by KG MacGregor
“Okay, how about food service? There’s this food safety course you can take to be a certified food handler. Every single business in California that serves food needs to have at least one person with this kind of certification.”
“What would I have to do?”
“Looks like it’s just twenty hours of class and then you take a test. And then after you work for a few years, you can go higher than that and get certified as a food safety inspector.”
Amber scooped up all the brochures into a pile in the center of the table. “I can’t do any of these courses, Joy. All of them say you need a high school diploma. I didn’t finish. I ran away in February my senior year, and I never got my GED.” As she talked, her voice began to quiver, and her eyes misted with tears. “I’m never going to get a decent job.”
That explained her sudden lack of interest as she leafed through each brochure. All of it was out of reach without a diploma.
Joy typed a few words into the search engine on her laptop and spun the results toward Amber. “Here you go—adult education. GED classes twice a week at the library, plus online instruction.”
“For how long?”
“It’s up to you. You take the test whenever you feel ready.” She scrolled through the overview. “It says the instructors treat everyone as an individual and work with you until you’re prepared.”
“I bet that wouldn’t take long. I got mostly Bs in school…and some Cs. But I got an A in history once, and we had a really hard teacher.”
Joy had a feeling those Cs were the norm. It was easy to imagine Amber struggling in school, but it was more a matter of lack of self-discipline than her intelligence. She and Madison could probably share plenty of tales of homework that never got done.
“You should do this GED, Amber. Get it out of the way while you can so you can start planning for whatever’s next.”
“But even if I get it, I won’t have enough time to go for anything else.”
“You don’t know that. You might get lucky and find another job like this. Pop knows a lot of veterans. Now that you’ve got some experience, he might be able to help you find another job right away. Or maybe the physical therapist knows somebody.” Joy did something she hadn’t done before—she took Amber’s hand and squeezed it. “The important thing is to be ready. You can even make Pop help you study.”
Amber laughed, and squeezed Joy’s hand in return. It was clear the idea was taking hold. “Yeah, and whenever I get a question right, he tosses me a Goober.”
“Sounds perfect. Let’s go tell him.”
Joy started to get up but Amber, still holding her hand, pulled her back.
“Thank you. Again. A million times.”
“You’re welcome,” Joy answered, smiling as she noticed tears about to fall.
“Seriously, I don’t know what I did to deserve all this, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to pay you back.”
“You don’t have to pay us back. Just keep doing a good job. We’re both pulling for you.”
For a fleeting moment, Joy wanted to draw her into a hug. All that stopped her was another flashback of Amber standing nude at the foot of her bed.
* * *
Amber needed many things in her life, but a big sister wasn’t on her list. Yet that’s what Joy seemed determined to be, imparting her grownup wisdom to the youngster not yet out of the nest. She’d probably be mortified to know where Amber’s thoughts strayed each night after she went to bed—to imagined visions of Joy’s powerful physique dripping wet from the shower or stretched out naked across fresh sheets in her private lair. Definitely not sisterly thoughts.
Only one person had ever triggered Amber’s sexual fantasies like that—Gus Holley’s wife Michelle. Practically everyone had those dreams about her. She was sweet and charming, like the girl next door, but only if you lived next to a modeling agency.
Joy wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous like Michelle Holley, but she had an aura of strength and self-assurance that Amber found mesmerizing. That fascination was further fueled by proximity, knowing Joy was only a few feet outside her window, separated by two wispy screens. If she strained to listen, she could almost imagine Joy’s deep steady breaths as she slept, a sensation that made her roll onto her side and clutch her pillow.
That moment in the camper when Joy had taken her hand, she’d almost felt a spark between them. But Joy hadn’t been expressing feelings of romantic or sexual attraction. She’d been giving advice and encouragement…like a big sister.
Even if there had been a hint of more—which was almost laughable given Joy’s distant and businesslike demeanor—acting on it wouldn’t be a good idea. It didn’t take a genius to know the quickest way to screw up your job was to sleep with the boss. Besides, Amber had more at stake than just a job. Joy had laid an opportunity in front of her that she’d never had before, a chance to get some training that could land her a giant step forward on the job front. She wasn’t used to putting off the here and now for the future, but Joy helped her see what was possible if she invested the effort.
As far back as she could remember, there had never been anyone—not a teacher, not a friend and definitely not a family member—who had made her feel like she could do whatever she set her mind to. No wonder she was falling for Joy. She was the first person who ever believed in her.
Chapter Thirteen
Joy ripped open three packets of sugar and dropped them into her steaming latte, smiling to realize this could have been the vice to which she confessed when she tweaked Amber about her smoking. Coffee wasn’t drinkable without sugar—loads of it—and life wasn’t worth living without coffee.
From a small table in the corner of the coffee bar she watched for Dani, who was flying out to a conference in Denver. Since members of the ground crew were out of place on the concourse, she disguised her uniform with a black pullover sweater, though the lanyard that hung around her neck identified her as an airport employee.
