“Oh, I don’t think you two have met. Mandy, this is my friend Amber. Amber, this is Mandy. My neighbor.” I shot Amber a desperate, pleading look. Please don’t pick a fight with Mandy. I’m begging you. I would’ve gotten down on my knees at that point, but it would’ve been a little obvious.
She didn’t even look at me. The look on her face said fuck you all. “Hey,” she said to Mandy. The word had a sharp, raggedy edge. “Who the hell is Chuck?”
Shit. Please, no. Not in my house! Mandy waved a hand and answered the blade-edged question Amber had thrown at her calmly enough. But if Amber pressed the issue, I knew explosives would detonate. And Amber wasn’t the type to back down. I watched Amber’s face tighten and color unnaturally. I saw her open her mouth.
“Aren’t you a little old to be in an open relationship?”
I braced for impact.
“Aren’t you too pretty to be such an angry little bitch?”
I decided to leave before they started screaming, throwing things, or worse.
My legs carried me to the barn, past Soiree and her loving nickers, to Elle’s stall. She walked up to me and let me scratch underneath her wispy forelock. Her mane was growing in, sticking up in places, rubbed sparse in others. Shavings clung to the silvery hairs. “I should find the clippers,” I muttered. Elle gently nudged my arm. “What’s with you today?” I asked her. Then I saw her empty manger. Smiling to myself, I went to get her some more hay.
As I dumped several flakes into Elle’s manger, Soiree nickered frantically. I sighed, and went to her stall. She thrust her head at me. I dutifully held it for her. She closed her eyes happily and fell asleep. Her head seemed to weigh a hundred pounds, but she trusted me to hold it up for her. So I stood there like an idiot, trying to ignore the cramping in my muscles.
I heard footsteps. They didn’t fall hard and fast like Amber’s. I turned my head and saw Mandy’s outline. “So. What’s left of my house?” I asked.
She grinned. “Your house is fine, Cavanaugh. Your little girlfriend sure shut up fast, though.”
“Oh, it won’t last. I’m sure she’ll give me hell later. And she’s not my girlfriend,” I added. The words came out kind of bitter.
Mandy’s brows arched. “Oh, really? Then why are you two playing house?”
I looked away. “She lost her job. She can’t pay rent. I’m helping her out for a little while.” I didn’t want to talk about Amber with Mandy. I wanted to shamelessly flirt with Mandy and lose myself in her ample curves.
Mandy seemed to sense that a part of me had closed off. She let the subject go. Her eyes shifted to Soiree’s comatose head in my hands. “Is that horse dead?”
I shook my head. “Not dead. Just needy.”
Mandy snorted. “Well, if you can tear yourself away from your needy horse and your non-girlfriend, maybe I’ll see you tonight.”
I nodded once. “Yeah.”
She turned and swaggered out. I watched her go. Then I heard Amber’s truck start up. She burned rubber and chewed through gravel as she left. The jet engine-like roar of the Harley woke Soiree up. I hastily stepped away from her while I had the chance. She looked forlorn, so I went to get her some more hay.
I waited around for Amber for a while. Then I got sick of waiting around. What am I waiting for? She would come back; she would be surly or caustic; she would eventually get over herself and settle into just being snarky, and everything would work out fine. It wasn’t going to work out the way I wanted it to. I knew it wasn’t. I strode down the driveway without thinking. I was mad at myself for caring. Mad at Amber for not caring. I was doing everything I possibly could for her, and getting absolutely nothing. Why do I even bother? It was all so stupid. Especially the fact that I felt guilty for walking away, for going to see someone who actually liked me. Someone who could fill the void Amber had carved out of me.
I recognized the unbearable sound of the Harley. I waved stiffly at Amber when the truck came into view. She sat, rigid, unmovable. I kept walking.
