“I’ll help you clean up. How ’bout that?” Bree nods and shows her mother to the sink, where they wash all the brushes and paint trays. Bree gives the brushes a thorough rinse. She shows Amber where to hang them to dry. Amber is impressed at her level of responsibility. They make their way back to the kart. Bree places the clean paint trays on a nearby shelf.
“So, what made you want to put Daddy’s logo on your kart?”
“I just like it.”
“Is that how you remember him?” The question slips out before she realizes. Up until now, Amber has been cautious of asking Bree about her memories of Darren. Mostly because it brought to the surface her own pain. And she hates breaking down in front of Bree.
“Yeah. I like to picture him in his uniform.” Bree’s simple answer delivers an element of comfort to Amber that she didn’t expect. “It’s kinda like he’s right there with me.”
Amber nods and blurts out, “Okay, kiddo. Is there anything else we need to do before we head home?”
Bree looks around. “Nope. We’re done.”
“Okay, well, I parked at the school, so we need to walk . . .”
“Actually, can I walk home with David?” Amber is suddenly aware of a whole new level of independence that wasn’t there just two weeks ago. Did all this stem from the go-karts?
“Um. Sure. See you at home for dinner.”
Bree joins David and the other kids who trickle out of the garage to waiting parents. Amber gathers her purse and heads for the door. Cody joins her.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think she’s growing up too fast,” Amber jokes.
“She’s a great kid.”
“It’s nice to see her happy. She doesn’t always show me that side at home.” That’s not what I mean. “I’m not a bad parent. I just . . . it’s harder being a single mom than I imagined.”
“You must be doing a great job. She’s really taken ownership of her kart.”
Of course she has. It’s her connection to Darren. “Thanks for doing this. It’s a good thing.”
They walk a few paces. Then: “You deserve to be happy, too, you know.”
Amber stops and turns to him. What? Cody can read the question on her face.
“I mean . . . life’s not all about work, work, work.”
“Okay. I guess not.” Where is he going with this?
“I know you already said no—and I respect that and all—but . . . I don’t mean to be pushy—that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do. . . .”
That flutter surfaces for a second. Is he trying to . . . ?
“So I heard about this really great musician playing at Harry’s Coffee tomorrow night. Want to check it out?”
More flutters. He’s really not backing down. The idea doesn’t fill her with dread like it did at first. A night out might be a nice reprieve. Flutters again. “Yes. Sounds like fun.”
“Okay. Great.” Amber can almost hear the sigh of relief from him as his shoulders drop.
“Great.” Should she offer another response?
“Pick you up around six thirty?”
“Okay.” What do I do next? What’s the protocol? It’s been, like, ten years since anyone asked me out on a first date.
“All right.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Amber slips out of the garage, the last to leave except for Cody. She heads off down the block to her minivan, still parked at the elementary school. The flutter melts away, replaced by that growing pit that feels like her stomach is going to eat itself. Different from hunger pains. Apprehension. Her face tenses as she walks.
What makes her think she’s anywhere near ready to add one more element to her life? Or Bree’s?
The pit turns to gnawing.
She prays Rosie has a couple of leftover dumplings.
chapter twenty-nine
Pre-date Jitters
Cody
CODY SLAMS THE hood of a 1984 Buick LeSabre as he checks the clock hanging between the stall doors of Joe’s garage. Six o’clock on the nose. If I quit now, I’ll have just enough time to wash up, clean out the passenger side of my car—okay, maybe the whole car—and then try not to freak out. It’s a cup of coffee. It’s not like trying to hit the apex of a turn at eighty miles per hour and not spin out. I got this.
Cody clocks out and heads into the office, where Joe is working the books at his desk.
“Joe, I gotta head out on time today, okay?” Cody heads for the door in the corner that houses what passes for a bathroom at Joe’s Auto. He flips on the single-bulb light mounted above a mottled mirror and keeps the door open a crack to air out the musty odor.
