God Bless the Broken Road

by Jennifer Dornbush

  “A few. A few.” Nelson laughs.

  “What’s so funny?” Bree asks.

  “I was just thinking about something your dad did in the field with a fire extinguisher.”

  “What did he do?”

  Amber tenses. “Bree. Let Mr. Nelson eat his dinner in peace.”

  “I don’t mind. In fact, she’s welcome to sit with me. I could use the company.”

  Bree’s eyes plead with Amber. “That’s kind. But she needs to finish her math. Bree, take your seat. Now.”

  Rosie steams toward her with overflowing milk shakes in each hand. “There’re tables waiting, Amber.”

  Nelson nods respectfully. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Bree. See you in church.”

  “Yeah. See you.” Bree pouts back to her booth.

  “I’m sorry if Bree . . . She can be a lot to handle,” says Amber.

  “I really don’t mind. She seems sweet.”

  “Have you decided on what you’d like to eat?” Amber takes out her notepad.

  “Cheeseburger. No mustard. And your waffle fries, please. Extra crispy.”

  Amber jots it down.

  “Listen, I don’t mean to stalk you or pry into your business or anything. It’s just I’ve been looking for the right time to let you know a few things that . . . you know . . . might make a difference.”

  “I’m not . . . I can’t right now. Okay?”

  Nelson nods. “Maybe later. I’d be happy to come over sometime.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

  “Sure. I understand.”

  “Your order should be right up.” Amber beelines to the kitchen and hands in her slip to the cook. She downs a glass of water, taking a few minutes to collect herself until she hears Rosie’s piercing voice from the service station nearby.

  “Amber? Amber!” Amber ducks out. “Is she eating?” Rosie looks over at Bree.

  “Rosie, come on. I’m completely out of options.”

  “We’re starting to get a line up out the door. I need that table for paying customers.”

  “What am I supposed to do with her?”

  “Not my problem. But when I look over there next, I’d better see a four-top of diners.” Rosie saunters off with an armful of place settings.

  Amber glances around the café, trying to formulate a plan. There are only two places she can put Bree in the tiny restaurant. The kitchen or bathroom? Nope. She’s gonna have to sit in the minivan outside. And she’s not gonna like it. At that moment she sees Cody sitting down on a stool at the counter. He motions for Bree to join. She gathers her things and hops onto the stool next to him. Amber bustles over.

  “I heard you’re looking for paying customers,” Cody says with a broad smile that reassures her that everything is going to be all right. For the moment, anyhow.

  “I am.”

  “Great. Then, we’ll take two cheeseburgers, two fries, and two shakes.” He looks at Bree. “What flavor?”

  “Chocolate!”

  “Two chocolate shakes. With extra whipped cream.”

  “And three cherries, please.”

  “One cherry,” says Amber. “No whipped cream. You’ve had enough sugar for the day.”

  Cody shrugs at Bree. “Gotta listen to Mom.”

  Amber floods with relief, as Bree transforms into a well-mannered young lady with Cody at her side.

  “Glad you showed up when you did,” Amber says to Cody, feeling Rosie’s inquisitive stare from across the room. “Thank you.”

  “Thought I’d better check on you after that quick exit from the track.”

  “Oh yeah. That.” She looks at Bree. “It’s a long story. She can tell you all about it.”

  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” says Cody, settling in.

  “I got in a fight at school.” Bree is almost boastful about it. Clearly nothing Amber said to her in the car has sunk in.

  “What? Oh, wow. This sounds like a good one.”

  “I’ll get those orders going,” says Amber, heading back to the kitchen.

  “So, did you start it?” She hears Cody ask as she leaves.

  “No,” Bree says simply.

  “Okay. Well, did you win?”

  Cody gives her a high five. He better not be encouraging this. Maybe he can talk some sense into her.

  Amber heads to the kitchen as Bree starts her story. “See, this is what happened. David and I were on the swings, and this kid, Cole, comes outta nowhere and . . .”

