Page 9 of The Ex Next Door (Charming, Texas #8)

“E veryone wants experience with software accounting programs I don’t know anything about,” Amy said.

Not much demand for those users of home-based accounting systems or basic Excel spreadsheets. That was one requirement for many of these positions, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. They wanted so much more.

“Do you enjoy accounting?” her mother asked.

Mom had come over to help unpack the last of the boxes. After a week, there were still boxes filled with books, knickknacks and all her children’s homemade treasures. She would probably now store those due to lack of space.

It wasn’t that Amy loved accounting; that was beside the point. It seemed to be the best-paying skill she could use from her years of being home.

“I’m not qualified for much else. There aren’t even many receptionist jobs. I could answer phones and greet people but that’s all mostly automated now.”

“There are a few places left that still prefer the human touch. I’ll ask my hairdresser if she could use a backup receptionist.”

“Okay.”

She had time, but Amy felt discouraged at every turn.

Secretary positions at law firms wanted someone who had her paralegal certificate, too.

Some preferred someone with a law degree who was working on passing the bar.

And every job, from clerical to entry-level sales, required a college degree. At least she had that.

Last night, Amy had further investigated the requirements needed to be a credentialed teacher in Texas, and found it would only take her a few months to complete them.

There were some districts in the state so desperate for teachers that with her bachelor’s degree in hand, she could start working right away while going through the process.

Dallas was one of those cities. Charming was not.

She was not moving to Dallas.

The situation wasn’t as desperate as one would think, even if Rob would object to her waiting four to six months to start work as a teacher.

She remembered that she wanted to make decisions from this point forward based on her own desires.

Yes, she would prefer to teach. It had always been the dream before she married.

She would also like to start contributing financially and stop feeling like one of Rob’s responsibilities.

It was time to break away from him and truly be on her own but it was easier said than done.

Without another thought, Amy filled out the information and sent for the packet to begin the process of becoming credentialed.

It didn’t matter whether or not Rob liked it, she was doing this.

If she could find another job in the meantime, she’d do that, too.

Amy felt so good about this, she closed her laptop and stretched.

It was satisfying to be on the way to something new and possibly exciting. Her brand-new life.

“I did it,” she told Mom.

“Another interview?”

“Nope. But that will come, I hope. I’m applying to become a teacher.”

Mom’s smile was ear to ear. “Honey! That’s wonderful. It’s what you always wanted, and I don’t see why you can’t be a teacher. Don’t forget—one day you’ll look around and realize that all along you were blooming.”

Amy ignored that latest flower metaphor.

“I won’t make much money but hopefully enough to help take care of us. It’s going to take me a few months to get through the process, and then I’ll have to find a job in our district, which might take a little time.”

“Perfect. You and the kids will both go to school every day. Summers off. It’s ideal.”

Amy held up a palm. “Don’t tell the kids. To them, six months is a lifetime. I’ll probably have to find another job until then anyway. Just something temporary.”

The boardwalk was always busy during the summer months, and maybe she could swallow the little pride she had left and dispense kettle corn at the Lazy Mazy counter or saltwater taffy at one of the gift shops.

Minimum wage wouldn’t cover her half of childcare, but her mother could help some days since she was down to part-time hours at the post office.

Naomi burst through the screen door and it slapped on its hinges.

“Mommy! I found a little girl that wants to be my friend. Her name is Ruby. Can we play?”

Surprisingly, her least-outgoing child had found the neighborhood friend first. “Sure, but play here until I meet her mother.”

“Her mom’s at work, but her babysitter said okay!” Naomi ran back. “Ruby! My mommy says it’s fine!”

Amy exchanged a smile with her mother, as the two girls bounced in and whizzed by her into Naomi’s room.

“Where’s David?” Amy asked.

He’d been playing a video game when she’d started her online job search.

“He’s outside, too. Kicking around that soccer ball but not looking too happy while doing it,” Mom said, peering out the window to the front yard.

