Into Magnolia (Sandy Cove Series Book 3)

by Rosemary Hines

  Another entry further down the log indicated some special health circumstances with Mrs. Gamble requiring intermittent hospitalizations and court-ordered drug rehabs. After Mr. Gamble refused the option of caring for his children, they were placed in temporary foster care. Apparently, there were no other relatives except an elderly grandmother on the east coast and an uncle, who traveled continuously as a military reporter.

  Specifics of each foster home in which the children had been placed followed this section. Although Jack had been able to remain in his initial foster home, it appeared that Amber was on her third placement. The former two homes had complained of Amber’s sullen attitude, her disrespectful and often defiant behavior, and her smoking as reasons for terminating their care.

  Amber currently lived with a middle-aged woman, who housed two other foster children as well — a five-year-old girl and her three-year-old brother. Cecilia Harte was a former bank teller. She and her husband, Paul, had no children of their own. Apparently, they had opted to become foster parents. When Paul died suddenly of a massive heart attack, Cecilia continued the process of providing short-term care for needy youngsters.

  The social worker’s log chronicled the decision to leave Amber’s brother Jack in his original foster home and place Amber under Cecilia’s temporary custody, with the hope that their mother, Stacy Gamble, would respond to the latest treatment for her severe depression and be able to resume her role as a parent.

  Oh, Lord. How can I help her? With all these students, how can I make a difference for this poor girl? Michelle made a mental note to call Ben and Kelly and ask them to put Amber on the prayer chain at church. Without disclosing Amber’s identity, she could certainly ask for prayer for an unnamed but hurting young lady at her school.

  Amber sat on the grass and waited outside the front of school for her foster mom to pick her up. Her body was crying for a cigarette, but she knew she didn’t dare light up here. She picked at the grass beside her and watched her peers walking out to climb into cars awaiting them at the curb.

  Why did Cecilia always have to be late? Probably too busy with her soap operas, Amber thought. Or those two snotty nosed brats that lived there. Amber didn’t even like to acknowledge Tessie and Todd by name. To her, they were just another reminder that her brother was stuck at another house somewhere and that both of them had loser parents.

  As Amber watched for Cecilia’s beat up Ford Bronco, she noticed Mrs. Baron coming down the front walk.

  “Hi, Amber,” her teacher’s voice greeted her.

  “Hi,” Amber replied without making eye contact.

  “Waiting for someone?”

  What business is it of hers, Amber thought, but she replied, “Yeah.”

  “See you in the morning,” her teacher said, continuing toward the faculty parking lot.

  “Right,” Amber replied.

  As she disappeared around the corner of the building, Amber spotted Adam sauntering across the lawn toward her. He was a junior at the high school a few blocks away, and they had met last spring when he walked past Magnolia on his way home and struck up a conversation with her.

  “Hey, Amber.”

  “Hey,” she answered.

  He plunked down on the grass beside her and propped his elbows on his knees. “Got a cigarette?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Funny, Adam,” she snapped.

  “Whoa. Aren’t we touchy today?” he said with a grin.

  “Sorry. I’m just sick of all the stupid rules at this school and how that jerk, Harte, keeps me waiting every time she comes to pick me up.”

  “Let’s ditch this place,” Adam suggested.

  “And go where?”

  “I don’t know. The beach maybe.”

  She leaned over and looked him in the eye. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Seriously. We could hitch a ride down there, have a smoke, and then hitch another ride back to your place later.”

  Amber smiled. “Sounds good.”

  They stood up and walked off, Adam carrying her backpack for her. That’s what she liked about him. He took care of her.

  An hour later, Amber and Adam were stretched out on the sand. They’d gotten a ride with a high school senior Adam spotted coming their way about two blocks from the middle school. It was some guy Adam’s brother hung out with on the weekends, so Amber felt totally safe taking the ride.

  Once they got to the beach, Adam pulled a cigarette out of his jeans pocket. It was a little bent, but he straightened it out and lit up. He and Amber took turns taking long drags on the cigarette. She could feel herself unwinding. The sound of the surf, the relief from her nicotine cravings, and the presence of Adam all worked to relax her.

  They both stretched out on the sand, lying on their backs as they talked about school and their messed up lives. Adam’s alcoholic dad had gone into one of his tirades the night before, and he and his brother were trying to stay clear of him. Ever since Adam’s mom died two years ago, it seemed like neither of them could please him.

  He rolled onto his side and propped his head up facing her, as he quietly studied her face.

  “What?” she asked defensively.

  “You know something, Amber?”

  “What?”

  “You have great eyes.”

  “Right, Adam. Knock it off.”

  “I’m serious. You do.”

  Amber could feel her adrenalin beginning to surge. She had a thing for Adam, but so far they’d just been friends. She turned her face toward his, and before she could say another word, she felt his mouth gently cover hers. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into his kiss.

  Adam pulled away for a moment and then came back for more. She responded by moving toward him and parting her lips for the deep, passionate kisses that followed. Her body was responding in ways Amber could not control. She knew she should stop, but every fiber of her being wanted more.

  As Adam inched his body up against hers, she felt his hand start to travel down her body and slip under her shirt. At that moment, Amber’s cell phone started vibrating in her pocket. It startled her, and she sat up.

  “What’s wrong?” Adam asked, looking bewildered.

  “My phone. Wait a sec.”

  Amber looked at the name on the screen of the cell phone. Jack. “I’ve got to get this. It’s my brother.”

  Sitting up, Adam took out another cigarette and lit up.

  “Jack? Are you okay?” Amber asked.

  “I’m fine. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the beach with a friend. Why?”

  “At the beach? Are you nuts, Amber? Mrs. Harte just called. She said she’s been looking for you for almost an hour.”

  “She’ll get over it, Jack.”

  “I don’t think so, Amber. She said she’s calling the social worker, and if you don’t show up soon, she’s calling the cops.”

  “Great,” Amber replied sarcastically. “I can’t even spend some time with a friend without the warden checking on me.”

  “You’d better call her, Amber. I mean it. Call right now.”

  “Fine, Jack. I’ll call her. Anything else?” She glanced over at Adam and rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah. Did you call me last night?”

  “Oh, yeah, I did. The witch you live with told me you were asleep.”

  “Mrs. Goodwin isn’t a witch, Amber.”

  “Whatever,” Amber replied, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

  “So what did you want? Why did you call?”

  Amber could tell that Adam was getting restless. “Just checking on how you are. That’s all.”

  “Right. Why don’t you come over one of these days and see for yourself?” Jack asked, implying that he resented Amber for not keeping her word about visiting him.

  “Yeah, little brother. I’ll do that soon.” Adam handed the cigarette to her, and she took a long drag before finishing. “Gotta go, Jack.”

  “Call Mrs. Harte.”

  “Okay already! I said I�
��d call, didn’t I?” Amber snapped.

  “You know Mom wouldn’t like the way you are acting these days, Amber.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Mom doesn’t care about us, Jack, or she’d have come for us by now.”

  “That’s not true and you know it.”

  “Whatever.”

  Jack was quiet on the other end. Amber felt like a jerk talking to her brother that way, but sometimes he could be so stupid.

  “Listen, Jack. I’ve got to get off the phone,” she said, pushing Adam’s hand away from her shirt buttons as he teased her and laughed.

  “Just promise me you’ll call Mrs. Harte before she calls the cops or something.”

  “I promise. And I’ll come by in a few days.”

  “Yeah. Bye, Amber.”

  “See ya.” Amber flipped her phone shut and turned to Adam.

  “Trouble?” he asked.

  “My foster mom is freaking out. I have to call her.” She opened her phone again and dialed the number, bracing herself for the barrage of questions to follow.

  After she had reassured the woman she was okay, she promised to be home in an hour.

  “Guess we’d better get going,” Adam said as he got up and grabbed Amber’s backpack. He reached out a hand and pulled her up beside him. They walked toward the street hand-in-hand, and for the first time in a year, Amber felt some hope for her future. With Adam around, she’d at least have someone to love who could love her back in return.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The social worker was waiting on the porch when Amber got home. “I hear you’ve had a little adventure this afternoon, Amber,” Bonnie Blackwell said, her voice revealing her chagrin.

  “What? Spending time with a friend is a felony now?” Amber asked sarcastically.

  Bonnie shook her head and sighed. “You know that’s not it, Amber. You took off without telling Mrs. Harte. She was worried sick.”

  “I doubt that,” Amber replied.

  “Here’s the deal, Amber. You have a good home here for a while, but not if you keep up this kind of attitude. Mrs. Harte cares about you, whether you like it or not. And she’s doing her best to take care of you and Tessie and Todd.”

  Amber didn’t say anything. She just stared at the street lamp.

  “You should be helping her, not making life harder for her.”

  Silence revealed the wall around Amber’s heart.

  “Look, I know this is hard on you, too, but I heard from your mom’s doctor today. It sounds like you may be here longer than we thought.”

  “Great. Thanks for the good news.” Amber looked up at the sky. She did not want this lady to see the tears that were swimming in her eyes.

  “Do you want me to look for another placement for you?” Bonnie asked softly as she placed her hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Or do you think you can buck up and follow Mrs. Harte’s rules?”

  Amber shrugged and looked away. “I don’t care where I live,” she lied. “I just want to stay at Magnolia.”

  “Okay, then let’s give it another try here.”

  “Fine.” Amber slung the backpack over her shoulder and walked inside without saying goodbye.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she muttered as she walked by Cecilia Harte in the front room. The kids were watching cartoons, and Amber could smell dinner cooking.

  “Wash up,” Cecilia replied. “Dinner’s ready.” She walked over to the TV and turned it off, triggering protests from Tessie and Todd. “You two need to wash up, now. You can watch the rest of the cartoons after dinner.”

  Amber tossed her backpack down at the foot of the stairs and followed the little ones into the bathroom. She’d try to help out a little, like Bonnie suggested. Maybe then Cecilia would be more open to the idea of Amber spending time with Adam after school.