As I neared Mandy’s drive, I noted that Chuck’s gnarly Jeep Cherokee was gone. Good. Open relationship or not, I had, let’s say, reservations about screwing Mandy with her disgruntled fiancé on the other side of the wall. Not that he was huge or homicidal or anything. It just felt dirty, and not in a good way. Especially since Chuck was clearly not down with the whole “seeing other people” thing. Mandy insisted he was fine with it, but one look at the guy when we were awkwardly introduced told me otherwise. Unfortunately, Chuck’s options pretty much sucked. Either he could have Mandy and share her, or he could not have Mandy at all. Mandy refused to be tied down. At least figuratively speaking.
I let myself in the farmhouse, and blinked, like always, at the eye-wateringly bright walls and what Mandy called “eclectic decor”. Personally, I called it “a bunch of random shit”, but whatever. I wasn’t here for the interior design. As my eyes adjusted, I looked around for Mandy. I sensed her before I heard her. She could be really light on her feet when she wanted to be. I stood stock still, letting her slip her bra over my eyes and lead me to an undisclosed location.
When she let me see again, I saw we were in a room I’d never seen before. I figured it must be Chuck’s work room, or something. It was pretty much bare, except for a table, chair and a dartboard. The walls were dark. How depressing, I thought. Then I realized he probably came in here to give his eyes a break from the onslaught of color. Genius. Mandy’s hands went to work on my clothes. She was already naked. I stopped thinking about much of anything. Especially when she bent over the table.
Vaguely, I heard a car drive up, a door slam and another open. But it didn’t register. At least until Mandy’s fiancée walked by the open door. His footsteps ceased. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want the look I knew was on his face burned into my brain forever.
Mandy’s head swiveled. “You said you were leaving town!” She barked accusingly.
“I was,” I heard Chuck say. “I forgot something.” He sounded disgruntled and wounded.
“Well, go get it then.” Mandy shook her head at him. “Go on!” She said more forcefully.
I heard him shuffle off. Then his car started. Vaguely, I wondered if he’d gotten whatever the hell it was he came for. Mandy burst out laughing, but I didn’t join in. I did congratulate myself on staying hard, because, frankly, that had taken considerable talent.
Mandy glanced back at me, shooting me a fuck me now stare. Sorry, Chuck, I thought reflexively as I leaned into his fiancée.
Later, I leaned unsteadily against the wall. Mandy had gone off somewhere and was talking loudly to someone on the phone. I caught the word “awesome” several times, so I dearly hoped she was talking about me. I dearly hoped she wasn’t talking to Chuck, but it was Mandy, so you never know. Eventually I got my clothes back on and wandered out of the room. I followed her voice and found her sprawled on the couch. A smile spread over her face. “I’ve gotta go, Tina,” she said into her phone. She paused, then burst out laughing. “Yes…well, I’ll tell you about it later. Bye now!” She flipped her phone shut and looked at me expectantly.
In the new silence, I could hear a dull thumping coming from somewhere. “Do you have a vibrator on?” I asked Mandy.
She snorted. “No, I only have to fire that thing up after Chuck and I do it.”
I winced on his behalf. “There’s just this noise…”
“Oh, that.” Mandy nodded in the direction of my house. “That would be your girlfriend blasting “Poker Face”.
“Oh.” A bad feeling was seeping into my veins. “I guess I’d better go home and deal with that. And she’s not my girlfriend,” I added on.
“Sure.” Mandy hacked out a cough that sounded less like an actual cough and more like the word “whipped”.
I pretended like I hadn’t heard. “See you later,” I said. I headed for the door.
“Good luck!” Mandy shouted at my back.
The decibels increased as I staggered hom
e. I should not have walked here. That was bad, bad planning. Also, I should not have come here at all. I should have waited up for Amber like the poor, whipped schmuck I am.
I could already feel a headache coming on as I walked up my driveway. I stalled for time by checking on the horses. Harry was staring at the house and quaking, even though Vegas couldn’t have cared less. Elle had been bored out of her mind for so long that she seemed to actually like the music, and there was no noise too grating for Soiree. I sighed deeply. I could prolong it no longer. I walked into the house.
Amber was head-banging and eating something green in a really aggressive way. “I’m back!” I yelled over the music.
Amber’s eyes flickered up. “Fabulous. What do you want? Fucking applause?”