“What do you think? Should I let him quit?” Amy didn’t know what to do here.

On the one hand, he seemed miserable with soccer, and on the other one, Matthew had been bugging him about joining the baseball rec league. David said he’d like to try baseball instead. It seemed the ideal situation.

“I’ve never subscribed to the theory that a child who’s miserable should be forced to finish what he started just for the sake of finishing,” her mother said.

“I should probably go talk to him.”

Amy stopped mid-step when she noticed David having crossed their shared lawn, holding his soccer ball under one arm, engaged in conversation with Declan.

Should she interrupt? It appeared so earnest, with Declan lowering himself in a half crouch to meet David’s eyes.

The moment made her mind buzz with a sudden remembrance of Declan coaching some of the kids when they’d both volunteered summers with underprivileged kids from inner cities.

He’d taught them sports. She’d worked with kids on math skills and science.

She’d often witnessed teenage Declan in that same crouching earnest position giving a kid some inspirational nugget of wisdom. Now it was her own son.

These moments of nostalgia had to stop!

“He’s talking to Declan right now,” Amy said out loud.

Mom looked up but didn’t say a word.

Amy smiled. “Mom? No comment? Should I go stop him from talking to David?”

Mom lowered her head and folded another sheet.

“I don’t know. The other day, I pulled out some old photos of you two and I remembered that your father liked him for one important reason.

The way he treated you. Whether or not you two wound up together, I guess I can’t really hate him anymore. He was a good kid.”

“You should have never hated him.”

“I just hated the way I saw you hurting after you broke up. But, as you said, it’s ancient history.”

“He’s been helpful so far. I don’t see why I can’t let him give David some advice about soccer.”

Amy went about her business emptying the dishwasher and organizing her shelf space. Twenty minutes or so later, David walked back inside. He set his soccer ball down and came in the kitchen to join Amy and her mom.

“Can I have a snack?”

“Sure.” Amy whipped up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and set it in front of her son. “Did Mr. Sheridan give you some good advice about soccer?”

“Who’s Mr. Sheridan?”

“Oh, um, our neighbor. Declan. He’s Declan Sheridan.”

“He said his name is Declan and that’s what I should call him.” David took a bite of the sandwich and swallowed it with some milk. “I’m quitting soccer. Declan said it was a good idea.”

“W-what? What do you mean you’re quitting soccer? We talked about this.”

“I know, but Dad said I could quit if I wanted to, and now Declan said I should. He said soccer isn’t really a sport anyway, ’cept in England. They call it football over there. Isn’t that funny?” David chuckled.

Amy didn’t think any of this was funny at all.

A sport only in England? Um, how about the rest of Europe and South America?

Outrage burned through her. Teenage Declan used to spout words of encouragement to kids who wanted to play sports.

But he’d just told her son, her boy, to give up.

Just because something was too tough. Oh hell no, this was not going to happen.

She was in charge over here. As for Rob, she’d deal with him later.

“I’ll be right back.”

This time the screen door slapped on its hinges with enough force to make them whistle, and Amy marched next door to knock on Declan’s front door.

* * *

Declan opened his door to Amy. She was dressed in tight jeans and a snug T-shirt, her hair down around her shoulders.

It was longer than he’d ever seen it before and still had the same waves it always had.

Her hair, as always, was as shiny as a copper penny and he wondered if it still smelled like apples.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Amy said, with zero preamble.

He waved her inside. “Come on in.”

She probably needed help with something like a clogged sink.

He was ready to do his duty, and not only because his father would no doubt at some point ask him about his project.

The truth was he enjoyed helping kids. Plus, Amy and her children as neighbors happened to be a great improvement to the previous tenants, a middle-aged couple who fought all day and “made up” all night.

Her little boy was a smart kid, easy to talk to. He reminded Declan of Amy, but then so did her little girl.

