by KG MacGregor
“Does that bother you?”
“No, I just…I’ve never been around anyone like that. But I’ll do whatever he needs—cook, clean…I can even give him a bath. All you have to do is show me how. I learn fast.”
Joy was glad she hadn’t been drinking anything because it would have been spewed on her dashboard. “I wouldn’t mention the bath if I were you. He might like that idea for all the wrong reasons. But he’ll be glad to have somebody clean the house for him. That doesn’t mean he won’t look over your shoulder and yell at you for doing it wrong.”
“And I thought you got all that neat-freak stuff in the navy.”
“I did, but before that, I got it from him, and he got it from the navy. I’ve been yelled at so much, I finally decided it was just easier to do it right the first time.”
Amber groaned. “Great, he’s probably going to rip my head off every time I turn around. But like I said, I’ll learn.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just do your best. He’d be more annoyed if you were perfect and he didn’t have anything to complain about.”
“Sounds like a piece of work. But I can handle him.”
Joy had her doubts about both of them. Her pop would probably take one look at Amber and ask whose bratty kid she was. And Amber…after one of her father’s tirades, she’d either dissolve in tears or erupt in swear words.
At least Joy wouldn’t have to be there while they worked out their differences. Too bad the airline didn’t allow overtime.
Chapter Five
With her eyes open barely a slit, Amber studied Joy’s profile as she drove westward in the waning light. From this angle, she looked a lot softer than she had chinning the crossbeam, but was still a far cry from anything Amber would call feminine. Tiny gold post earrings peeked out from under her dark hair, which was cut even with the top of her collar, and what she had first thought was a smooth complexion was actually a light coat of perfectly applied makeup, barely enough to notice.
“You’re wearing makeup!”
“I am not.”
Amber swiped a finger down Joy’s cheek and checked it, finding a beige smear. “You most certainly are. You wouldn’t let me put any on because we were in such an all-fire hurry to leave.”
“It’s not makeup. It’s sunscreen.” She opened the mirror on the underside of her sun visor and rubbed the smudge off her cheek. “I wear it everywhere I go. You should too.”
“I should have known.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I have no problem wearing a little makeup when the situation calls for it, but that doesn’t include riding in a truck across Wyoming.”
“No need to get so defensive. I wasn’t trying to imply that you never dressed up or anything like that.” Though it was hard to imagine Joy going out of her way to look “pretty” in the normal sense, no matter what the situation. “I’m just not surprised that you always wear sunscreen…and your seat belt, and sensible shoes. Because you never even get in the truck without walking all the way around it to check the tires.”
“What’s wrong with that? You ever have a flat tire on a truck this size? It’s a pain in the butt.”
“All flat tires are a pain in the butt. Believe me, I’ve had my share.”
“Maybe if you checked them before you took off down the road, you wouldn’t have so many.” Her voice wasn’t particularly scolding, and she even wore a little smirk in the corner of her mouth.
Joy was regimented about practically everything, and it began to dawn on Amber that her new job with Joy’s father might be tougher than she’d first thought. Corey always said the only thing worse than her cooking was her housekeeping, and there was some truth to that. Of course, he was a slob who expected hamburger to taste like steak, so she couldn’t have pleased him if she’d tried. But she didn’t want to blow this chance in California, and she especially didn’t want to let Joy down, not after she’d done so much for her.
“So you’re a military brat. I’m guessing that gay thing didn’t go over well.”
Joy huffed…almost a chuckle but not quite. “Could have been better, but it turned out okay. They were hoping for lots of grandkids.”
“Kids are overrated. I think the best parents are the ones that have to adopt. They appreciate their kids more because they have to jump through so many hoops to get them. It’s not like you can skip a few pills and accidentally adopt one.”
“I don’t know about that. Getting Madison was kind of an accident, but I couldn’t love her more than I do. I’d give anything to adopt her though.”
As Joy described her relationship with her goddaughter, Amber tried to imagine one of her friends designating her as a guardian for a child. That would never happen in a million years, not only because no one in their right mind would trust her with a child, but also because she’d never agree. Raising kids took something special. At the very least, you needed a stable home life and a good job, to say nothing of a halfway decent role model from your own parents.
“I had a baby once,” Amber announced flatly. “A boy. Five years ago, when I was nineteen. I gave him up for adoption and I’ve never had the urge to see him again.”
Joy didn’t reply, but her wide eyes suggested she was somewhat taken aback. Little wonder, since Amber’s choice of words probably made her sound cold and uncaring. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“See, I got pregnant back when I was with Archie and it totally freaked him out. Me too, for that matter. I wasn’t ready for a baby any more than he was, but I figured we screwed up so it was time for us to start acting responsible. His idea of being responsible was for me to have an abortion. I kept putting it off because I thought he’d change his mind when it started kicking and stuff. Instead, he took off, and after feeling it move around inside me…well, I decided it was alive and I couldn’t just kill it. My friend, Molly, the one who moved to Limon…she hooked me up with a lawyer who found this couple in Arkansas to pay all of my medical expenses if I gave them the baby as soon as it was born.”
She recalled the meeting in the lawyer’s office. The woman had been through some kind of cancer scare that left her unable to have children, and it seemed like a baby was what she and her husband wanted most in the world. It was the first time Amber could remember people being so nice to her, asking about her health and well-being, and if she needed anything to be comfortable. She knew from the get-go they were more concerned about the baby, and with staying on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind. It gave her comfort to know he would be going to a family that would love him and provide for him in a way she couldn’t.
“They offered to do one of those open adoptions, where I could send birthday cards and presents and they’d send me pictures as he grew up, but all that stuff sounded like it was for me, not him. I thought we’d all be better off if I just got out of the picture.”
“Hmmm.”
Still no reaction, but at least she wasn’t being critical, Amber thought.
“What, you think that was bad? Harmony did. She was like, ‘How could you abandon your own child?’ It’s not like I left him on a doorstep. I made sure he was going to a good home.”
“It’s never bad when you put a child’s well-being first. That’s what responsible adults are supposed to do. You’re lucky you felt good about where he ended up. I thought leaving Madison with Syd was best for her, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
“How come she ended up with you guys? Didn’t she have any grandparents?”
“Not really. Her father was African-American and that didn’t go over very well with Carrie’s folks. She quit having anything to do with them and they never even came around looking for Madison after she died.”
“Sounds like something my folks would have done.”
“That’s what I meant about you doing right by your baby. I don’t always trust Syd to put Madison’s needs first.”
“And that’s the main reason I don’t want to see my kid anymore. I want to think o
f him as happy and healthy…because there’s nothing I can do about it now if he isn’t. It’s not like I could turn into a great mother all of a sudden and get him back. It’s all I can do to take care of Skippy, and let’s face it—I couldn’t even do that if you hadn’t picked us up. What if I’d been left in a parking lot with a five-year-old?”
Joy shook her head. “I don’t think that would have happened. Having a kid makes you more sensible whether you’re ready for it or not.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
* * *
Joy positioned her laptop so she was directly in front of the webcam and cracked her knuckles.
“I hate when you do that!” Madison squealed from the screen, covering her ears. “I can’t believe you always do that to me.”
“Because I know it drives you crazy,” she said with a mischievous grin. “How was your first day of school? You like your teacher?”
Amber had volunteered to do their laundry, giving Joy a small window to catch Madison before she went to bed. She’d been careful not to tell her goddaughter about how she’d picked up someone on the side of the road, since it wasn’t in keeping with the lessons about being cautious about strangers.
“I’m in Cheyenne, Wyoming…a little over halfway home. My butt’s going to feel weird next week when it doesn’t have that truck seat attached to it.”
“I know. I close my eyes and it still feels like I’m riding. I wish I was.”
“Nah, it’s better for you to be in school with your friends. I bet Syd’s glad to have you back home.”
“If you say so.”
Joy couldn’t tell if that was a typical response to having homework, chores and bedtime rules again, or something in particular related to Syd and perhaps her new boyfriend. Whatever the cause, it made Joy want to turn around and go back for her, especially after her conversation with Amber today. It didn’t seem right to leave Madison floundering where she clearly wasn’t happy.
“Are you getting to know Mitch?”
“I guess. He goes upstairs after dinner and shuts the door. Syd goes too but then she comes back after a while…to make sure I go to bed.” The last words she muttered drearily. “She’d be mad at me for telling you though. She told me last night that what we do at home is private, and I’m not supposed to talk about it at school and stuff.”
It wasn’t surprising Syd would want to keep her new living situation on the down low, especially since Mitch—like all the others—would probably be history in a few months. But Joy didn’t like the idea of making Madison feel ashamed about her home life.
“All families are like that, sweetie. We like to keep certain things private, but you don’t have to worry about what you say to me. I’m family too, you know.”
“I’m not even supposed to tell people about you anymore, or even Grandpa Shep. Our teacher wants us to write a story about what we did over the summer, and I’ll have to say stupid stuff like going to the pool with Tara.” Madison must have known her words would be hurtful because she delivered them with genuine scorn.
Joy managed a thin smile for the benefit of the video, which was all that kept her from erupting in anger. Syd’s sole reason for telling Madison to keep their visits secret was because she was a lesbian, and it was a clear breach of their agreement to stay positive when they talked about one another.
“You’re a smart girl. I bet you can figure out how to write about the fun stuff.”
Footsteps outside the camper door announced Amber’s return from the laundry room.
“Okay, sweetie. I’ve got to go and so do you. It might be late tomorrow when I get to camp, so what if I wait to call when I get home? Is that okay?”
“Don’t forget.”
“Not a chance. Love you.”
She had barely disconnected the call when Amber came in with the laundry basket.
“I…uh, I ran into sort of a problem with some of our stuff. I think it might have been that red tank top I had on yesterday. I forgot it had never been washed before.”
Joy looked dismally upon a small pile of pink-tinted underwear. She reached into the basket—hoping against hope—and withdrew her beloved yellow T-shirt from the USS Theodore Roosevelt, now streaked with red. Not that the color mattered…since it was now two sizes too small.
“Looks like you washed everything together…in hot water.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think there was enough for two loads, and I wanted to be sure it all got clean.”
“Looks like it did,” she said quietly. Her pink bras ought to still fit, since they were polyester, but the cotton panties were a lost cause.
“I’m really sorry. Maybe it’ll wash out next time.”
“Hmmm.” Joy hoped the really small people who frequented Goodwill liked pink.
* * *
“Are you as cold as I am, Skippy boy?” Amber drew her knees to her chest on the bench of the picnic table and rubbed her bare legs briskly. The guy at the RV park store who sold her a pack of cigarettes said the temperature in Cheyenne dropped at night because the altitude was almost six thousand feet. There was a hoodie in her suitcase, but she didn’t want to go inside until it was time for bed. Staying out of Joy’s way seemed like a good idea on account of the laundry mishap.
This wasn’t the brand of silent treatment she was used to, where Corey would bang drawers and turn up the volume on the TV every time she tried to talk to him. Joy was talking to her but her voice was glum. Understandably, she was disappointed over having her favorite shirt ruined by carelessness. Amber had even offered to buy her another, but apparently they were available only in the ship’s store.
Perhaps all would be forgiven if she and Skippy froze to death.
Joy suddenly opened the door of the camper and called out, “Hey, we probably ought to turn in. Tomorrow’s another long day.”
She hustled inside to find her bed already set up, and with an extra blanket. “Thanks for doing this. I would have come sooner if…I figured you were still kind of mad at me.”
“I wasn’t mad,” Joy said. “Just kind of bummed about the shirt because it was special. But I shot off an email to a buddy of mine who’s still on the ship and she’s going to send me a couple of new ones. It’ll be okay.”
“Aw, that’s great. I’ll pay for both of them. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Joy was already dressed for bed and wasted no time climbing up into her loft, where she rolled onto her side and pulled the covers to her chin. “But I should warn you…if you turn my pop’s skivvies pink, he might decide not to wear any, and that’ll be bad news for everyone at breakfast.”
It took a moment for Joy’s words to register, and then Amber got a vision of an old naked guy in a wheelchair. “Ewww.”
It was only when Joy chuckled that Amber finally let go of the tension that had strained their interactions all evening. Walking on eggshells wasn’t usually her style, but she didn’t like her chances in a head-on conflict with Joy. Someone so regimented wasn’t going to give an inch anyway, and it wasn’t worth the risk of ticking her off. Besides, she liked Joy. More than that, she respected any woman who took care of herself the way she did and called her own shots.
Amber turned on the tiny reading lamp over her bed and turned off the overhead light, casting the rest of the small space into darkness. As she bent to retrieve her nightshirt from the drawer below the seat, she wondered if Joy might be watching her from the shadows. Unlikely for someone so honorable. Still…it was kind of exciting to think so, and Amber took her time getting dressed, purposely stretching her nude body as she dropped the nightshirt over her form.
It could be fun to have sex with someone like Joy, she thought, smiling to herself as she spread the blanket over her feet and settled Skippy into the crook of her arm. Thanks to Molly and Rachelle, she’d had lots of practice satisfying women—enough that she could show Joy a thing or two.
* * *
Joy squeezed her eyes tightly shut, b
ut not before getting an eyeful of Amber as she stripped to nothing and readied for bed.
She needed a girlfriend—tonight if at all possible—and anyone but Amber. For most of her tenure in the navy she’d been involved with Syd, and that had worked like an off-switch when it came to sexual interest in other women. The closest she’d come to dating someone since returning to California was Danielle Hatcher, her sometimes fling whenever she got depressed about not having female company. Though Joy found Dani interesting and attractive, they weren’t well suited for a serious relationship since Dani was set in her ways—ways that didn’t include being around kids like Madison or cranky old guys in wheelchairs. A social worker schooled at the University of California at Berkeley, she was a proud feminist who regularly organized women for one political cause or another, and she seemed to know every lesbian in the East Bay.
As soon as Joy got back home and got Amber settled in with her household duties, she’d call Dani for dinner. Or Jeannie, or Cassie or whoever that girl was she met at Dani’s potluck where they all had to donate to the women’s center.
Anyone but Amber.
There were dozens of reasons to steer clear of her passenger, not the least of which was the sleaze factor. Amber was desperate, and probably willing to do almost anything just to get by, including bartering sex. Only a creep would take advantage of a situation like that, and the fact that Amber gave it so freely meant she didn’t value intimacy in the same way Joy did.
Then there was the matter of Amber’s youth. Though she was twenty-four—only five years younger than Joy—she was hardly a mature adult. From her self-absorbed and impulsive behavior, it was almost as if she’d been raised by teenagers in a home where no one was left in charge. By contrast, Joy had been as responsible as any adult at sixteen, even before the navy got hold of her. She wasn’t interested in becoming a parent to someone who was old enough to take care of herself and had given away a child of her own.