Her last meeting with Dani had been a couple of months ago—dinner at a sports bar, followed by a lecture on feminist politics in modern literature. Dani was always pulling her toward causes and philosophies that stretched her brain, and while Joy would often ponder the takeaway for several days, she didn’t exactly hunger for more. What made Dani so interesting was how she took those theories and applied them to the everyday lives of her friends. She was a pied piper when it came to rallying women to her various causes because no one had figured out how to say no.
Dani bustled into the small seating area and parked her suitcase by the table. At four eleven and a half, she still managed to fill every room with her buoyant personality and high-pitched, enthusiastic voice. A friendly peck on the lips passed for a greeting as she grumbled about her experience going through security. “It galls me to know they can actually see my tampon on that stupid x-ray machine. Watch my stuff while I grab some coffee.”
Joy bore the brunt of everyone’s air travel complaints once they learned she worked for an airline. She didn’t dare mention that she wasn’t subjected to the same intrusive security procedures despite having unfettered access to the planes.
“So what’s happening in Denver?” she asked when Dani returned to the table. “Is there a special variation of feminist theory that applies only at ten thousand feet?”
At thirty-nine, Dani wore her short, prematurely gray hair and bifocals like badges of honor. “Laugh all you want, fly girl. It so happens I’m off to a networking conference. We’re setting up a national resource bank for lesbians who need professional services—doctors, therapists, attorneys, financial planners—the whole shebang.”
Joy nodded her approval. “If anyone can pull off organizing that many people, it’s you.”
“It’s not as easy as you might think, but we’ve got some smart gals on the steering committee. Everyone we’ve approached wants to be listed because they all think they’re experts. But working with lesbians takes special skill and know-how. Our issues aren’t like eve
ryone else’s.” Dani leafed through the condiments for a packet of artificial sweetener. “Good thing I don’t like sugar. So, enough about the conference…I wanted to share some news with you. It appears I have a girlfriend.”
“Appears?”
“Seems that way. I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, but our relationship’s starting to walk a lot like a duck. Her name’s Clara Lewis and it so happens she lives in Denver.”
“Imagine that.” The prospect thrilled Joy, not only because she wanted her friend to be happy, but also because it meant the end of all their friends’ speculation that she and Dani would end up together when both of them knew it would never happen. “When do I get to meet her?”
“She was out here last weekend but I was still in denial. And now I’m going to visit her.”
“I’m really happy for you, Dani. It’s going to be tough keeping a stiff upper lip in front of all our friends. They’re going to assume I’m heartbroken.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a fix for that. How about you and I get married so I can use your employee discount to fly back and forth to Denver?” She took a sip of coffee and looked at Joy over the top of her bifocals. “I’m kidding, of course…unless you’re willing to go for it.”
“No problem. You free Tuesday?”
Dani had half an hour more to kill, so Joy caught her up on what was going on with her pop. Her effort to gloss over the story of how she’d come to hire Amber was met with a screech.
“You did what?”
“It just happened.”
“Is she cute?”
Joy hesitated. “Yeah.”
“Then it didn’t just happen. You were trolling.”
“I was not! She was in a jam and it just worked out for both of us.”
Dani gave her a wink. “You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”
Joy slapped the tabletop, which caught the attention of nearby customers. “That’s it. The wedding’s off. If we can’t trust each other, we have no business getting married.”
“You kill me.”
Lowering her voice, Joy said, “We’re not sleeping together, but I admit the idea might be a little intriguing if she weren’t twenty-four going on sixteen.”
There was also the matter of Amber’s sexuality, but Joy didn’t want to discuss that with Dani. She had her own thoughts. The fact that Amber was open to women, or even that she liked them in some ways better than men, didn’t make her a lesbian. It didn’t even make her bisexual. Joy had learned from Syd that women who felt they had a choice generally chose the path of least resistance. Amber added a different twist, choosing whichever offered the best opportunity.
“Don’t hold your breath for anything to happen on that front,” Joy told her. “But if she decides to stick around Oakland when her time’s up with Pop, I’ll bring her to one of your events so she can have her awareness raised.”
“That’s right, humor me.” Dani stood at her boarding announcement. “Now wish me a safe trip.”
“I don’t have to. I inspected your plane personally.”
“That’s even better.”
They shared another peck on the lips and Joy walked her to the gate. “Tell Clara that I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“Ha! Tell Amber the same.”
* * *
Smoking used to be a lot more fun, Amber thought. Now every cigarette was tainted with the specter of how much she wanted to quit. It wasn’t only the expense, or even the health reasons, which everyone who didn’t smoke drummed into her at every opportunity. It was the fact that this nicotine addiction owned her, invading her thoughts at predictable intervals and demanding she feed it.
Other people’s opinions about smoking had never bothered her much, but she cared what Joy and Shep thought. Even though neither gave her too hard a time about it, their disapproval was unmistakable. The way they saw it, it was a matter of self-discipline. It wasn’t like either of them to surrender control of their body. It was why Shep had never given in to the ease of a motorized wheelchair, and why Joy kept herself in top physical condition.