Much as I loved her, there were times when I just felt like hitting her. Like right now, for instance. I walked over to the pulsating stereo and hit the stop button instead. Ahhhhh, silence.
“You did not just turn off my music. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I can’t listen to that over-processed crap, Amber. It gives me a migraine. Sorry,” I added as an afterthought.
“What are you even doing here? Why can’t you just stay with Mandy?” She said that with considerable malice, even for Amber.
“It’s my house,” I said, sounding inadvertently whiny. “And I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I was fine ‘til you showed up,” she snapped.
I breathed deeply. Well, I tried to. It wasn’t working all that well. “I don’t know why you’re being like this. I’m trying, Amber. I’m really trying. But God, Amber, you’re making it so hard…”
Amber’s eyes burned through me. “So it’s all my fault? Of course it is. All my life, I get to hear the same old shit. ‘Amber doesn’t play nicely with others.’ ‘What’s your problem, Amber?’ Why are you such a bitch?’“
Tears shimmered in her eyes, but her anger overruled her sadness, like it almost always did.
“It’s the same with you. You pretend to be my friend, but you just want to get in my pants. If I would just put out, everything would be fine, wouldn’t it? Fine for you.”
She stood up, kicking aside her chair. ”I should have known this wouldn’t work.”
For a minute, I couldn’t speak. “Amber. Wait!” I called as she rocketed out of the house. I ran after her.
She would have been long gone, but I found her searching her various pockets for her keys. Thank God for cargo pants. I reached for her arm. She ripped it away, but at least I had her attention. “I don’t expect you to put out,” I said. “That’s not why I’m letting you into my home. My motives are good and pure. I swear to God, Amber.” I looked away. “I’m not saying I didn’t think about it. I did. I did have some insane, irrational hope that things might happen between us. It’s hard for me to accept that I can’t give you what you need.” I swallowed hard. “That’s my problem, though. It’s not yours. I’ll do my best not to make you uncomfortable, and I’ll try to give you some slack when we inevitably clash. And if you could do the same for me, we can make this work. That’s all I’m asking. Okay?”
Amber nodded. “Okay.” She was as pliable as I’d ever seen her. I walked back into the house with Amber, feeling deeply, emotionally tired and strangely exhilarated.
Lawrence again
For about the first three days, Amber slept almost continuously. At first I moved around her cautiously, treading lightly and keeping noise to the barest possible minimum. After twelve or so hours of this, though, I started behaving normally again out of sheer necessity. A person can only take so much of sneaking around his own house. The increase in noise failed to disturb Amber; she slept like a dead person. The temptation was there, but I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to gaze at the lovely contours of her face (or – who am I really kidding? – ogle her sleeping body). Whether it was out of respect for the promise I’d made her, or sheer terror that she might suddenly wake up and catch me doing it, was a call too close to make.
Finally, late one afternoon, Amber padded into the kitchen where I sat inhaling Cheetos, her sudden presence nearly giving me a heart attack.
“I’m hungry,” she announced.
I shook the bag of bright orange goodness enticingly, I thought. She wrinkled her nose in a way that reminded me of an adorable bunny rabbit, but also a snarling tiger. “I told you I’m not eating that shit.” Her words didn’t have their usual serrated edge. She looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen her.
“Did you have a nice nap?” I asked ironically.
She smiled, reached toward the ceiling and stretched, arching her back. I averted my eyes, but not quickly enough.
“I have been running all-out for years, trying to keep a shitty apartment roof over my head and food in the minifridge. I never felt like I could stop, even just to breathe. It was always ‘Will I still have a job tomorrow?’ ‘Will I be able to pay rent on time, and not a minute late? Because if I can’t, that asshole will evict me and I won’t have my shitty apartment.’ My whole fucking life was about making sure I had a shit job so I could have a shitty apartment. And it sucked! And now….” Amber glowed with pleasure. “Now I don’t have my shit job or my shitty apartment. I have a life. I have freedom. I can do whatever I want!”
I gaped at Amber. I had never seen anyone appreciate homelessness so much. Then again, I’d never been to her apartment. “That’s…great,” I said stupidly. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Amber glided over to the fridge and took out a green something-or-other. “God, how much crap do you have in here?” She slid something aside, then froze in place. “Oh. My. God.”
