Ambereye

by Gill McKnight

  Andre knew that in a parallel universe, where both of them were straight, he would have pounced on her. Years ago, when they’d first met, he’d had that wolven super sense that she’d be the perfect mate, if only he were that way inclined. It blew him away, as he got to know her better, to find out she was gay herself. In that other universe they’d have had a dozen cubs by now. His instincts told him Hope would be an excellent mother and a loving partner.

  Was she even looking? How much had her operation affected her confidence? Did she want a love life? He so wanted Hope to find the happiness she had inadvertently brought him, both as a friend and as the person who had introduced him to his true mate, florist extraordinaire Godfrey Meyers.

  Hope and Godfrey were meeting up later that evening, and if anyone could get her to open up on the love topic, it was Godfrey. He would have to prime Godfrey on what to ask before he left on his date.

  The elevator doors dinged, and Hope disappeared from his view for another day.

  Before Andre could immerse himself back into his work, Jolie strolled by, obviously on her way home, too, judging by the coat, briefcase, and scowl.

  “Jolie,” he called out impulsively. She looked like she was going to pass on by and ignore him, but after a slight hesitation went into his office. She stood rather than sat down, as if to keep a prim distance and underscore some private point.

  “Look,” he began, trying to put the proper look of contriteness on his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t really understand what’s going on here. A few weeks ago you were in here yelling at me for appointing you an assistant. Now I’m getting the cold shoulder because she might move on?”

  “You’re turning this into a popularity contest…and I’ll lose. Hope’s a good worker. I get on just fine with her. Have you any idea how weird that is for me?”

  With an angry puff she turned to the door. “She can go after this project’s done,” she said curtly over her shoulder. “I don’t care anyway.”

  For the second time that day Andre found himself thoughtfully examining a woman in exit. Everything about Jolie perplexed him these days. She was still cranky as ever, but over the weirdest things. Like giving up Hope.

  In fact, before the question of Hope moving teams came up, Jolie had been sort of…chilled out, relaxed even. At first he thought it was because the project was rolling along splendidly. But could it be more than that? Could it be…Hope and Jolie sitting in a tree? Ha ha ha, hee hee hee.

  He smiled. This was something he just had to pursue. He reached for the phone, connected to an outside line, and dialed.

  “Hello, the Enchanted Florist, Godfrey speaking.”

  “Hi, baby, it’s me. I need a Miss Marple. Would you do some snooping for me this evening?”

  Jolie and Andre had their own dedicated parking bays in the parking lot. Moping along toward her Jeep Rubicon, Jolie glumly cursed a world that played favorites. And in particular her fabulously popular brother. She was surprised when she passed Hope sitting in her Ford Focus. Thought she left ages ago?

  Hope’s head was bent, her lower lip caught between her teeth, brow creased in concentration. Something was bothering her. Jolie hesitated before drifting over. As she got closer she could hear an ineffectual clicking from the Ford’s engine.

  “Trouble?”

  Hope looked up and opened her door. “Yeah. When I turn the key it just clicks.”

  “Did it try to start when you first turned it over?”

  “No. It’s not the battery. I had the car serviced when I was off work, and they put a new one in. It just went click from the get-go.”

  “Probably the starter,” Jolie guessed.

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s nearly six o’clock now. I won’t be able to get John over here at this time of day.”

  “John?”

  “My mechanic. The guy who looks after my car. I’ll take the bus and call him first thing in the morning. He’ll come out and collect it for me tomorrow. He’s great like that.”

  “Ah.” Jolie nodded. For a moment she thought Hope was talking about a husband or boyfriend. For some strange reason she was glad she wasn’t. “Where do you live?”

  “Sellwood.” Hope began collecting her coat and bag. “I better get a move on. I’m meeting Godfrey later—”

  “I can give you a lift,” Jolie blurted.

  Hope looked at her in surprise. “But you don’t live near me?”

  “Not too far. I’m in Lake Oswego.”

  “Oh. Not too far at all, except the traffic is crazy at this time and it will double your journey to drop me home and then head back.”

