten; hit by a tree downed in a horrible storm. Thankfully no one had been hurt, but it had come close to her bedroom and since then, storms required anxiety meds and tea and a quiet place in which to hunker down. But out here, near wilderness and in an old cottage that creaked and groaned, Hadley was likely reliving that night. Amelia’s heart clenched as Hadley rolled herself into bed but held back on curling close. “Come on, you,” she said softly, tugging on the blanket Hadley clutched. “I promise it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Your fear is justified and even if it didn’t have an anchor in something that had occurred, it wouldn’t matter.” Amelia managed to tug the blanket from Hadley’s hands and pull the end over her legs; they were sharing space but weren’t close enough for her liking. “You want to be the big spoon or little spoon?”

Hadley’s laugh was watery, but she said, “Little spoon. I need your strong arms around me.”

Amelia bit back a smile and let Hadley shift around. Getting comfortable - and extricated from the various blankets - took a minute, but she soon had an armful of her best friend. Curled up close, their bodies molded together. Hadley’s soft, jasmine-scented hair tickling her nose. Nothing could have made her move. Not a storm, not an earthquake, not the frantic, traitorous beating of her heart.

Especially not when she got up the courage to ask what weighed on her, with hope heavy on her tongue. “Hey Hadley?”

“Hmm?”

“Better?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Thank you.”

“Always.” Amelia snuggled closer. Took a deep breath. “Hadley?”

“Yeah?”

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