  Their voices get lost in the background of diner noise, and Amber finds herself both charmed and charred about Cody’s carefree approach. She’s not sure which side of the fence she should land on. Or which is going to be better for Bree in the long run. Parenting has definitely become more complicated without Darren to bounce things off of.

  As she slips the ticket onto the order rack and spins it around to the kitchen side, she decides it’s not worth overthinking. Bree’s a good kid who’s been through a rough ride. She’ll keep an extra eye on her. Give her a little more attention. If she can.

  chapter thirty-nine

  Not a Charity Case

  WHAT. IS. THAT?” Amber exclaims in disbelief. An emerald-cut diamond of at least one full karat gleams up at her from Bridgette’s hand. Amber looks at her best friend. Shrieks! And throws her arms around Bridgette’s neck. “Get in here!” She yanks Bridgette through the front door. “You need to tell me everything! When? Where? How?”

  Amber draws Bridgette to the living room. “Last night. The old lighthouse restaurant on the pier. Dinner. Roses. Sunset. Romance. The perfect cliché.”

  “I love clichés. And I’m so happy for you.”

  They plop down on the couch. Amber hugs a pillow to her chest. “What about the wedding? Date set?”

  “Next fall. November probably. At church, of course.”

  “Colors?”

  “Burnt orange, gold, and mossy green. Very fallish.”

  “Beautiful. Your parents?”

  “Love him. On board a hundred percent.”

  “His parents?”

  “His mom could be my sister. We’re really close.”

  “You lucked out, girl.” Amber can’t imagine Patti being anything close to a sister.

  “And I want to ask you something. Will you stand up for me?”

  “What? Yes! Of course!”

  “Good. I was worried. I didn’t know if you’d be—”

  “Bridge, yes. I’ll be there for you.”

  “I’m so glad. Now, enough about this . . . How was your date?”

  “It feels like maybe it’s all going too fast,” says Amber.

  “That must have been some strong coffee,” Bridgette jokes.

  “Coffee and a spin around the racetrack the next day,” Amber reminds Bridgette with a smile.

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s nice. He has a good sense of humor. He’s good with Bree.”

  “But?”

  “He’s a little intense at times. And I think he definitely has a few issues of his own he’s working on while he’s here.”

  “A wise friend once told me to get my own life together before finding that special someone to share it with.” Bridgette winks at her friend.

  “Oh, Bridge. Please. I’m so far from wanting to get remarried.”

  “I know. I know. That’s what I’m saying. No pressure. One day at a time.”

  Amber nuzzles up to her friend. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Now, listen, I don’t mean to bring up bad stuff, but there’s a rumor going around that you’re close to losing your home. Is that true, Amber?”

  Amber can’t hide from it any longer. In fact, part of her is glad Bridgette said something.

  “Probably. But I’m still working on it,” she says with a touch of relief that her best friend knows.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s embarrassing, Bridge.”

  “What do you need?”
r />   “I’ve fallen really, really far behind.”

  “Okay. How much are we talking?”

  “A lot. I actually . . . I don’t know how I’m going to catch up,” Amber confesses in a wave of release.

  “Okay. Well, it’s not impossible. Karena and Pastor Williams can get the whole church behind you. We’ll take up a special offering next Sunday, and before you know it—”

  “Whoa. What? Oh, no. I’m not some charity case.”

  “We do it all the time when people are a little down and out. Everyone chips in.”

  “No. Don’t you dare.” Amber glances at Bridgette with a look that says she’s serious.

  “I don’t get you, Amber Hill. Everyone at church loves you. And even though you haven’t been there in a long time, they’re still your friends. And if they knew you were in this much trouble, they’d reach out in a second.”

  “They don’t owe me anything.” Amber’s stubborn pride flares up as Bridgette struggles to get through. “I got into this mess by myself, and I have to figure a way out of it.”

  Bridgette backs down and softens her approach. “The church can help in other ways, you know—once you’re connected to the only source that can give you what you really need.”

  “Jesus is going to give me a couple thousand dollars?” She doesn’t mean to sound snide.

