Connected by Jim l

Connected

KATHRYN!A.!LYTLE

ISBN: 1456378643 ISBN-13:978-1456378646

For my wonderful husband Phil, who encouraged me to follow my dream and supported me every step of the way! I love you!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS It wasn't all that long ago that my dream of someday writing a novel was buried in the back corner of my mind. I truly never thought it would come to fruition. When I lost my job, my dream was unearthed. I blew the dust off of it and brought it back to life. Throughout this journey, I have learned so much about writing and who I am as an author. And I've met some amazing authors along the way. I would like to thank my wonderful teacher, Gail Sweet, and my classmates for their suggestions and editing help. I would especially like to thank Katie Memmel for editing my manuscript not once but twice. I couldn't have done this without all of you!

CHAPTER!1

The two were definitely on their first date, Amanda decided. They were sitting too far apart to be an established couple. The woman was impeccably dressed, no doubt having spent hours carefully choosing an ensemble that would make the right impression. Her ginger hair was pinned back, with a few intentional wisps resting loosely around her face. She was leaning toward him as if she were hanging on every word he was saying. The man was wearing a crisp white shirt with a blue and yellow necktie. He had a wide smile and perfect teeth and he was nervously fingering his napkin as he spoke. Matt had been talking for the last 15 minutes about some big case he was working on. Amanda wasn't really listening. It wasn't that she didn't care about his job. But she didn't find corporate law all that fascinating. Actually, she was completely bored by it. She'd been listening to him talk about his job for 20 years and she still didn't understand it. But she was fascinated by the young couple she could see just over Mattâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shoulder. She missed those early days of dating. She remembered hanging on Matt's every word and getting excited before each date because she knew sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d learn something new about him. 1

Now, she knew everything about him. Now, she didn't hang on his every word, but rather wished he would stop talking. She hated feeling that way. She loved him, she truly did. But something was missing - passion, tenderness, longing, excitement - and she didn’t know how to get it back. All the things they once had were somehow left behind in the wake of Matt's career, and in the trail of tears over their shared tragedy. “Are you even listening?” she heard him say. “Of course,” she said. “Davidson backed off the case and has you doing all the work because he and the client don't get along.” Matt looked at her suspiciously, obviously wondering how her mind could possibly be in two places at once. It was true; Amanda had perfected the art of hearing Matt talk while simultaneously escaping within her own mind. After dinner, the two of them went in opposite directions, as was the case with most things in their lives. Matt left to go back to the office and Amanda headed for home. She knew he wouldn't be home until long after she fell asleep. Sometimes he slept in the spare room to avoid waking her up when he came home so late. She used to wish he would just wake her up. Amanda drove home as the sun was setting. The house was quiet, as usual. Sometimes the silence was overwhelming. The house had been their dream home. They had spent months poring over blueprints, searching through magazines for ideas, until finally she and Matt agreed on what they wanted. They'd planned on having at least three children so they built it large enough to comfortably accommodate a family that size. Matt was one of seven children and grew up in a tiny cape cod, everyone always tripping over one another, never a moment of privacy. He was determined to make things better for his family, and his salary was large enough to make that happen. But now, 18 years later, Amanda wished the house was smaller so that maybe she wouldn’t feel quite so alone.

She walked into the great room, an open, spacious area with high ceilings and soaring windows. It had always been her favorite room in the house. The huge bay window faced a backyard she diligently tended herself. Her pride and joy was her butterfly garden, bursting with zinnias, marigolds, petunias, and shasta daisies. An arbor, covered with climbing purple wisteria, created a breathtaking entrance to the garden, and a stone path snaked through the middle of it. There was a bench on one side of the path and a lovely mosaic bird bath on the other. Nestled among the thriving blooms was a simple gray stone engraved with a butterfly and a single word: Remember. She’d spent countless hours digging, planting, and weeding - a labor of love, she'd told Matt when he asked her why she was bothering with it. He hadn’t understood, of course. She opened the computer armoire, sat down and checked her email. Then she logged onto her Connect page. Sandy, an old friend from high school, had convinced her to sign up for Connect, a social networking website that was supposed to help people find old friends and stay in touch. She didn't check her page more than a few times a month and she noticed she had four new friend requests. She accepted the first two requests, a friend from high school and a former co-worker. The third was someone she had never met, so she declined. The fourth was Michael Alexander. She let go of the mouse and sat back in her chair, staring at the name on the screen. Mike had been her first. Her first serious boyfriend, her first lover, her first broken heart. She hadn't allowed herself to think of him in years. She hadn't seen him since she’d watched him drive away from her apartment 25 years earlier. Even now, she could still see his beat up Ford, through the rain-spattered window, chugging down the street and out of her life. She placed her hand back on the mouse and watched the cursor hover over the “accept” button. All she had to do was