  Stacy Gamble sat on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands. A suffocating fog of hopelessness engulfed her. An image of Amber and Jack playing on a playground somewhere in the photo album in her mind brought a rush of tears and a deep ache in her chest. “My babies,” she murmured softly.

  An attendant came into the room holding a small paper cup in her hand. “Time for your medicine, Stacy,” she said matter-of-factly. She handed Stacy the paper cup and retrieved the water bottle from her bedside table.

  Stacy looked at the pills in the cup. She knew they would dull the pain and give her a temporary escape that only sleep could provide. Without another thought, she upended the cup and swallowed them.

  Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow she would somehow find a way to see her kids again. With those thoughts swirling in her mind, she eased herself down into the bed and drifted off to sleep.

  Michelle could smell the smoke on Amber’s clothes as she entered class later that week. The pungent odor clung to Amber and followed her like a gray storm cloud. Michelle hesitated to write a referral and send her to the office because it would disrupt her teaching and shift the focus away from the lesson. Besides, she hadn’t actually seen her smoking.

  While most of the students worked on the warm up activity on the board, Amber slipped a black journal out of her backpack and flipped it open. As Michelle began her routine walk through the room, Amber kept glancing her way. She reluctantly closed the journal as Michelle neared her desk.

  In a soft but firm voice, Michelle reminded her to begin working on the warm up.

  “I don’t have any paper,” Amber muttered.

  “How about a sheet from that?” Michelle pointed to the journal.

  “That’s not for class stuff.”

  Michelle could feel herself growing tense and could hear the edge in her voice as she replied, “Then what is it doing out on your desk?”

  “Sorry.” It was clear from her tone that Amber was not sorry at all. She rolled her eyes, slid the journal off her desk, and crammed it back into the backpack. “There. Satisfied?” she asked with a smirk.

  Michelle simply shook her head to herself and walked away. She knew she was not handling this right, but something about that girl got under her skin. Besides, the timer was signaling the end of the warm up exercise, and she had a class to teach.

  As she went over the correct answers to the exercise with the rest of the students, she could see Amber pull out her journal again and begin reading whatever was inside.

  During lunch break, Michelle looked for Mrs. G but couldn’t find her in the lounge area. She sighed and sank into one of the chairs at the teachers’ lunch table.

  “Rough morning?” Ron asked as he passed through the lounge on his way out to supervise the kids in the quad.

  “It’s Amber Gamble. She’s making me crazy.”

  “Hang in there, Michelle. Don’t let one kid upset you. This school’s got a handful that are walking along the edge of the cliff. But most of them are just hurting kids.”

  “I know. I don’t know why I let her get to me this way,” Michelle confessed as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “It’s because you want to be a winner with each and every one of your students. That’s what makes you a great teacher. But it can also be the sure road to frustration and burn out.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.”

  “Here’s a suggestion. Tomorrow, or even this afternoon, look around and mentally count all the students who are on task. You’ll find that the majority of them are right there with you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.” Michelle smiled and waved as Ron backed out of the lounge with a nod.

  Michelle tried to follow Ron’s advice. For the next several days, she did her best to shift her focus from the fringe kids to the ones who were really working. Although it helped reassure her that she was actually getting through to most of them, she couldn’t shake her aggravation with Amber.

  Time after time, Amber pushed her buttons. If she wasn’t tardy, she was insolent and unproductive. The scowl on her face spoke volumes about her feelings for the class and for Michelle as a teacher. At least once a day, Amber would find a
way to defy her or disrupt the lesson.

  Michelle didn’t want to take her frustrations home with her, but she could see this dilemma starting to intrude on her conversations with Steve and Maddie.

  “Honey, are you listening?” became a frequent query over the dinner table, as Steve observed her pensive expression.

  Finally, Michelle decided she would take action. She’d go visit Amber’s foster home and see what kind of world this girl inhabited.

  It was 4:00 p.m. Wednesday afternoon when Michelle found herself standing on the sagging front porch of Cecilia Harte’s weathered home. She could hear the boisterous sounds of cartoons coming from the television and had to knock three times before a tired looking woman pulled back the curtain and peered outside.

  The door moaned slightly on its hinges, as it swung open. “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  “My name is Michelle Baron. I’m Amber’s language arts teacher.”

  “What has that girl done now?” Cecilia asked, introducing herself and inviting Michelle inside. “You two turn down that television!” she called out to the youngsters in the adjoining room.

  As the volume receded somewhat, she gestured to the couch and asked Michelle if she’d like something to drink.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” Michelle replied with a smile she hoped looked genuine.

  “So what’s with Amber now?”

  Michelle could see that Cecilia Harte was just as frustrated and concerned as she was. Where should she start? And would it be fair to unload her burdens about Amber on someone who was already shouldering what seemed to be an enormous load? She was just opening her mouth to say something about wanting to just get to know her students better, when Amber flung open the front door.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

  “Your teacher just got here, Amber.”

  “Actually, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to drop by,” Michelle said.