  “I’m in no hurry.” Jolie had decided this was what she was going to do. She was going to be helpful and friendly. Whatever it was popular people like Andre did, she was going to do it, too…for Hope. Jolie was going to add some sugar to her spice.

  “Come on. It’s no trouble.” She strolled over to her Jeep as if it was a done deal.

  Looking a little surprised, but at the same time grateful for the lift, Hope followed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I didn’t know you could drive.”

  “I’ve been driving since I was seventeen.”

  “No. I mean…well, I mean…” Jolie’s words dried up. She was worried she was being rude.

  “Because I only have one eye? I can drive fine. I just have to look twice, and be a little more careful. Which isn’t a bad thing, now is it?”

  Hope sat at a slight angle in the passenger seat so she could face Jolie with her good side as they talked.

  “Does it hurt?” Jolie braved the question she had asked herself at least a hundred times since finding out about Hope’s prosthetic eye.

  “I get headaches. And the eye socket can get dry and irritated. I’m not looking forward to summer and the high pollen counts. I’ve always had problems with hay fever. Next year will be brutal.”

  “Can you cry?”

  “Oh yes. Believe me. I can cry.” Hope smiled to herself. Jolie had no idea how close she had come to bursting into tears that first morning over her acidic new boss. “The tear ducts work perfectly.”

  They drove on. Hope watched Jolie scratch around in her mind for a topic not health related, obviously too embarrassed to ask any more personal questions. Her heated cheeks showed she was trying her best to be sociable. Hope looked away with a small smile. It was comfortable sitting here in a luxury Jeep. She didn’t need Jolie to force a conversation. Heaven knew she had a good handle on Jolie’s taciturn nature after several weeks working with her and didn’t really need her straining for the social niceties now.

  Out of the blue Jolie blurted, “Godfrey?”

  “Excuse me?” Hope couldn’t follow the sudden topic shift.

  “Godfrey. You said you were going to meet him later? Are you having dinner or something?” Jolie sounded relieved to have latched on to something pertinent.

  Hope smiled at the attempt at small talk. Combined with the offer of a lift home, Jolie was trying to override her earlier huff-fest. Hope appreciated the effort at cordiality.

  “We promised ourselves ages ago to take a night class together. We wanted to try ballroom dancing, but after the eye operation I don’t have the same balance. Well, not yet. It will improve over time, I’m told. So we decided on classic movie studies instead. We both love the oldies.”

  “Black-and-white movies? Real old ones?”

  “Yeah. I love them. Especially the weepies.”

  “You know, I can totally see Godfrey sharing a box of tissues with you.”

  “Turn right here. Then left. It’s about thirty yards.” Hope directed Jolie as they got closer to home. “There, mine’s the one with the yellow door.”

  Jolie pulled up before a pretty little house with a bright yellow door and neat planting around the front step. It could have belonged to Doris Day, it was so bright and cheerful. It’s just like her. Jolie sat and admired the neat paintwork and well-kept yard.

  Hop
e collected her bag and slid out of the Jeep, calling over her shoulder, “Come in for a cup of tea before you head back.”

  She slid her key in her door lock. “At least you’ll miss the worst of the traf—” Jolie was towering over her shoulder. She had left the Jeep and gotten to the doorstep in seconds flat. “—fic. Oh. You were quick.”

  “I like tea.” Jolie didn’t need to be invited in twice. Part of her was curious to see inside Hope’s pretty little home. She was unsure why, but she felt compelled to get to know more about Hope Glassy.

  “Okay. Follow me, then.” Hope pushed open the yellow door and entered. She dropped her bag on the hall floor and shrugged out of her jacket.

  “Sweetie, mommy’s home,” she called out, hanging her coat on the hook.

  Jolie froze. Hope had a kid?

  A yapping and a scurrying of paws answered the call. A small dog came barreling round the corner and hurtled toward Hope’s feet. His body was a long, cylindrical roll of ginger fur. One ear was part cocked, the other crimped and flattened to a fuzzy skull. He had a long whiskery muzzle, short legs, small beady eyes, and a whole lot of love.