press the button and he would be her friend. If only it were that easy in real life. “Oh, what the hell,” she said and clicked the accept button. Immediately she wondered if she’d made a mistake. She knew that reconnecting with an old flame could be dangerous, but she also missed the friendship she and Mike had shared long before they became an item. Several minutes later, after she had navigated to another website, she heard her computer chime and realized she had left her Connect page open in the background. She had an instant message. And it was from Mike. “What's shakin', Amanda Lankin?” it said on the screen. Amanda laughed out loud. This was the greeting Mike had used with her from the very first time he was introduced to her. “I'm doing well, how are you?” she typed, and then immediately deleted it, shaking her head at how ridiculous it sounded. “So you tracked me down. You always were the stalker type,” she wrote, and then punctuated it with a cyber smiley face so he would know she was kidding. “Yep,” he responded. “Guilty as charged. I'm right outside your house.” “Very funny. How the heck are you?” “Doing well. You? Happily married or happily divorced?” Amanda paused a moment before remembering she had listed her name as Amanda Lankin-Devorak so that friends who had only known her by her maiden name could easily find her. “Married,” she wrote, wondering if he would notice she had left off the word “happily.” “And you?” she asked. “Happily divorced,” he responded. “Kids?” Amanda sat back, pondering her answer. When you lose your only child, do you then tell people you don't have

children when they ask? Or do you tell them the whole story, whether they want to know or not? “I had a daughter,” she finally wrote and wondered if he would read “had” as “have.” He didn't respond immediately, and when he finally did he simply answered, “I'm sorry,” and she knew he got it. “How about you?” she asked. “No. Tried and failed. I guess it wasn't meant to be.” “I'm sorry, too.” “Tell me about you,” Mike wrote. Amanda sat back in her chair, contemplating what to type. She didn’t know what to say to this man she hadn’t seen in 25 years. How much should she tell him? How much did he want to know? “Sorry,” he wrote back a moment later. “Didn't mean to pry.” “That's okay. I don't lead a terribly exciting life.” “Oh, shoot. I have to go,” he wrote back. “Thought I had more time. Meeting in 20 minutes. Great catching up with you, Mandy. I've missed you. Chat tomorrow?” “I'll log on if I'm home,” she replied, not wanting to make a promise she couldn't keep. They both logged off and Amanda sat staring at the screen for several minutes. Did he really want to chat again or was that something he was just saying to be polite? Hours later, after Amanda was already asleep in bed, Matt came in. She felt the bed move as he climbed into it and she rolled over to face him. “Sorry,” he grumbled. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” “It's okay,” she said. Matt leaned over to give her the usual goodnight kiss on the forehead and she took his face in her hands, kissing him on the lips. He pulled away, mumbled “goodnight” and rolled the other way. Wide awake now, Amanda sat up in bed.

“Is this how it's going to be for the rest of our lives?” she asked, not even sure if she was asking Matt, God, or no one in particular. “What?” he asked, rolling toward her again. “This! We're roommates, Matt! I don't even feel like we're married anymore.” “Stop being ridiculous, Amanda. I'm tired. I want to go to sleep.” “Maybe one of these nights you could pencil me into your schedule,” she snapped, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I took you to dinner. What more do you want?” Amanda shook her head. “I want my husband back.” “You're being dramatic,” Matt said flatly. “And you're being an ass.” She stood up and stormed out of the room. Years ago, when they were first married, he would have gone after her. He wouldn't have been able to sleep with angry words hanging between them. They would have stayed up until the wee hours of the morning until it was settled, and then they would have made love, a final display of forgiveness. But things had changed. Amanda marched angrily to the great room and sat down in front of the computer. She tapped the mouse and watched as the monitor came to life, casting shadows on the walls and furniture. She logged onto her Connect page again, checked the corner chat box and saw that Mike was her only friend who was logged in. “It's tomorrow,” she wrote, noting it was now after midnight. “Hey,” he wrote back. “You okay?” “Having a rough night,” she responded. “Sorry to hear that,” he wrote. “How was your meeting?” she asked, trying to distract herself from her anger.

“The usual.” “What do you do that you have meetings so late in the day?” “Well,” he replied. “I used to get drunk. A lot. Now I run AA meetings in a church basement three nights a week.” Amanda was a bit surprised at his confession. She wondered if his drinking had led to his divorce or if his divorce had led to his drinking. Or maybe it was neither. “So what do you do for a living?” she asked, not knowing how else to respond. “Oh, it's terribly exciting,” he said. “I'm not sure you can handle knowing.” Amanda laughed. “Ooh, a man of mystery,” she responded. “Secret agent? Private detective?” “Okay, so maybe being an accountant isn't all that exciting,” he wrote back. “It's an honest living.” “So what's got you up so late, Amanda Lankin?” “Couldn't sleep.” “Man trouble?” Amanda didn't know what to say. It was one thing to admit to herself that her marriage was in trouble, but to say it to someone else was an entirely different thing. “Well, you know how men are,” she replied, ambiguously. “We're insensitive bastards,” he wrote back and she smirked. “Well, as long as you realize that.” “Hey, I was just trying to make you feel better. You didn't have to agree with me.” They made small talk for a few more minutes, neither one revealing too much, and then Amanda signed off and went back to bed. Matt didn’t move a muscle when she climbed into bed next to him, but she hadn’t expected him to. He worked hard, she knew that. He put in a lot of hours and came home exhausted

nearly every night. She knew she shouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be so hard on him, but she was lonely and she missed what they had once been to each other. She finally fell asleep and when she woke in the morning, Matt had already left for the day without waking her to say goodbye.