She slipped a strong arm around my shoulders and guided me via the back of the house to the car, then ran back inside to tell Darren the plan and to borrow his keys. The drive home was silent while Amber kept her questions and opinions to herself. I was already wrestling with them all on my own.
Grandma picked me up early the next morning, just as she had promised. Amber and I fought back tears as we gave each other a quick hug, and promised to call each other as often as possible.
My mood was somber as Grandma and I ran errands in town. When we returned home, Sabrina was waiting on the front stairs, just as she had so often done in the past.
She had a wide grin spread across her face as she leapt down from the steps, knocking on my passenger window before I could get out of the car.
“Guess what?” she asked with her hands clasped together. She looked eager to share news and was bouncing around on her toes, completely oblivious to my oppressive sadness, while I exited the car.
“Remember yesterday while we were on the phone and you mentioned how cool it would be if I could go to Washington with you?”
I remembered: I had called Sabrina as soon as I got home but she had been heading out the door in a rush to get to work, and promised that she would call me back later.
True to her word, she called around four o’clock during her thirty-minute lunch-break. It was then that I filled her in on current developments, joking around about how cool it would be if I could smuggle her to Washington with me and keep her like a pet. But lunch break was over and she had to get off the phone so that was the end of the conversation.
Sabrina didn’t wait for a response, “Well I thought about it and was like ‘what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do,’ so I called mom and she said that I was more than welcome to come back with you for a few weeks and then who knows maybe if I liked it I would just stay. So I quit my crappy job, which I am totally stoked about because I am sick of smelling like a fried burrito. I am going to go pack up my stuff and come back to your house in about an hour or so. Then we’re outta here.”
Just listening to Sabrina could take your breath away, “Whoa, slow down. You talked to my mom?” For a moment I forgot about my own despondence as Sabrina’s contagious enthusiasm rubbed off.
“Yeah, she and your aunt both said it was cool.”
I took in the information then let out a shriek and grabbed Sabrina by the shoulders. We danced around the front yard like a pair of fools. “Oh my, god! This is so cool!” I paused in the middle of spinning around. “Hey, won’t your mom be mad?”
Sabrina gave me an incredulous look. “What! Are you crazy? Ever since I graduated she has been wondering when the heck I was going to move out. She knows that I have been saving up and counting down to the days when I would finally do it. When I told her, she just shrugged and told me to make sure that I called her every Sunday.” We resumed our silly dancing, gregarious, young, the world opening up before us. I stopped again, my face serious, “I guess that we’re finally getting out of this pathetic town, huh?”
Sabrina gave a cunning smile. “You bet your sweet ass!”
Chapter 16
Nearly three years had passed since I moved out of that dusty little town. Those three years felt like a lifetime. I was driving an old white Jetta, going south on Interstate-5 heading straight back, with Pearl Jam vibrating out of the static-filled radio station.
Amber and I had kept our promise, making a valiant effort to keep in touch even though there were times when life got the better of us. Eventually one would discover that months had gone by without contact and would call the other.
I took advantage of having a fresh start and made many new friends. I enjoyed my senior year with Rosie and Sabrina by my side.
Sabrina kept busy most of the time, working in the deli down the road, and hanging out with her boyfriend in her spare time. Within the first few months after moving to Washington, she met one of my new classmates and they were practically inseparable from day one. It was the first time I had seen Sabrina so smitten with a guy and it was awesome to watch their love develop.
After that first year, they married and he joined the military. They relocated to Germany as soon as he finished his basic training. Rosie and I were crushed to see our friend move so far away, but were supportive and happy to know Sabrina had fallen in love with someone we were confident would take good care of her.
During spring break that first year, Amber managed to make it up for a visit. I enjoyed introducing her to my new life. Rosie and I made it our mission to keep her busy, taking her to a few local parties, making the best of our short time together. Amber seemed a bit reserved toward me and I knew it was left-over resentment about the way I moved away. I couldn’t really blame her but couldn’t and wouldn’t have changed it. We still managed to connect as we always had, laughing and staying up all hours of the night.
Unfortunately the week passed too quickly and Amber had to head back home. She said that she was sad to go, but was glad she’d had the opportunity to see how happy I was with the move.
I gave her a hug before she slid into the car and fought the desperate urge to ask about Gabriel. I kept quiet, bit down on curiosity, and let her go. I figured that I had given up any right to care how he handled his affairs. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I still missed him. It had been my choice to push him away and I needed to live with that decision without looking back. But I did look back. Every day.
Since that visit, another two years had passed with only a few phone calls to close the distance. Amber was living alone in her mom’s old place and in the light of some recent events had invited me to stay with her for the first few weeks of summer.
I glanced in my rear-view mirror at the round-faced cherub, sleeping in her car seat, with light brown curly locks springing out from her head. My heart squeezed with love as I gazed upon my precious one-year-old child.
So much had happened since the last time I had seen Amber. At the end of my senior year I started dating a guy on the basketball team named Graham Hutton. He was quiet and shy and I was taken by how much he lathered me with attention, seeming to adore me.
He was fun, he was devoted, and I sank into the ease of the relationship, rather than following my typical pattern of fleeing from commitment. It didn’t occur to me until later, until it was too late, that I had married him for all the wrong reasons.
It wasn’t that I didn’t care about him, I did. What I hadn’t been aware of at the time was that I had been unconsciously trying to prove to myself that I could have a productive, committed relationship and break the patterns that I had grown up with.
I was desperate to create the life that I had always imagined as a young girl. Unfortunately, I tried to prove that point by marrying someone who felt safe, rather than someone who made me feel the fire and desperate longing that I had felt in the past. It wasn’t until later, that I would realize how important having that fire was.
We married four days after the Christmas following graduation, and had a tiny baby girl eight months later. