by Ruby Laska
He wished he could continue to watch her for a while, looking for clues as she moved, and spoke, and went about her day. Clues to where her old self had gone.
And whether he had been the one to drive it into hiding.
But Sheryn had noticed him. The moment was gone.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just looking for Amber next door, and your door was open...”
“Well, we’re delighted you found us!” Sheryn said, practically bouncing off the bed to greet him. Tearing his eyes away from Amber, Mac noted that Sheryn was far more diminutive than he would have expected, barely over five feet, but she gave off a warmth and kindness that surprised him, as well. Mac had always enjoyed her music, but as much of a pleasure as it would ordinarily have been to meet the star, it was all he could do to keep focused on the hand she extended long enough to shake it.
“I’m Sheryn,” she said coyly.
“Sheryn, please let me introduce Lawrence McBaine, mayor of Heartbreak,” Amber said, a slight tremor in her voice the only crack in her elegant armor, the only sign that she might be as nervous as he was. When she turned to him, her gaze focused somewhere below his own, refusing to make contact. “Mac, this is my employer and friend, Sheryn Sawyer.”
It was obvious that Amber hadn’t yet explained his existence to Sheryn, who regarded him with unabashed curiosity while she accepted the hand he offered and gave it a small squeeze. To make the moment easier for Amber, he greeted Sheryn pleasantly but coolly, as though rubbing shoulders with celebrities was an everyday occurrence for him.
“Sit!” Sheryn commanded. “It’s not the Taj Mahal, but we’re getting pretty comfy here, aren’t we, Amber? I wish I could offer you something. We had the most marvelous breakfast, a darling boy brought it over from the Sunset Diner—what do you call it, fried mush? Wonderful, and there’s something you folks do to the coffee around here. It’s heaven, just heaven.” As Sheryn rattled on, indicating the single chair in the room while she and Amber resumed their seats on the bed, Mac stole another look at Amber.
Her pretty hands, once again, gave her away. Though a calm smile was frozen on her lips, her fingers clutched at the blankets covering the bed, twisting the fabric nervously. Her eyes darted back and forth between Sheryn and Mac.
Her past and present were unexpectedly meeting. He was a link to everything she had left behind, all the demons she’d buried along with the forgotten joy and passion, locked somewhere deep inside. And Sheryn was the present, representing the years of hard work, the struggle to make something of herself and move out into the world. Mac was aware of the contrast they made—one in heavy old work boots, the other in a cloud of expensive perfume—and considered for the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours how much Amber’s life had changed.
“Are you an old friend of Amber’s?” Sheryn asked.
Mac glanced quickly at Amber before answering. “I suppose you could say that. We once knew each other pretty well. We happened to run into each other last night and had a chance to, uh, catch up on things.”
“How marvelous!” Sheryn clapped her hands together in crafty delight as she stole an inquiring glance at Amber. “And now we’ll all be working together. What could be more fun than renewing an old friendship?”
Amber’s cheeks flared in response. “We were planning to spend some more time touring today, Mac. Sheryn really wants to get a feel for the town.” Her fingers brushed unseen flecks of dust from her crisply pressed skirt.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Sheryn said, patting Mac’s arm firmly. “On your way, you two! I couldn’t possibly stand in the way of such a wonderful reunion.”
“But Sheryn,” Amber protested. “You said—”
“You know, what I’d really like is to go to a show,” Sheryn interrupted. “I believe I’ll catch that new picture I saw on the marquee down the street. After all, this is sort of a vacation. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been to the movies? Oh, and I would love a bucket of that wonderful buttery movie popcorn...”
As she talked on, the ring of a cell phone sitting on the nightstand filled the humid room. Sheryn raised an eyebrow as they all looked at it. “That’s yours, dear,” she said.
Mac didn’t take his eyes off Amber as she answered.
“Oh—hi,” she said, and she glanced at Mac and then quickly away, turning her body slightly. The gesture was small, but spoke volumes, as Mac realized the call was private.
And from the tone of her voice, not entirely welcome at the moment.
Mac and Sheryn exchanged an awkward smile. Conversation would make it difficult for Amber to hear her caller, so they sat in silence, Mac’s tall frame uncomfortable in the flimsy chair. Sheryn played with a bracelet, the large faux jewels catching the light and sending rainbows of color around the room while each pretended not to be interested in Amber’s hushed words.
“Come...here? You’re kidding, right?...No, no, I just meant, well, I don’t know what exactly you’d do here. Sheryn and I are keeping pretty busy...”
At the obvious lie Mac chanced a glance at Sheryn, who merely shrugged. After a pause, Amber shot a look at Mac and away before he could read what was written in her eyes.
“Can it wait until I get back?...No, I just thought we could go somewhere decent—there’s not exactly anywhere nice here. I mean, nothing you’d really like. Sure....No, I’m looking forward to it too. Really. I’m glad you wanted to...mmm-hmmm...You too.”
The last words were practically whispered. They could only have answered one declaration.
I love you.
Another man had professed his love to Amber while Mac watched, and it felt as though he’d been rammed in the chest with an enormous weight. They were words that at one time he’d had the right to use.
Of course she had someone in her life. An attractive woman, gorgeous even, living in a city of bright lights and glamorous parties, home to thousands of beautiful people, some of them successful, powerful, rich.
Everything she’d left Heartbreak for.
Everything she left you for, a taunting voice nagged from deep inside.
Abruptly Mac turned on his heel.
“I’m afraid I may be in the position of having to disappoint you, ma’am,” he said to Sheryn, his voice clipped. “Even though I enjoy your music, I don’t think Heartbreak is the right spot on the map for you and your proposed park.”
“Oh, now, don’t you think it’s a little early in our friendship to be talking about disappointments?” Sheryn purred, taking the hand he extended and holding it in her two petite hands. “We’ll save all that gruesome business stuff until my husband gets here. He’s the brains of the show. Him and Amber. Right now I just want to get to know every little inch of this cute little place.”
“Ah, well, I hope you enjoy yourself, then. Amber should make an excellent guide. I’d wager that she knows this place as well as any of our citizens.”
He managed to choke out a curt “Ma’am” to Sheryn as he stalked out the door, but didn’t glance in Amber’s direction.
If he’d fostered any idle thoughts about spending a little more time with the woman he’d once loved, they were sealed off for certain now. Mac might be a stubborn man, but he wasn’t stupid enough to be made a fool of twice by the same woman.
As Amber slowly put the phone down, Sheryn crossed the room and grasped Amber’s shoulders, forcing her to look her in the eye.
“Out with it,” she said. “What is the story between you and that gorgeous man who you just ran out of here?”
“I did nothing of the sort!” Amber protested, her heart sinking even further. Out of her peripheral vision, she’d watched Mac’s quick exit. It had taken everything she had to keep from dropping the phone and begging him to stay.
“Sugar, you might as well have thrown a bucket of ice water at him,” Sheryn said, frowning. “You can be damned frosty when you want to, you know that? And I suppose that was Lover Boy on the phone?”
�
��I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Amber said irritably. Her head was suddenly pounding and she massaged her temples, but the touch offered no relief. Too many thoughts were spinning in her mind to sort through them all.
She found herself wishing they were in one of the swank luxury hotels they sometimes stayed in when touring, if only so there would be a mini bar. Amber rarely drank more than a glass of wine or two, but a stiff shot of whiskey seemed as though it might be the tonic she needed at the moment. Without bothering to ask, she opened the lid to Sheryn’s makeup kit, knowing there was a bottle of aspirin tucked inside, and helped herself to two pills.
“I’m sorry,” Sheryn said, sounding anything but. “Was it Dean?” She repeated her question, pronouncing the name with distaste.