  “Here’s my boy.” Hope reached down and scooped up the squirmy bundle. Jolie looked on aghast. A grumpy teenager seemed much more preferable.

  “What’s that?”

  “This is Tadpole. Tadpole, say hello to Jolie.”

  “But what is it?”

  Hope blinked. “Tadpole…my dog.” She became defensive and hugged him a little tighter as he nudged her neck and tried to deliver kisses on her chin.

  “Dog?” Jolie snorted derisively. “What breed of dog?”

  Hope bristled. “He’s bichon frise.”

  Jolie just looked at her.

  “And dachshund.”

  Still Jolie stood silent.

  “And some other stuff…”

  “Like rabbit?” Jolie looked pointedly at his bizarre, floppy ear.

  “He’s nothing like a rabbit.”

  Hope brewed a pot of tea and they settled into her bright, comfortable living room. Tadpole curled up on her lap, his head on her belly. His half-closed, contented eyes were riveted on Jolie.

  Jolie glared back at the little weasel. Her eyes narrowed as she watched his ratty little head rise and fall on Hope’s stomach with each breath. His claim of ownership was unmistakable and totally confident, and Jolie took great exception to it. Every way she turned these days, her tenuous hold on Hope was being challenged.

  Hope chatted away, formulating some of her ideas for a team morale boost. “…so? Do you think that sounds all right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Jolie was deep in a staring contest with Tadpole, and grunted appropriately at the pauses in Hope’s monologue. Tadpole yawned rudely in her general direction and stretched out his stumpy little legs, the epitome of a relaxed canine in his own den. He was giving out a clear message; he was the top dog in this house.

  “It will be great for morale,” Hope prattled on.

  “Uh-huh.” Jolie was livid. Her nostrils flared. How dare this little ball of ginger crud diss me? Where she came from, he was less than a hors d’oeuvre. I’m gonna eat him the minute her back’s turned.

  Tadpole twitched in alarm as he picked up her predator vibes.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Hope asked.

  “Uh-huh. Yeah.” And use his tail bone as a toothpick. Tadpole burrowed deeper into Hope’s lap.

  “With gift vouchers and maybe…” Hope paused mid-sentence, noting Jolie was lost to her, eyes glued firmly on Tadpole. She understood totally. He was adorable, and Jolie was probably a dog lover and had fallen head over heels for him. Tadpole was so cute and handsome; everybody fell in love with him.

  “Okay, I’m glad we agree. I’ll start organizing it after the Thanksgiving break.” She smiled happily.

  “What’s that?”

  “The Christmas staff party. My, look at the time. I have to get ready. Godfrey will be here soon. And I’ve still to feed this little fella. Don’t I, Taddy?”

  Tadpole waved his tail like a victory flag as they escorted Jolie out.

  “Thank you so much for the lift, Jolie.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks for the tea.”

  “Drive safe.” Hope waved.

  The yellow door clicked quietly shut.

  “Look at your happy tail. You liked her, didn’t you? Good boy.”

  Hope tickled Tadpole’s mismatched ears before heading to the kitchen to feed him. “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

  The city streets spun past Jolie as she headed home to Lake Oswego. But she barely noticed the traffic; she was on automatic, her head full of her visit to Hope’s house. It was a lovely home, and she’d felt at ease there. Usually Jolie was stiff and awkward in new places, but not Hope’s. Hope’s place was comfortable and cozy, suffused with her scent. Hope had a pleasing scent. It still clung to the fabric of Jolie’s passenger seat. She inhaled it deeply and examined it again. Her tongue tingled.

  Jolie was excited by the visit but was unsure why. Even Hope’s jealous little squirt of a dog hadn’t soured the experience. What was his name…Rathole? Something daft like that. Well, he’d just have to learn, along with Andre, that Hope was hers.

  Pfft, males. They were so stupid and possessive.

  The Philadelphia Story was tonight’s classic movie, and Godfrey and Hope dropped into a little bistro near the college for a light supper before class.

  “Next week it’s Now Voyager.” Godfrey reached over and grabbed Hope’s forearm. “Oh, Hope. I can never thank you enough for suggesting this. It’s the evening class of my dreams.”