  “Your debt is just a symptom. You wanna get your house in order? You gotta repair that relationship with God first.”

  Amber sighs. Not this again.

  “All I’m saying is, don’t stay too long on that island of yours. Pretty soon the life rafts will stop coming up to shore.”

  For all of Bridgette’s patience and encouragement, she is a die-hard realist, and, no lie, her advice stings sometimes. Amber brushes it off. Warning heeded. She diverts the conversation back to wedding plans.

  * * *

  AFTER BRIDGETTE LEAVES, Amber looks down at her phone to check the time. Bree will be done with school soon. She also discovers Jim Wellington has left a voice mail. She presses play and taps the speaker button.

  “Mrs. Hill, this is Jim. I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your loan was sold to a third party this morning. They are requiring full payment immediately. We’re beyond working out a payment plan. I’m sorry, but it’s really out of my court now. Amber, your house is going to be seized. It’s urgent that we speak. Please give me a call.”

  “No, no, no. Come on.”

  Amber stabs at the speakerphone button and fumbles the phone into her pocket, her engagement ring and wedding band catching as she twists her hand back out. A round-cut diamond no bigger than a quarter karat turns up at her.

  And she discovers her way out.

  chapter forty

  Loved and Flawless

  WHO DUMPED WHO?” says Wayne Kent, proprietor of Kent’s Pawn & Collectibles as he sits on his stool behind a glass counter eating an enormous, mayonnaise-oozing sandwich. Chunks of lettuce and turkey fall from his beard to his belly and land on the glass countertop. Amber is disgusted but doesn’t let it deter her from her mission.

  She looks down at the diamond ring she has reluctantly slid off her finger and pushes it toward Mr. Kent. The neon sign in the window illuminates the counter and casts a soft, underlit red glow, making her seem like the villainess in some seedy noir flick. The irony of the moment hits her, and she uses every bit of strength in her soul to fight back the tears.

  “Well, the way I see it,” Mr. Kent continues, “the guy who gave this to you cared enough about you to pick the best diamond that he could afford. He didn’t get you a lower-quality but larger stone just to impress you. You were truly loved when he gave this to you.”

  “Yes, I was. So what is it worth?”

  Mr. Kent grabs his jeweler’s loupe and lifts it to his eye to examine the stone.

  “It’s only about a quarter of a carat, but flawless.”

  “What does that mean in dollars?” Amber just wants the deal to be over.

  “I’d say about four-fifty, five hundred.”

  “That’s it? I need more,” she blurts out. Five hundred would barely scratch what she owes on her mortgage . . . or that new lender . . . or Perfect Payday. But she’s here. She’s made her decision. And she doesn’t know what else to do. Five hundred had to mean something to one of her creditors. If anything, maybe it could buy her time. Buy. Time. Her days since Darren left have been minimized to this vicious cycle of using time to buy time. It didn’t make sense. What a terrible way to live. And it was failing her. Surely, this isn’t what God—or Darren—had in mind for her life.

  “That’s the best I can do.” He chomps down on his sandwich and a slice of tomato squirts out, dripping down his hand and into his shirtsleeve. “So what’ll it be?”

  “I have to.” Amber’s voice squeaks as a lump in her throat forms.

  Mr. Kent nods. “He ain’t going to come in here looking for this ring, is he? I don’t get involved in messy breakups.”

  Amber lifts her gaze to his bloodshot, saggy-lidded eyes. “He was killed in Afghanistan, and I need the money to keep a roof over his daughter’s head. So I don’t think there’s much chance of him coming in looking for the ring.”

  “Okay, then.” Wayne grabs a form from behind the counter and slides it across to Amber. “Sign this. If you don’t come back for it in two weeks, it’s ours to sell.”

  She looks down at her left hand, where her ring used to be. It’s his to sell. She won’t be back. That’s for sure. She squints back the tears as she quickly scribbles her signature on the paper and heads for the door.

  “Miss?”

  Amber doesn’t turn around. She can’t face him. She just wants out of this hole.

