“Finish that problem.” Amber taps her finger on the sheet.
“He wasn’t hurt.”
“This time.” Amber flashes Bree a look. Bree picks up the pencil and quickly scratches down the answer to the problem.
“There.” She pushes the paper back to her mother. Amber shuffles the stack together.
“Everybody makes mistakes,” Bree says before slurping up the rest of the milk from the bottom of her bowl.
Amber feels it best just to be direct and honest. It worked with the house news. Perhaps Bree will take this just as well. “Bree, I’ve decided that I’m not going to see Cody anymore. And I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore, either.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just not a good idea.”
“What about kart club?”
“No more karts.” Amber grabs Bree’s cereal bowl and slides from the table. “Now. Grab your things. We have to get going.”
“Wait. Why can’t we see him?” Bree’s face fills with confusion.
“Cody is a nice person, but he has a dangerous job.”
“So what? Dad had a dangerous job.”
It punches Amber in the gut. Yeah, and he didn’t come back to us. “Cody’ll be leaving Clarksville pretty soon. It’s best we focus on other things.”
“I don’t understand why we can’t just be friends till he leaves.”
“Get your things.” Bree stares at her. “Go. Come on. Chop-chop.”
Bree rushes out. Amber places the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and throws a few things together for Bree’s lunch. She heads to the foyer for her purse and Bree’s backpack.
“Bree! Let’s go. We’re gonna be late!” Amber calls up the stairs just as Bree’s pigtailed mop appears at the top with her pink helmet tucked under one arm. It’s gonna be a fight.
“You can leave that here, young lady. You’re not going to kart club today.”
“Just because you don’t want to see Cody doesn’t mean I don’t,” Bree huffs back at her.
“I’m picking you up after school, and that’s that.”
Bree stands defiantly on the top step.
“But we’re doing test-drives today,” Bree begins to whine.
“Put the helmet down and get down here.” Amber jabs her arms into her jean jacket and slings her purse over her shoulder. “We have to go.”
“I want to drive my kart!”
“I said no.”
“I’m going!” Bree clutches her helmet to her chest. Amber marches up the steps. Bree doesn’t budge.
“Put it down.” Amber points to the wooden bench in the hallway.
“No.” Bree moves off the steps into the hallway, away from her mother.
“Let. It. Go.” Amber reaches over and tries to pry the helmet from her grip.
“Mom! Noooo!” She eludes her mother’s grasp and in retaliation throws the helmet across the floor. It rolls into the wall with a thud and makes a small dent in the plaster.
“Now look what you did!”
Bree flails herself down the stairs. Worried that she’ll misstep, Amber hastens after her daughter. Bree flies out the door without her backpack. Through the stained-glass window in the old oak front door, Amber can see Bree making a beeline for their van.
That went well. She sighs and grabs Bree’s backpack, locking the door as she exits.
As Amber sails down the front sidewalk, something planted in the yard catches her eye. She marches across the lawn and finds it’s a large sign announcing: PUBLIC AUCTION—FORECLOSED PROPERTY. Amber explodes, ripping it out of the ground and sending it across the yard.
“Amber?”
She spins around to see Patti strolling up the sidewalk. Where has she come from all of a sudden? And why does she always look so amazingly put together?
“Hi, Patti.”
“I was on this side of town making a MyWay delivery when I drove by and saw this sign.”
“I . . . we . . . we’re on our way, actually,” Amber replies impatiently as she steps toward the van. Patti looks into the van and sees Bree pouting in the rear seat. She gives a little wave, and Bree waves back; her frown stays put, and so does she.
“You’re losing your house, Amber,” states Patti.
“I did everything I could, Patti.”
“Everything? Really? You’re spending your time running around town with Cody Jackson, some fly-by-night. How is that doing everything?”
Something inside Amber gives way.
“Enough. Okay? What is it you want?” Amber is a three-count away from unleashing a tirade on Patti.
“No grandchild of mine is going to be out on the streets.”
“Don’t be extreme.”
“What’s your plan, then? I’ve asked you before, and I get nothing. So what am I to assume?”
“I’m working it out. Don’t worry.” But Amber is sure that her worried face and Patti’s worried face are the causes for Bree’s brow wrinkling with worry in the van window.
“Why don’t I take Bree for a while? Just until you can get things straightened out.”
“What? No . . . Patti . . .” Amber stops herself from marching Patti off her lawn and runs her fingers through her hair in exasperation. That’s when Patti gasps. Amber jerks her eyes to see what’s wrong. Patti looks aghast as she reaches for Amber’s left hand.
“Where’s Darren’s ring?”
Oh, that eagle eye! Amber does not owe her an answer and snaps her hand back from Patti’s grasp. Without missing a beat, Patti jumps in with her know-it-all reply.
“You took it off for Cody, didn’t you?”
“Patti, no. Please. It has nothing to do with Cody.”
“Then where is it?”
“None of your business.” It slips right out, sounding so schoolgirl-like.