  Hope laughed. “Well, you’re hardly going to get that bad boy of yours into a movie theater. He can’t sit still a minute.”

  “Tell me. A roller coaster is more his style.” Godfrey sighed. “Yet another cultural gulf between me and my man.”

  Hope giggled at his theatrics.

  “So…” Godfrey continued. “The Philadelphia Story. What do we think?”

  “We think it’s wonderful. Anything with Katharine Hepburn is wonderful.”

  “Of course. You know, you sort of remind me of her.”

  Hope exploded in a loud guffaw. “Yeah, stick thin with no chest and good at golf? I don’t think so—”

  “I mean her attitude, silly.”

  “Oh, thank you. I see you as a young Robert Redford.”

  “Why, thank you, too.” He preened. “I want the whole world, outside of our mutual appreciation society, to know it.”

  “We are the only appreciation we need.”

  “Body wise I see you as a young Dorothy Lamour. But with our Kate’s toughness and irascible spirit.”

  “Ooh, I like that. And I’m already a friend of Dorothy. I loved those cheesy On the Road movies.” She raised her glass and clinked with Godfrey in a toast. “Here’s to On the Road to Recovery.”

  “Chin-chin,” he said. They took a sip of their sprizters.

  “Here’s to On the Road to L’Amour.” Godfrey offered up his toast with eyebrows raised suggestively.

  Hope laughed. “I think I’m more parked up than on the road to love at the moment.”

  “I refuse to believe that. A vital young woman like yourself? Why, you ought to be out there on the freeway of love. In the fast lane, breaking all the speed limits with your hardtop all the way down.”

  They both dissolved into giggles.

  “A hardtop all the way down would be lovely.” Hope sniggered into her wineglass. Godfrey swiped at her arm, giggling along with her.

  “No, seriously.” Godfrey sobered first. “Is there no one out there who catches your eye?”

  “My good eye or my bad eye?”

  “Touché. Now you have an eye for all types.”

  “To be honest, I’m not in the mood. It’s the last thing on my mind at the moment.”

  “Well, of course. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “No. I haven’t been through a lot.
I’m still slap bang in the middle of it. In three months I get another scan. It’s scary to wait all that time to find out if I’m still cancer free. And then it has to happen all over again three months after that. And again, and again. How can I bring a burden like that into someone’s life?”

  “It will be okay, Hope. You’re a fighter.” Godfrey leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Anyone would be blessed to have you in their life. And I should know.”

  “Thanks, Godfrey. But seriously, the last thing I need right now is a relationship. All I want to do is see how much of my old self I can recoup. Some mornings I wake up and if it wasn’t for my job and the day-to-day structure it gives me, I don’t know what I would do.”

  “Same as you do very morning, Hope. Get out of bed and go live life to the fullest. You have a wonderful life because you are a wonderful person. And you are very much loved. Never forget that.”

  Godfrey was stern now.

  Hope smiled. He was right and she was being far too maudlin.

  Time to snap out of it. “I do have good things in my life. I have you and Andre, and the best bunch of friends imaginable. I love my job and the people I work with—”

  “And you have the best boss in the world.”

  “I assume you mean Andre.”

  “Whom you can twist round your little finger.” Godfrey wiggled his pinky.

  “Now I know you mean Andre.”

  “No. I mean the Klepto Queen.”

  “Jolie?” Hope gave a loud, unladylike snort.

  “Careful lest she steal your heart,” Godfrey whispered with B-movie melodrama.

  “You’re such an idiot. Twist her round my finger, indeed. If you had any idea of the amount of energy I put into outmaneuvering her on a daily basis. Why, it could fuel a rocket.”

  “Well, she is a rocket. She’s a serious good looker.”

  “She’s some sort of explosive device. But I think I found her defuse button.”

  “Mercy.”

  “Shut up, Godfrey. Get your mind out of the dirt.”

  “Dirt helps my unsavory thoughts grow and blossom. Don’t diss it, dish it.” He wagged a finger in lecture at her. “Seriously, what do you think of her?”