  “Miss? Hey, wait. Your want your money, don’t ya?” Mr. Kent trails her to the door. How could she be so careless? He hands her a thin envelope. She quickly checks inside. Her marriage reduced to a few grubby hundreds.

  As the lump fills her throat, she notices that he’s slipped her an extra hundred.

  Without a glance, Amber steals out the door, fleeing the barred windows and neon sign.

  chapter forty-one

  The Rebound Guy

  PATTI IS THE first one present for Sunday brunch. She sucks down a cup of coffee before Bethany and Joanne arrive. Twenty minutes later, Gayle, Karen, and Kim make late entrances. There was a line at the valet. They all sense right away that something’s eating at her. But Patti doesn’t let on as she makes pleasantries over a second cup of coffee. How are the kids? The grandkids? Did this one perform well at his piano recital? Did that one recover from the flu? Are you going to Cabo this year?

  Finally, Joanne turns to Patti. “You look like you’re about ready to burst. What’s going on?”

  Patti releases. “Cody Jackson. That’s what. He’s going after Amber.”

  The women absorb the news with blank stares and polite sips of coffee. Patti waits for their responses. “Oh, come on. Tell me what you’ve heard about him,” she insists.

  “I’ve never met the guy. What I know I’ve heard from you,” starts Kim diplomatically.

  “Which is . . . ?” prods Karen, with a look to Kim.

  “That . . . he’s coming in a bit hot,” says Kim. “And he’s a bit of a showboater.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Amber’s type,” adds Joanne.

  “He’s no Darren,” Patti says defensively.

  “Well, just how much time have they spent together?” asks Karen, trying to get all the facts.

  “I know they’ve been out on at least a couple of dates.” Patti isn’t exactly sure about this fact, but she can only suspect the worst, since Amber is hiding the relationship from her.

  “I met him once at Joe’s when I dropped off my Mercedes,” says Gayle, a trial lawyer. “He was very charming. A head turner.”

  “You little cougar,” teases Joanne. Which doesn’t please Patti.

  “Hey, a single lady can enjoy the local scenery once in a while,” returns Gayle,
and the women all laugh. “Let the evidence show that Mr. Jackson was polite and friendly. I rest my case.”

  “Well, I won’t argue with the attorney,” starts Bethany. “But I will add that I’ve gotten to know him a bit at church—Joe has him going to Clarksville Community—and while his heart seems to be in the right place, he does seem a bit restless. I think he’s basically a flash in the pan. And Amber would be wise not to get in too deep.”

  “If he’s training with Joe, then we all know what that means,” says Kim, who speaks from experience. “As soon as he gets back on that race circuit, he’s outta here. And where does that leave Amber? Heartbreak City.”

  Patti nods. Exactly what she thinks.

  “Patti, you can’t expect Amber to become a nun,” Karen adds gently.

  “No, of course not. I don’t expect that at all,” says Patti. “I knew she would move on eventually. I just don’t think now’s the right time. The girl has some real problems to deal with, and adding a man into the mix, especially a hothead like Cody, will not benefit her situation one iota. Or Bree’s.”

  “Have you talked to her about it?” asks Karen, always the peacemaker.

  “It’s like talking to a brick wall,” answers Patti. “She isn’t interested in a thing I try to do to help her.”

  “How serious do you think she is about Cody?” says Bethany.

  Just then the waiter appears with their meals. Patti pauses until he’s left the table. “I know this about Cody. He’s got Bree in his favor. They’re building a go-kart together at Joe’s. From what I see, she adores him.” As she says it, Patti realizes how much the thought of this really riles her up.

  “Sounds like maybe it’s Bree you’re most concerned about,” suggests Kim, who has a way of cutting to the heart of matters.

  Patti punctures her omelet with her fork, and the table goes silent for a moment while the ladies enjoy their first bites. Patti takes a sip of grapefruit juice to swallow down the wedge of irritation gripping her throat. “I don’t want Bree getting attached to some guy who’s only going to dump Amber the moment NASCAR calls him up. I don’t think she deserves that kind of loss again. And I don’t think Cody sees that at all.”