“What’s up?”

“Did you tell David he should quit soccer?”

Ah, well, she was getting right to it. This was just one of the many ways he was helping Amy.

Soccer was a useless sport in the United States.

I mean, c’mon. If you didn’t play baseball, you had only two other choices: basketball and football.

But everybody knew baseball was the holy grail.

The king. The all-American sport. David knew what he wanted, anyway.

All Declan did was nudge him a little. David wanted a good excuse to quit because he hated the game.

He’d told Declan he wasn’t any good with his feet, and what was wrong with putting his hands on a ball, anyway?

“He told me he hates soccer,” Declan said.

Amy crossed her arms. “Regardless, we had decided he would stick with it.”

“Yeah, he told me that’s what you decided, but he’s the one forced to kick a ball around the field.”

“Declan, would your father have let you quit baseball?”

Probably not, but that wasn’t the point. His father nurtured the desire he saw in Declan in the first place.

“I never wanted to quit baseball,” Declan lied. “I loved baseball.”

Point being, he had loved baseball until it stopped being fun.

Until it started to be all about expectations instead of love of the game.

Even then it took years to beat it out of him.

He hated to see a kid like David forced to play a sport he didn’t even like when he was still only a kid.

If Declan had sensed any kind of desire to improve, he’d like to think he would have encouraged that. Even if it was, you know… soccer .

“You got good at baseball because you stuck with it. Which is all I want for David. How can he know if he’s any good at it if he doesn’t give it a real try?”

“He did try. Don’t you want him to have fun with the sport?”

He understood some parents started pursuing the scholarships early on but that didn’t sound like the Amy he knew.

“That’s all I want for him.”

“Well, he’s not having fun. And after talking to him, I don’t think it’s because he isn’t giving it his best efforts. It’s because soccer just isn’t for him, apparently.”

“But… He had fun at first, and he wanted to do this.”

“Well, that’s changed. He talked to me about how he’s been doing. Even his coach thinks he should give up.”

Amy stared at him blankly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. A kid needs to be encouraged by his coach.”

Just the idea a coach would have said that to the kid enraged Declan. His father would have words with the man.

“I had no idea his coach said that. Now I’m mad.”

“Well, there you go. A good coach makes all the difference. Listen. Why don’t you let him play baseball? That’s a real sport.”

“It’s your sport, so no wonder you prefer it.”

“It’s America’s sport, Amy. America. ”

She cocked her head and smiled. “I see. Baseball, hot dogs and apple pie. I think I know the song. And your preference for the sport has nothing to do with your storied history?”

“It’s a great game. The best. I stopped playing because I didn’t have what it took for the long haul.”

“But you did.” She studied him, sincerely assessing him, it seemed. Probably because she knew too much. “You always had what it takes.”

He changed the subject. “There’s a rec league, so why not do that and see how he likes it? It’s not exactly Little League.”

“That’s the second time someone told me about this, but I don’t think I can sign him up. I’ll be working as soon as I can find a job, and I can’t count on Rob. He travels so much. Bianca said she would help but she’s on the other side of town now. It’s asking a lot.”

“I can do it. All you had to do was ask.”

She blinked. “Why would I ask you?”

“Because we’re old friends, I’m your neighbor, a baseball enthusiast and former teacher, player and coach.” He held both palms out in an “I give up” gesture. “Other than that, no reason I can think of at all.”

Amy snorted. “Okay, I think you’ve made your point.”

“Take advantage of the fact I’m right next door.”

“Yeah? And what will your girlfriend say about you helping your ex-girlfriend?”

“Are you kidding? It won’t bother her at all.”

The truth was that Samantha probably wouldn’t like it very much but that wasn’t going to stop him from helping David. This was about the kid, not Declan and Amy.

They were ancient history.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

And then, “history” walked out the door, sashaying her butt, leaving Declan to swallow hard and wonder far too much about how history tended to repeat itself.