“What?” I said in alarm, visions of what could possibly be wrong creeping, unwanted, into my mind. Well, all I really saw was mold in different colors. What else could go wrong with refrigerated food?
Amber turned to stare accusingly at me. “You didn’t tell me you had, like, a shitload of pie in here.”
“Oh. Right. This nice old lady down the road keeps bringing me pie. I can’t stand pie, but I can’t tell her that. I don’t know what else to do with them, so…” I gestured to the fridge.
Amber grasped the uppermost pie, embraced it lovingly, and walked it to the table. She tore away the plastic wrap, picked up one of the pre-cut pieces and brought it to her mouth. “OhmyGod. This is amazing. This is, like, the best pie ever. How could you not like this?!”
I shrugged defensively. “I don’t know. I just never have. And I never will,” I threw in defiantly.
“Well, you’re an idiot.”
I watched as she ate half the pie without stopping for breath. I had discovered Amber’s weakness. Wow. Who knew?
Afterward, Amber lay sprawled on the couch in an obvious pie coma. It was alarming to see her like this. I was well used to the old Amber. Her hard edge, her gritty, determined energy that never ran out. Now she almost had a soft, cushiony quality, a strange vulnerability and joy to her. It was like someone had let the air out of her. She was reduced, in a good way, I guessed, but still, it was a shock to my system.
I got up out of my chair. “I’m going to the barn,” I said to the air.
Amber rolled off the couch and stood. Slowly. “I’ll come with you. I want to see Soiree.”
“Well, she’ll be glad to see you.”
Amber brightened visibly when she saw the gold filly’s face. As she let herself into the stall and wrapped her arms around Soiree’s neck, I was glad to see Amber’s heart and soul were very much intact.
I slipped a halter over Eloise’s head, clipped a lead to it and slid open her door. She followed me out to the yard and we made the usual circuit. She inspected everything with her eyes. As we passed by the old grey mare’s paddock, she walked up to the fence, grass falling out of her mouth as she chewed. Elle pinned her ears. The mare returned her nasty look and bared her gums. I smiled. Her ribs had faded to an outline, her hair was growing in shiny and white as moisture-fi
lled snow, and her personality was no longer suppressed by starvation and fatigue. She was worthless, a drain of time and money I sure as hell didn’t need, but she was thriving now, instead of dead, and it made me happy. So what the hell.
We stopped in Elle’s favorite grazing spot and I stood with one hand closed on the lead rope and an arm over Elle’s back, listening to the ripping and chewing. Amber came out of the barn and spotted us. She ambled over. “She looks great,” Amber said, her eyes lingering on Eloise and skipping over her bad leg.
“Yeah. She has a checkup soon. Hopefully everything’s going like it should.” She appeared to be healing. She wasn’t lame; she glowed with health and showed quiet determination to live. But I had no way of knowing what was going on inside the bone.
Amber glanced toward the geldings’ paddock. “How’s Vegas? How’s Harry?” She asked with a gleam in her eye.
I glared at her. “Vegas is an incredible asset.” Lately, I had been stick and balling on him in the nearby field. I didn’t have a flat, groomed, regulation-sized polo field, but I did have an exemplary partner in Vegas. “And Harry is an incredible ass. Thanks for asking.”
Amber snorted with laughter. “Still needs a few miles, does he?”
“Yeah. That or a lobotomy.” I paused, remembered something. “Erica might be by later to work Harry. Or sometime in here, anyway. She hasn’t been by in like a week.”
Amber gave me a pointed, beady-eyed look. “What is the deal with her, anyway?”
“Didn’t I tell you already? She’s Lou’s sister. I was talking to him on the phone one night, bitching about Harry, and he said she might help me out. She wanted a training challenge, I guess.” I laughed humorlessly. “Anyway, she came out to work him, it went really well, and she decided to see it through to the bitter end.”
Amber’s eyebrows descended to the vicinity of her eyelashes. “You’re a fucking moron.”
Training Harry Page 15
