by W. A. R.
He was expelled and had to transfer after that incident. His parents decided to move to Colby, where he spent the rest of his teenage years. He didn’t date much, not that he couldn’t. Over the years he had lost the pimples and braces, his body grew in to fit with his big nose and feet, his eyes became more symmetrical and he grew to be at least 6’ 0. He was no longer short and stocky; he was tall and well-defined. He hardly recognized himself in the mirror anymore. At 16, he started dating a young woman and things heated up pretty quickly. He thought he loved her, thought he knew what love was. It wasn’t long before she found out she was pregnant and after much discussion they decided to keep the baby, and at the legal age of 17 they were married. It lasted about six months before she just disappeared, leaving a note explaining that she had met someone else and couldn’t handle a child. He had accepted it rather easily, and his son did as well. After some time, he decided to move to El Dorado in search of a better job opportunity. He often wondered about the girl from long ago, but had never asked; he wouldn’t. He had so much going on, and he was sure she had forgotten about him.
Some time went by rather swiftly, and after his parents had taken Michael for the weekend, which surprised him greatly, he decided to go to a bar one night, just to get out. A few hours after he had gotten there however, who would come in but big Brian himself. He had sat beside Miles at the dimly lit bar and soon they were good friends. This went on every few weeks or so, and Brian had never asked him his name, and vice versa. After many discussions of their lives, they knew that their friendship would remain only at the bar, where they could peaceably let off steam.
But, things are always bound to change, as one night Brian had too much to drink and decided he wanted to fight with the biggest guy in the place. Miles, of course, had backed him up, and they had both gotten thrown out, but not without their complementary black eyes and busted lips. Miles had stuck him in his truck and drove him wherever Brian told him to go, the both of them laughing at the night’s events. They had driven to Thurston, and Miles had pulled to a stop in front of an older white house not far from the school. Nostalgia had been eating away at him since they hit Thurston city limits, but he decided to not let it drag him down too much until he was on his way back home. He had clambered out of the truck, rounding the passenger’s side to open the door for Brian. He assisted Brian in getting to the front door, which was a monumental task in itself. Once there, he adjusted his hold on Brian and knocked on the door. Within seconds, the porch light was on and the door opened.
Miles nearly dropped Brian right then and there. Amber stood there in the dim lighting, one hand on the door, wearing a long, sleeveless brown nightie. Her blond hair cascaded wildly down her back and over her shoulders; her feet were bare against the plush carpet of the house. Her other hand rested on her obviously very pregnant belly. Oh, did she wear pregnancy well and had matured into a stunning young woman. He felt his breath hitch in his lungs as he stared at her. He had never seen anything so beautiful.
“Brian?” she asked in concern, looking from Miles to Brian, going to grab his other arm.
“No!” Miles exclaimed, making her jump and stop mid-step. He looked at her blue eyes and saw that she had been crying. In all of their years, and all of the things he had done to her, he had never seen her cry; not once. Miles hefted Brian up a little higher on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be doing that in your condition. I’ve got him; just tell me where you would like him.” He offered and she easily breezed aside, allowing him to pass through the door.
“To the left is the couch, if you don’t mind.” She said softly as Miles followed her directions. “What happened?” she asked, as if she had no idea where he had gone or what he had been doing. The thought of dropping Brian in an angry fit had crossed his mind, but what purpose would that serve? He had left his stunning and pregnant wife at home to go drink? She had been crying for Pete’s sake! Asshole.
“Um…he was just having a few drinks at a bar and we ended up getting into a fight with this big guy…” he trailed off from there, turning and adjusting to place Brian easily on the couch.
“Are you both okay?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. He paused, watching her, wondering if she really had no idea who he was as she wasn’t addressing it. After a moment of inquiring eyes, he realized that he probably seemed like an inappropriate dunce.
“Yea…um…yes ma’am.” He replied, turning his focus to Brian.
After he had lowered Brian on the couch, he watched as she covered him with a fleece throw before turning to him and ushering him out of the living room. She sniffled as she closed the door and he felt his heart break a little. He felt so…guilty. She brushed past him, the brief contact burning his skin.
“Would you care for something to drink Mister…” She trailed off, facing him in curiosity. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to decline. He couldn’t stay there and talk to her. His heart wouldn’t allow for it to happen without beating right out of his chest.
“Preston.” He provided her, certain she wouldn’t recognize him. “Miles Preston. And no thank you. I really should be going.” He said softly, turning and heading towards the door. He felt uncomfortable, sad, and angry. She had not even recognized him, who he was, and a part of him died on the inside. How could she have forgotten him so easily? Then again, it had been a little over seven years since they had last seen one another; he was probably the last person she would be expecting. Not to mention, she was married and pregnant! Her husband was passed out on the couch. That thought brought a fire to his gut, and he fought the urge to ball his hands into fists. Brian was his friend, but deep down, he hated him for having that opportunity with her and wasting it. All of these thoughts warred inside his head as he made a beeline for the door.
“I thought that was you.” he heard her say gently, and realized she was addressing him. He stopped walking and slowly turned to face her. She stood before him, hands on her hips, and she looked so confused and vulnerable, it was almost his undoing. “You went to Thurston as a boy, didn’t you?”