“I don’t know why you’ve taken such a sudden dislike to him,” Amber said. “He was your opening act, after all. You picked him. You thought he had talent. If I recall you even took him out shopping and dressed him from head to toe, remember? Hey, did you finish that bottle of water?” she added before Sheryn had a chance to respond.
“Sure did,” Sheryn said. “Every last drop. Hours ago. And I bet you can’t even get the stuff here. They’d probably tell you to go get a drink out of the hose out back. I keep telling you, what this town needs is a decent convenience store.”
Amber glared at Sheryn. “There’s no reason for both of us to get cranky,” she said. “Though it does look like I’m winning that bet.”
“Not on your life. All I need is a few hours in an air-conditioned movie theater and a big tub of popcorn and I’ll be good as new,” Sheryn said stubbornly. “I love this town. It’s becoming like my home away from home.”
“Well, you sure aren’t acting like it,” Amber said. “We were supposed to be coming up with ideas, remember? Getting a feel for the town’s economic situation, looking over sites for the park, developing attractions to take advantage of local history and features...”
“Oh, the guys can do that,” Sheryn said, waving her hand, clearly disinterested. By “the guys” Amber knew she meant every professional who had ever been in her employment; she saw them all as a big team whose only purpose in life was to manage her affairs. She’d probably be surprised to learn that her accountants, lawyers, and promoters had other clients.
Of course, that was part of her charm. At the moment, though, Sheryn’s single-mindedness was coming dangerously close to opening up a discussion Amber did not want to have.
“When Gray gets here, you know he’s going to want to hear how we’ve spent our time,” she tried again. “I don’t have to tell you he doesn’t have time to waste.”
“Don’t worry about that big old pussycat,” Sheryn exclaimed, laughing. “Have you ever known that man to be able to stay mad at me?”
Amber just glared in response.
“Now let’s have the truth about Mac.”
“Dean’s on his way here, you know,” Amber said, evading Sheryn’s queries, though she knew it was pointless. Sheryn would keep after her, questioning and nagging and cajoling, until she found out the truth. Once a weakness had been exposed, there was no way to keep the woman out of her business.
“What for, did he discover there’s a few women left in Tennessee who haven’t bought his latest release yet?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, he isn’t that bad,” Amber protested, though Dean’s endless appetite for self-promotion was becoming well-known among country music’s inner circle. “He just said he had something important to talk about.”
“Really?” Sheryn said, perking up a bit. “Important enough to come all the way here? How intriguing.”
“Don’t get so excited,” Amber grumbled. “Nothing juicy is going to happen.”
“Oh? Why, are you planning to be too busy working?”
Amber shifted uncomfortably. “No, not exactly—”
“Amber, some day I swear I am going to lose my patience with you. Lately you seem determined to throw yourself even further into your work. Sugar, Gray and I can’t possibly be paying you what you’re worth. I know I demand a lot of you, but don’t you think it’s time you found yourself a nice man to settle down with?”
“Oh, Sheryn,” Amber sighed. “I was determined not to talk about this.”
“Honey, talking to me doesn’t count. I’m your best friend, remember? And my lips are sealed.”
“It’s just...I used to think that Dean was the right man.”
“You mean...you don’t think so any more?” Sheryn’s voice was suddenly carefully neutral. As much as Sheryn loved to tease her about Dean, Amber knew that Sheryn would accept him if things got...serious. Whatever that meant. Which they weren’t going to. After all, she’d just practically broken up with him, right? Although she wasn’t quite ready to share that tidbit with Sheryn.
“I don’t know.” Amber’s headache was worsening by the minute. “He’s got everything I ever wanted. He’s driven, and successful, and smart, and he cares about me.”
“Well, you’re just going to have to figure out if that’s enough, darling,” Sheryn said, reaching to give her hand a squeeze. “You can plan and plan, and maybe even almost talk yourself into loving the wrong man, but in the end what happens? The heart knows. It knows.”
Amber let herself be comforted by the warmth of Sheryn’s hands. Sometimes Sheryn surprised her with the depth of her caring. “Like...you and Gray? Did your heart know then?”
“Yes,” Sheryn said softly. “First time I laid eyes on that impossible man, I never imagined I’d marry him six months later. But it was in the stars. I could no more have prevented myself from falling in love with Gray than I could stop the sun from rising tomorrow.”
With a final squeeze, Sheryn released her hand, and Amber stood and stretched, anxious to put Dean—and Mac too, for that matter—out of her mind.
“Oh well, love’s the last thing I need right now, anyway. I really am too busy. Excuse me for just a second, won’t you?”
Ducking into the tiny bathroom and shutting the door part way behind her, Amber poured tap water from the bathroom sink into a plastic cup and swallowed the aspirin tablets. Then, she splashed some cool water on her face and blotted it with a towel.
She felt a little better. Not much, but enough.
Emerging from the bathroom, she managed a small smile.
“Sheryn, would you mind too much if I tagged along to that movie?”
“Not at all.” Despite the trademark big grin on Sheryn’s face, Amber could tell her friend was worried about her. At least she had the good judgment to give the subject a rest. “I’ll even buy the popcorn.”
Several hours later, Amber reached for the air conditioning button on the console of Sheryn’s sporty little Mercedes, but then changed her mind and slid down the windows as she pulled out of the motel parking lot. The car was as comfortable to her as her own, since she did most of the driving when she and Sheryn were together. She relaxed in the buttery leather seat and enjoyed the rush of the wind on her face.
The movie had done her good; a couple of hours in the cool darkness in the theater allowed her to take a rest from her thoughts. The images on the screen barely registered, though the light-hearted comedy had Sheryn in stitches, her unrestrained laughter filling the near-empty theater.
It was good to hear her laugh. As had happened so many times before, Amber took comfort in her friend’s happiness, burying her own worries in the comfort of close friendship. Gray would be here soon, and Sheryn’s mood was sure to lift several more notches.
Still, Amber sensed a phase of her life coming to an end. Not much longer, she could tell, would she be content to live through others, her own tightly-controlled life pathetically empty compared to those around her, who had families, children, hobbies, dreams.
Who had passion.
Unresolved issues demanded to be settled. It was time. She was an adult woman, and she had a life to live. Parts of her long locked away sensed the coming release and demanded to
make themselves heard.
Once, long ago, she had followed wherever her heart led, opening her arms wide to take in all that life had to offer. While she might never be so free again, she had to learn to trust once more.
The key was Mac. Seeing him again had made it all so clear to her. She had been going through the motions of living, but for so long she’d been just cruising along on auto-pilot, choosing the safest path at every fork in the road. The feelings she had for Dean were suddenly revealed for what they were, a thin comfort built on the fear that she would never find anything better.
Mac. If only...
She angrily shook the head, as though the motion could shake free all her feelings for him. Even if things were different, if they lived in the same town, if they hadn’t pursued dramatically different lifestyles, if there was a ghost of a chance they would have enough in common after all these years...
Even if all those things were true, she reminded herself, they would never erase the fact that, when it came down to the wire, Mac had looked over his options and chosen. When she’d come to him and begged her to leave with her that night, to trust her and leave Heartbreak in the rear view mirror of his old car, he’d said no.
He’d made his choice, and it was permanent.
But he begged you to stay, said the voice inside, the one she worked so hard to ignore, the one who never let her forget what she’d given up so long ago. You never told him the whole story. And if you had told him everything, Mac would have realized that Pete McBaine left you no choice but to leave.
Because if she stayed, if she saw Mac again, even once, she wouldn’t be strong enough to keep the awful bargain his father had driven.
But Pete’s dead, her heart pleaded. What could it matter now?
Dead, perhaps, to her. But not to Mac. Pete McBaine lived on, growing bigger than life itself as the years passed, becoming for Mac a symbol of his struggle to make it in the world. He would figure into the stories Mac would pass down to his children, watch over the family from some mythical place where fathers genuinely wanted the best for their children, no matter what.