“You better believe it’s my business. That was my mother’s ring!” Patti’s indignant look meets Amber’s reddening face. She had indeed completely forgotten. And she pawned Darren’s grandma’s ring. His favorite grandparent. The one he went to visit every Sunday. The one who came to every one of his football games until she got sick. The one he had escorted down the aisle at their wedding to be seated in the position of honor alongside Patti. It was her last outing before she passed. How could Amber have let that important detail escape her? Darren, forgive me. Please.
“You sold it,” Patti says in disbelief. “You actually sold it. That’s what you meant when you said you did everything. Oh, Amber. I don’t even know what to say.”
Amber feels the weight of Patti’s disappointment, but she holds her tongue, defaulting instead to a defensive stance. “I’m sorry. I had to. I’ve lost everything, Patti.”
Patti glances at Bree, who’s watching bug-eyed from the backseat of the van. “Not everything.” Her heels click down the sidewalk back to her car.
Amber gets into the van and tosses Bree’s backpack onto the backseat. “You forgot this.”
Bree’s accusing look insults her from the rearview mirror. Her voice pleads, “What did you say to Grandma?”
“Nothing.” Amber turns on the ignition and throws it into drive.
chapter forty-nine
Never Measure Up
IT TAKES PATTI two cups of decaf and a half-hour call to Kim to settle her down from the morning’s interaction with Amber. When she finally does, she chooses to work on her MyWay inventory as a way to calm her mind and get herself back into the day’s work flow. MyWay has always been the steadfast thing she can throw herself into when chaos invades her peace. Once she’s in a better frame of mind, Patti plans to follow up with new clients and prep her house for the evening’s beauty seminar that she’s hosting with some of the town’s more influential women. She is halfway through restocking the antiaging moisturizers when the doorbell rings. It’s not uncommon for clients to pop by in the middle of the day for a product pickup or tea. Patti flips on the front burner and places the kettle over it. Wanting to look her MyWay best, she d
abs on some lip gloss and heads for the door.
She squints through the peephole to see who’s on the other side of the door. A man in a leather jacket sways nervously on her front porch.
She opens the door, and his gaze snaps to her face as she waits behind the screen door.
“Hello, ma’am. Do you remember me? Cody Jackson?”
“I know who you are.”
“Well, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”
“Maybe. What’s this all about?” Patti keeps her distance behind the screen.
“Amber.”
“I’m not sure there’s much I can offer on that subject.”
“Maybe you can just hear me out first?”
Patti reads his demeanor as sincere. Plans whirl inside her brain. This may be the perfect opportunity to steer him away from Amber.
“All right.” Patti unlocks the screen door. “Why don’t you come in?”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“And, please, it’s Patti.” She leads him through the house, stopping short in the foyer.
“You have a beautiful home here.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess business is going well.” Cody tries to break the ice.
“Never better.”
“Have you ever thought about advertising on a race car?”
“Actually, I hadn’t thought of that before.”
“I’m looking for sponsors.”
“I guess I’d have to talk to Joe, then, right?” This is not where she thought the conversation would lead.
“Right. Sorry. That was kinda forward. And anyhow, it’s not why I’m here. I just thought that . . . You know, Patti, you’re a real inspiration. I hope Amber can see that someday.”
She’s not holding her breath about that. She puts on her pleasant MyWay persona. “So, what can I help you with, Cody?”
“Yes, well, actually, I came here hoping to get a little advice. Amber’s been through so much with Darren’s death, and . . .”
“We both have, Cody.”
“Yes. Of course. I recognize that. Which is why I want to be honest with and respectful of both of you . . . but I don’t know how to reach her.”
“That makes two of us.” Here’s her chance! “Best thing to do right now . . . just let her go.”
“I can’t. I really like her. I’ve tried to go slow. To understand what she’s been through. But she pushes me away. Can you help me get through to her?”
“Cody, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear you two were dating.”
“We’re not. But she doesn’t want to see me anymore. And I don’t understand.”
News to Patti. Hmm. This changes things. Score one for Amber. “I’ll be honest, I’m glad to hear it.”
“I would never do anything to hurt her. Or Bree.”
“You’re a nice-enough guy. But you’ll never measure up to what Amber had with Darren.”
“I wouldn’t even try to compare myself with or replace Darren, but I know I can give both Amber and Bree the kind of love they deserve.”
“What? And then go off and get yourself killed in some car crash? It’s irresponsible. At least my son died serving his country, not showboating around some track.”
The comment lies there between them, flat and cold. Patti’s hurt look unearths her true feelings. She’s meant every word. Cody slowly turns toward the front door.
“Thank you for your time, Patti.”
Patti makes no effort to get the door for him. She waits until Cody sees himself out, and then returns to her desk as the kettle begins to scream from the kitchen.
chapter fifty
A Better Home for Matt
ON HER BREAK, Amber texts the one person who has served as her surrogate mom since freshman year, when her own parents died in a car crash and she was forced to move to Clarksville to live with her grandparents. She waits to hear back, checking her phone every few minutes. Two anxious hours go by before Amber gets a response: Come by the house after work.
The diner slows after the lunch rush, and Amber scurries to get her side work done. When she tells Rosie about the auction and that she needs to find a new place to live, Rosie starts to chide her, but then excuses her to leave an hour early. Paid. Rosie has a soft spot. When she wants to.
When Amber shows up at Karena’s doorstep, Karena already has a plan in place.
“My great-uncle has a hunting cabin over by the lake. He’s living in Florida now, and he’s willing to rent it to you for a steal. Hundred bucks a month. If you want it.”
“Wow. Thank you, Karena.” Amber is humbled by Karena’s quick actions and the affordable offer.
“It’s small. Only a one-bedroom.”
“Okay. Can I take a look?”
“Well, I don’t have a way to get in yet. But you can drive by and peek in the windows. He’s FedExing me the keys if you say yes.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”
“You’ll drive by?”
“Yes. And I’ll take it.”
“Sight unseen?”
“How bad can it be?” Amber tries to smile.
“Just giving you full disclosure. It’s a hunting cabin. AKA: bachelor pad. And he hasn’t used it in several years. So I make no guarantees on the clean factor.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice or time right now, Karena.”
“When do you need to be moved out?”
Amber glances down at her white diner tennis shoes, stained with ketchup and grease. “It’s going to auction in a week.”
Karena nods. Amber feels no judgment. “Okay, sweetie, then let’s do this.” She puts an arm around Amber’s hunched shoulders and wraps her in a hug. Amber melts into Karena and realizes how good it is to have someone else bearing the burden with her.
* * *
BY THE WEEKEND, Amber has her most important and essential belongings packed up. The boxes are loaded into Joe’s pickup truck and make their way to the hunting cabin across town. The rest of her things have been donated or thrown away. Her meager belongings add up to what they did when she and Darren moved into their first apartment right after they were married. Just a few boxes of the essentials.
Amber and Bree spend their last night in the house in sleeping bags on the floor of the living room because Joe and his buddies had graciously relocated their furniture earlier that afternoon.
In the morning, they wake to the sun warming the room. They slip on their work clothes and give the house a final cleaning. When it’s finished, Amber stands alone in the middle of the foyer and looks to the dining room, living room, and upstairs. Empty walls. Empty floors. Empty shelves. Empty. Empty. Empty.
She spies the case displaying Darren’s medals still sitting on the fireplace mantel. The last item left in the home. She tucks it safely into her tote bag, tears stubbornly filling her eyes. She wipes her cheeks when Bree comes down the stairs carrying her little clay pot.
“You ready, sweetie?”
Bree nods as she shows her mother what’s left of Matt. He’s withered to a faded green nub.
“Oh dear. Matt doesn’t look so good. You wanna put him in the Dumpster on our way out?”
“No. I think the new house’ll be better for him.” Bree tucks the pot under her arm.
“I don’t think he’s coming back.”
“He might. We just gotta have a little faith.”
Amber keeps her mouth shut and reaches for her purse. Matt did not survive in the conditions in here, and no amount of faith is going to bring that seed back to life.
Bree stretches out her hand, and Amber takes it.
“Are you sad?” Amber asks.
“A little.”
“Me, too.” Amber looks at her daughter. “I’m sorry this is happening. I tried really, really hard to—” The lump in Amber’s throat chokes off her sentence.
“I know you did,” Bree says, squeezing her mother’s hand. “And I think Dad knows, too. It’s gonna be okay.”
�
�I hope so.” And they walk out hand in hand . . . with Matt.
chapter fifty-one
A Mother’s Loving Touch
PATTI HEARS FROM Karena that Amber is moving today, and she takes the day off to help. Or to at least be available in case Amber calls for help. She never does. Not one to wait, Patti texts Amber around nine to prompt an invitation. No response. Now it is noon, and Patti knows Amber is not going to get back to her.
So she is here instead.
DARREN HILL, BELOVED SON, HUSBAND, AND FATHER, 1984–2014 stares back at Patti from the hard marble gravestone. She kneels beside it, cleaning the face with a cloth and plucking stray weeds from the plot. She straightens the American flag, planting it securely in the soil at the top of the gravesite. Last, she swaps a wilting pot of daffodils for a fresh planter of yellow daisies, giving the whole site a mother’s loving touch.
Looking at the stone just makes her wound of loneliness throb and ache until the pain is so intense that everything inside her feels punctured.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, son. Amber’s losing it. Literally. She lost the house today. I don’t suppose she’s been around to tell you much of what’s going on. I don’t understand why she doesn’t visit your gravesite. It’s beyond me. She should be embarrassed. And then running around with that hotshot race car driver. I know. I know. She has a right to move on. But this guy is a subpar choice. Thankfully, it’s fizzled to nothing. But that and losing her home makes me doubt the choices she’s making. And in some way I feel like it belittles you. Don’t ask me how. It just does.
“I don’t know why I’m still so angry. I don’t even know what I’m angry about. Or who I’m angry at. I’m just so angry. A lot more than I’d like to admit. And it seems to always get directed at Amber.
“Maybe it’s because I wanted to see what you could have been. What you could have done with your life. I wanted to be at that college graduation. I wanted so much more for you.
“And I’m just angry at anything and anyone that prevented that for you. Airborne. Amber.”
As she says it out loud, the answer blares. The two things Darren loved the most, she has resented all these years. Conviction pierces her, dissolving the anger into regret.
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