“What’s the status on the LeSabre?” Joe calls from his desk.
“Was down two quarts of oil. Added that. Fixed the leak in the transmission line. And the brakes are worn. Need to replace ’em.”
“I’ll call the owner in the morning and give ’em a quote on new brakes.”
Cody grabs his duffel bag from under the cracked pedestal sink and takes out a few toiletries. He washes his hands and face under an anorexic flow of ice-cold water from the faucet. “You really need to get a new faucet, Joe. When was this thing installed? 1967?”
“Sixty-eight.”
“Guess they didn’t have hot water back then, either, did they?” He smiles at his own joke.
“What are you doing in there? Taking a bath?”
“Getting ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Date.” Not that it’s any of your business, old man. I’m entitled to a little bit of a private life during this jail sentence.
“Who’s this date with?”
The door flings open, startling Cody. He sees Joe’s distorted image glaring back at him in the warped mirror.
“Amber Hill.”
“What did I tell you about that girl?”
“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a bunch. It’s just coffee.”
“It better be.”
Cody slaps water on his face and rubs it off with a paper towel. He digs into his bag and comes up with a comb. Joe is still staring at him, concern furrowing his brow. “What? I can’t have a little fun? My personal life is not part of the Gibbs deal.”
Joe leans against the door frame. “No, I know. You are. But if I offer you a little advice, will you listen?”
“What do you got?”
“Cody, this is important.”
“Even more important than the apex?” Cody grins at Joe as he exchanges his dirty T-shirt for a dressier shirt crumpled in his bag.
“I’ve known Amber since she married Darren. They were really in love, and they made a great couple. Darren was a lot like you in spirit. Adventurous. High-strung. Ready to take on the world. And he did. And Amber never stood in his way. But it cost her and Bree greatly.”
Cody shakes out his shirt, trying to smooth the wrinkles. “I’m grateful for his sacrifice, and he sounds amazing—downright intimidating, actually. But she said yes to the date. So . . . I’m not exactly sure how this applies to me.”
“Amber’s had a big loss in her life. She may be lonely and looking for companionship. That’s only natural. But I don’t want you taking advantage of that. She’s not ready for a long-term relationship. There’s a heap of trouble still brewing in her.”
“You make it sound like I’m heading into a train wreck.” Cody buttons his shirt up halfway, frowning at his unkempt shirt in the mirror. “You think if I put on my leather jacket over this, it’ll hide the wrinkles?” He turns to Joe for approval and finds Joe shaking his head at him. “No good, huh? You don’t have an iron, by any chance?”
“Cody. I’m worried you’ll be a distraction.”
“I think she needs a distraction . . . from all that sadness. And maybe you need to stop feeling sorry for her.” Cody slips out of his work shoes and into a pair of cowboy boots.
“I want nothing but the best for Amber and Bree
.” So do I, old man. “But you’re not it right now.”
“Whoa . . . first of all, you don’t know that. And second, slow your horses. This is just a cup of coffee.”
“I know what coffee can lead to. I was young once.”
“When was that? When you installed this faucet?” Cody’s chuckle is quickly silenced by Joe’s stony look. “Joe, look, I haven’t had a date in over two years. It’s been all track time for me. I’d like to settle down someday. Find that one true love. I’ve got to start somewhere. And Amber seems . . .”
“Amber is everything she seems right now. Sweet. Vulnerable. Fragile. Don’t play around with her heart. Don’t lead her on. And don’t think you can fix her. Got it? Be a friend. That’s it. End of story.”
“Friends. Got it.” Cody uncaps his deodorant stick and rubs it under his arms.
Joe shakes his head. “You’re gonna need to do more than that to impress her. Come here.”
Cody follows Joe back to his desk. He removes something and throws it at Cody.
“Put this on.”
A small bottle of cologne lands in Cody’s grip.
Amber must really be something if Joe’s getting this defensive over her. I think it’s going to be a great night.
Amber
AMBER ANSWERS THE door in a complete panic. She’s still in her robe and slippers, with hot rollers tumbling from her hair and mascara smudged in dark circles under her eyes. Hannah’s shocked look tells her everything she needs to know. Disaster!
Bree, who is partially hidden behind her mother, sticks her head out and pleads with the paralyzed Hannah. “Can you get Bridgette? We need a little help here!”
Amber nods, a curler dropping out of her hair.
Hannah turns around and dashes down the steps. “Bridgette!”
Amber and Bree follow her out onto the front porch.
A car just pulling away from the house screeches to a halt. Backs up. Parks. The ignition turns off, and within a second Bridgette jumps out of the car and dashes up the walk. She takes one look at the bedraggled Amber and shrieks.
“Bad, huh?” Amber asks.
“Get inside! Get inside!” Bridgette ushers them all through the front door.
“He’ll be here in thirty minutes,” says Amber.
“Okay, deep breaths. We’re in triage mode, people. Hannah. Bree. I need a washcloth, Q-tips, hair spray, and a drier sheet. Go! Go!”
Hannah rushes upstairs, with Bree leading the way.
Bridgette sees the MyWay starter kit on the dining table. “What’s that?”
“A bribe.”
But Bridgette is already unloading its contents.
“This shade is perfect for you.”
“I’m not using that stuff,” says Amber.
“Upstairs, lady. Let’s go!”
Bridgette takes Amber by the shoulders and pushes her toward the stairs.
* * *
6:27 p.m.
AMBER SLIPS INTO her dress and jean jacket. She turns to Bridgette for a final look. Bridgette applies a touch of MyWay lip gloss to Amber’s lips. She steps back to let a transformed Amber take a look at herself in the full-length mirror. Hannah and Bree admire from the bed.
“You look great, Mom!”
“Thanks to Bridgette.” Amber makes a small bow in appreciation.
“And thanks to MyWay,” Bridgette teases.
“Don’t start.” Amber waves a finger.
“You look really beautiful, Mrs. Hill,” says Hannah.
Amber smiles. “Thanks, Hannah.”
Hannah hugs Amber and takes Bree’s hand. “Let’s go see if we can find a snack in the kitchen.”
They take off. Amber can’t take her eyes off the image she sees in the mirror.
“It’s showtime. He should be here any second,” says Bridgette.
“You do great work, Bridge.”
She hasn’t been this done up since Darren took her out for a fancy dinner before he left on his last tour. The afternoon before the date, Amber had used a gift certificate and splurged on a facial and makeup application at the spa downtown. The treatment made her feel and look radiant. And Darren couldn’t keep his eyes off her all night.
She’s sure she doesn’t like that glow tonight. But it is a miraculous transformation.
“You really pulled this off. Thank you.”
“That’s what I’m here for. You did the same for me. Sort of. Remember our winter formal?” Bridgette lets out a bellowing laugh.
“Junior year? Oh, do I.” Amber groans. Bridgette will never, ever let her live it down.
“Those highlights you gave me the night before. Oh my goodness. What a wreck.”
“I was going for honey tones.”
“More like headlight yellow streaked unevenly on the top of my head.”
“You pulled it off, though. And Regina Carpenter wanted to know who had done your hair so she could go in and get the same look.”
“She even took a picture of me to show her hairdresser!” Bridgette is almost in tears. “But my hair was the least of my worries. I was too embarrassed to tell Matt I was allergic to that daisy corsage.”
“And your eyes got all swollen!” Amber says.
“And my mascara was down to my neck after we iced them in the banquet-hall kitchen.”
“And then Matt, that rat, took off after the dance with that other girl. What was her name?”
“Betsie!” recalls Bridgette.
“Yeah! Big-lips Bets!”
“And then she dumped him the next week. They deserved each other.”
Amber feels a catharsis as the laughter sheds almost all anxiety from her body.
“It’s so good to do this with you again.” Amber hugs Bridgette.
“I’ve missed this,” says Bridgette.
“I’ve missed you.”
“You, too.”
Amber turns serious as the memories seep in. “Winter formal. That was the night I first met Darren.”
“It was, wasn’t it? But he didn’t go to our school.”
“No. That senior, Amy, was dating him and invited him to our dance. She got really mad at me when he asked me to dance.”
“Wow, there was a lot of boyfriend-girlfriend stealing going on that night,” jokes Bridgette.
Amber gets quiet, and her eyes begin to flood. She blinks back the tears. “Nope. Not gonna cry.”
“Better watch your mascara, there.” Bridgette wipes a small smudge from under Amber’s left eye.
“I don’t know if I should be doing this.”
“It’s just coffee.”
“No. It’s not that. It’s just—Somehow it feels . . . disloyal.”
“Amber. Look at me.”
Bridgette turns Amber’s face to hers.
“First, it’s been two years. Not that I’m putting a time limit on your grief. But . . . it’s okay to have a little fun. Got it?”
Amber nods. Bridgette’s not quite sure she believes her, though.
“And second, it’s just coffee. You know? Bitter black beverage with excessive jitter levels.”
“Coffee,” Amber says, with a distance in her voice. An image of Darren and her dancing plants itself in her memory, threatening to sour her mood and change her mind about the date.
The doorbell rings downstairs. And she snaps back to reality.
chapter thirty
Off-list Shopping
PATTI PUSHES A shopping cart through the grocery store aisle as she carefully selects only the items from the shelves that are on her weekly grocery list. A big believer in eating organic, natural foods, Patti won’t purchase anything that contains more than five ingredients. She shies away from canned, jarred, or boxed items, preferring to make her meals and snacks from scratch. Sure, it takes a little longer, but she enjoys the time in the kitchen. It relaxes her.
Patti wheels her cart, a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables, down the freezer aisle toward the checkout stand. Just as she’s almost at the end of the r
ow, the ice-cream display catches her attention. Patti’s kryptonite.
She stops.
She plants herself in front of the glass door, a passageway to the frozen delights.
And then Patti gets a brilliant idea.
chapter thirty-one
Overshadowed by the Shadowbox
MOM! CODY’S HERE!” Bree’s little voice shouts up the stairs.
“Okay, okay,” says Amber, halfway down the steps. She spies Bree at the bottom, smiling from ear to ear.
“I showed him to the living room. Was that okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, sweetie. And did you and Hannah find a snack?” Amber marvels at Bree’s hospitality. Good girl. Reaching the bottom of the steps, she can smell popcorn cooking in the kitchen.
We don’t have popcorn in the house. Ah, that Hannah. Of course, she brought a bag. Hannah thinks of everything.
“Bedtime at nine, okay? Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
“I won’t.” Amber gives Bree a quick kiss and sends her to the kitchen.
“Bye, Cody!” Bree calls to him.
“Bye, Bree!” Cody’s voice echoes back from the living room.
Amber enters and finds him in front of the fireplace staring at Darren’s medals in a shadowbox on the mantel. A Purple Heart. A Silver Star.
In his leather jacket, faded jeans, and side-tousled hair, Cody looks the complete opposite of Darren. For a second, Amber feels peculiar about this stranger occupying a living room that used to be hers and Darren’s.
“Hi.”
Cody spins around, startled by her stealthy entrance. “Hi. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Really good. You look really pretty.”
Flutters. Amber smiles and stands there for a second, unsure what to say next. It takes a moment before she realizes that he just complimented her. “Oh. Thank you. Sorry, it’s been so long since anyone said that to me. Bridgette is mostly to blame for all this.” She does a nervous quarter twirl and then stops halfway through. “I don’t know why I just did that,” she twitters. More flutters.
Cody grins. “It was cute.”
God Bless the Broken Road Page 12