Amber would love to feel that kind of self-confidence about her physical self, but the reality of that was so far away it felt out of reach. Working out in the gym seemed like such a waste of time. For those she knew who did it, it was every bit as addictive as nicotine. If it were only a matter of trading one vice for another, she might as well smoke.
Joy’s Jeep crackled down the driveway and eased into the carport, sending a swell of excitement through her. It was silly to feel so eager about something so ordinary, but she looked forward every day to Joy coming home from work. The fact that she was later than usual created even more anticipation to know where she’d been.
Like a cowboy at the end of a long trail ride, Joy sauntered lazily up the stairs and collapsed into a deck chair, where she immediately propped her feet on the top rail.
“You’re late, missy. You’d better have a note from your boss.”
Joy chuckled. “Don’t tell my boss, but I left work a couple of minutes early. I met a friend of mine for coffee.”
“Nice.” Except nice wasn’t exactly what Amber was feeling. Of course Joy had friends, but she’d never even mentioned any of them before. Could it be this was actually a date? “I was starting to wonder if you had any friends.”
“So happens I thought about that when we were riding back from Kentucky. If I were to find myself homeless tomorrow, I might be hard-pressed to find a couch to sleep on for more than a night or two. Once in a while I can get someone to show up for coffee.”
“I don’t get that. You’ve been back in town for what, three years? You ought to have a girlfriend by now.” She could imagine several reasons, not the least of which was Joy’s stiff military demeanor, but still…Joy was nice to look at, had a job and treated women with respect. Amber knew dozens of girls back in Tennessee who were looking for a husband with all that, and most of them would settle for one out of three. Surely there were lesbians who wanted that in a lover too.
“I went out with Dani a few times—that’s the woman I met today—but it just didn’t click. I like her though. She’s just too much of a whirlwind for me…always going to lectures or meetings, raising money for this or that. I like to get out every now and then, but I like to sleep once in a while too.”
“Yeah, you do have a brutal work schedule. It’s hard to date when you have to be home at seven thirty to go to bed.”
“Eight thirty, but close enough.”
Amber’s cell phone rang, and with Joy sitting right next to her, the only other person it could be was Shep. “I told you never to call me here.”
“What’s a guy got to do to get a taco in this joint?”
She looked over at Joy. “Tacos?”
“Great idea…Juanita’s,” she said, slapping her thighs as she stood. “Tell him he’s buying.”
* * *
Bypassing the handicapped space near the door, Joy selected a spot at the far end of the parking lot at Juanita’s. Though her father had a special permit, he always chose to leave the blue-lined spaces to those who had trouble walking. All he needed was enough room on the side to maneuver his chair in and out of the car. If he could do that, it didn’t matter how far he had to roll it.
Joy opened the back door for Barbara, who had eagerly joined them. Amber pulled the wheelchair from the trunk, and in seconds, had it put together and waiting by the passenger door.
“I hope I get to stick around long enough to see you do this by yourself, Shep,” she said, “especially the driving part. I can’t wait to see you do all that with just your hands.”
Her pop swung into his chair as Amber tugged on his shorts. “I wish I could drive with voice commands. That way I’d have my hands free for obscene gestures.”
Joy traded eye rolls with Barbara, who said, “I remember your mother telling me he tried to get her to do that for him.”
“Can you just imagine my mom—Cindy Shepar
d, of all people—flipping off a stranger on the highway? The pope would do that before she would.” She yelled ahead to Amber, “I wish you could’ve been there the time he got pulled over and the officer told him to step out of the car.”
“I asked the guy if he was pulling my leg. He didn’t think that was funny either.”
Though her mother was gone, Joy still felt warm feelings of family among the four of them tonight. Barbara had been a mainstay in their lives for decades, and in only a few short weeks Amber had inserted herself as well. She may have landed in Oakland totally unprepared for this job, but she’d caught on to the work aspects fairly well and had made up for her shortcomings with a cheerful personality.
Since they were steady customers at Juanita’s, the host welcomed them and signaled for Cristina to take them to their table.
“Hey, sweetie,” her pop said. “How about we start with the usual—cold beer, warm chips and hot salsa.”
“I take it you guys are regulars,” Amber said.
“This is Pop’s home away from home. They’re probably building his burrito as we speak.”
When the beer arrived, they placed their order. Then her pop raised his bottle. “To getting out of the house.”
“Cheers,” they answered.
Barbara, who had all but shoved Amber aside to take the seat next to Shep, told him, “You’re welcome to get out of the house any night you want. If these girls won’t bring you, just pick up the phone and I’ll come get you.”
“Trust me, Barbara. You can have Pop any night you want him.”
“I second that,” Amber added.
For all his insistence that they were only friends, Joy saw a sweetness in her father’s eyes when he looked at Barbara. It wasn’t the look of devotion he’d shown her mother all those years, but there was interest and genuine friendship, enough to suggest there might be more for them down the road.
“See how they treat me? They should be ashamed.” He turned to Amber. “Did you tell Joy about your test?”