He swallowed, his heart beating hard in his chest. Crap. “Yes ma’am.” He shifted uneasily under her scrutiny. So she had remembered him. She smiled warmly at him.
“I went there too.”
He gulped. “I know. You’re Amber McDermott. It’s nice to see you again.” He spoke quickly, trying to rush away from her and ease his wildly beating heart.
“Miles wait!” she called to him almost desperately. He stopped and turned to her, unable to resist. She looked at him as if there was so much she wanted to say. Instead, she licked her lips and sighed. “Thank you.” She expressed softly, and he cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for…for Brian or for all those years ago…or possibly even both. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“I am so sorry about your husband. Had I known he had a pregnant wife I would have sent him home much earlier. I really am so sorry.” He spat out rapidly. He wanted to rip out his tongue and stomp on it. What had he been thinking? Thank God he didn’t tell her that Brian had never mentioned her. All of the emotions cascading around him gnawed at his nerves. For a long moment, she stared at him, her face changing in realization; shock, then confusion, and finally a smile rested on her face.
“Brian is not my husband. Brian is my brother.” She told him, taking a slight step towards him. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “I’ve never been married.” And then her voice was sad, and her eyes filled with tears. “I apologize for my behavior. It has just been a very tiring few days. The father of my child,” she paused, sniffling a little and unconsciously rubbing the swell of her baby bump, “he died earlier this week.” She closed her eyes, and covered them with the palm of her hand. He knew she was crying again, attempting to hide it, and he wanted to do nothing but hold her and assure her that everything was going to be alright. Instead, however, he just stood there motionless and watched as she slowly gathered her wits and be
gan wiping her eyes. “I am so sorry…” she told him, thoroughly embarrassed. He took a step towards her.
“There is nothing to be sorry for.” He then shifted on his feet nervously before making eye contact with her again. “And I must say, I admire your strength.” He said gently as they stared at one another. She smiled at him warmly through her tears and he felt as if she could see right through him and into his soul. She motioned towards the kitchen.
“Please, stay and have a drink with me, if you aren’t in any hurry. I don’t want to keep you.” She said softly and he knew what she was assuming. Could he really deny her in this state?
“There’s nothing but a dark house waiting for me.” He told her and he witnessed another of her smiles. He couldn’t resist grinning back at her. “I can stay for a few minutes.” She turned back to the kitchen, leaving him to follow dutifully behind. She reached for some cups in the cabinet and then turned to the coffeepot, filling both cups. She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. He was standing beside the table, tense and unsure.
“You can have a seat.” She told him on a soft laugh and he quickly obliged her suggestion. After a moment she turned, handing him a blue cup filled with delicious smelling brown liquid. “It’s decaf. I hope you don’t mind.” She told him before easing into the chair opposite him. He watched her every move; he couldn’t help it. “I hope I am not overstepping any boundaries by inviting you to stay…” she trailed off and he glanced up at her, her blue eyes unsure and worried.
He quickly shook his head. “No of course not.” He assured her and she grinned.
“Thank you again for bringing him home. It’s been a very long week for the both of us.” She told him and he took a sip of the warm liquid.
“I understand.” He replied, and he did understand. Decaf or not, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep for the rest of that night.
She moved slightly, lifting her arm to take a sip of her coffee. After a moment, she smiled at him. “How have you been? It’s been years.”
He felt nervous and was unsure of what to say and so his answers came out clipped and short, though he didn’t intend for them to be. “I’ve been alright, I guess. After Thurston, I…” he paused briefly noting how intense her focus was, how she was hanging on to his answer. “I moved to Colby in Louisiana. I grew up…got married…”
Her face flushed and she sat back in her seat, her eyes wide. She almost seemed…hurt. “You’re married. Oh God I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to visit. This is so…inappropriate.” She cast her eyes away from him, embarrassed. He grinned at her. “Please, just…”
“She left me years ago. There is nothing inappropriate happening.” He told her on a smile. Except the thoughts I am having of you right now. He thought to himself. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ease the tension gripping him at having his one most desired woman so very close to him.
She looked up at him sadly. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
Looking at her, he knew his next words could never be truer. “I’m not.”
She twirled her cup in her fingers thoughtfully and there was no denying the blush coating her cheeks. “Miles, may I ask you something?” she asked of him, never meeting his eyes. He loved how his name sounded falling from her lips.
“Of course.” He told her, taking yet another sip of his drink. She sighed resolutely.
“Do you ever wish that some things in your life could have gone differently?” she asked him. He swallowed the drink that was in his mouth. It was a loaded question. Of course he did, sometimes; not that he wasn’t thankful for Michael, he just wished that there had been a point he could have spoken to her, changed things between them. He wished then that he could have done something before that would have brought her to him.
“Sometimes.” He answered honestly. Again, her eyes pierced through him and he felt his heart beat faster. “But then again, if that were the case, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now having coffee with you.” She laughed at this and he mentally kicked himself while grinning in the process. Had he really just said that?
“That is very true. Thank you for that.” She smiled and turned her eyes from her cup to him. Their gazes locked and the air in the room became thick, the pull between the two of them sizzling.
“You’re welcome.” He replied and he watched as she took a sip of her coffee before she shifted in her seat. A blush crawled up her neck as she turned her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry about your fiancé.” He told her and he saw the pain slap across her face at his words and he instantly regretted his words. The pain was the fear of raising a child alone, he realized, not of losing her fiancé.
“I’m not.” She said softly, mirroring his words and glancing at her cup. His heartrate picked up significantly. She sighed then, smiling a little at him. “Everything happens for a reason, I guess, even if we question that reasoning.”
“And what do you think the reasoning for that is?” he asked her, and she sighed, twirling her cup between her fingers.
She shrugged, being cryptic in her answers. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” She replied before catching his gaze a smiling. “What would be a lesson for someone may just be heartache for another. For me, it was a lesson.”
Miles couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you always so perceptive?”
“I try to be.” She replied before glancing at the couch where Brian shifted. Miles glanced that way as well. “He doesn’t live here, by the way. He just knows I won’t gripe at him for getting drunk and in a fight.”
“You’re a good sister.” He told her gently and she chuckled, making his heart pick up.
“I’m a good person thank you very much.” She said lightly and he returned her laughter before she spoke again. Her eyes dug into him, chilling the blood that coursed through his veins. “You are too. Thank you, again, for Brian’s safety and for sitting and talking with me.” She said, her blue eyes holding him hostage. The silence grew louder and he felt the tension grip him, winding him tighter and tighter until he hurriedly stood, placing his cup on the table and turning towards the door. He had to get out of there.
“Um…You’re …uh…welcome” He stammered nervously, turning and making his way out of the kitchen. She stood and followed after him, confused and maybe a little hurt. “I really should go. Ya’ll have a good night.” He threw over his shoulder before he rushed out, basically running to the truck parked on the curb.
He had kept up with her after that incident. Meeting Brian for drinks was still an upstanding invitation, and Brian never mentioned her and Miles never asked. He realized later that it had been because he was so protective of her, and it seemed as if he had forgotten the night Miles had dropped him off, aside from Brian addressing him as ‘Preston’ every so often. One weekend in the midst of their drinks, he received a phone call, and Miles, having overheard, knew that Amber was having her baby.
The following day, he and Michael had made a stop by a florist shop. He hadn’t wanted to get her your typical ‘congrats on the baby!’ flowers; he wanted something more personal. He picked out a large bouquet of lilies, white roses, and baby’s breath. He had put a lot of thought into what to write on the card, but had finally decided on:
Everything will be alright. You’ve got this.
This, he penned with a nervous hand, Michael watching him incredulously. After paying for the flowers, they made their way to the hospital. He was a nervous wreck, unsure of how to explain himself to her, or how to approach the entire situation. He knew that she was alone, and that loneliness when raising a child is a perpetual torment. It is definitely a struggle, and he wanted, no…needed her to know that she wasn’t alone and that someone had faith in her if no one else did. The knot in his stomach pulled taut as he approached the reception desk, flowers in hand. He had asked the nurse on duty where her room was, and she had pointed the way, informing him that she was asleep and to just go on in and leave the flowers, not to wake her up. He was told that she had had
a very long and painful night and needed her rest. He nodded in understanding, feeling a little better at not having to confront her with everything. He told Michael to stand against the wall and wait for him before turning to the door.
Easing the door open, he took one step in, peering around the corner at her back as she lay in the bed. The baby wasn’t in the room, and was instead down in the nursery. Taking a deep breath, he was about to take another step when he saw her shoulders shudder. She wasn’t asleep as the nurses had assumed. He stopped, rooted to the spot as her sobs became audible. They wrenched at his heart. She moaned gravely before choking on a sob. She began shaking her head, her hands covering her face as he realized she brought her knees to her chest.
“I can’t do this on my own…” she sobbed, and he felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He swallowed thickly, every part of him being torn to shreds. “What am I going to do…” she whimpered before going into another fit of sobs. Slowly, he eased back into the hallway, gently shutting the door behind him. She didn’t need to see him; it wouldn’t help matters any. Then he glanced at Michael, who watching him in wonder and he had an idea. Stepping over and pulling Michael down the hallway a bit, he knelt down in front of him, fidgeting with the flowers in his hands.
“What’s going on?” his intuitive five year old asked, studying the flowers his dad held. Miles sighed, glancing at the flowers as well. ‘I thought we were going to give the flowers to the pretty lady.”
Miles cut the boy a look. “How do you know she’s pretty?” he asked, intrigued. The boy shrugged and looked down the hallway at her door.
“Just do.” He replied, reaching up and pulling on a little piece of plastic that held the flowers together.
“Well,” Miles began, attempting to choose the right words, “The pretty lady is really sad…”
“Why is she sad?” he asked, locking eyes with Miles. Miles felt his heart drop as he found the right words.
“Because, son, her…her heart is lonely. And she needs something special to help her.” Miles said with a small devious smile. The boy grinned back, already knowing where the conversation was going. “I need you to take her these flowers, son, and tell her how pretty she is.”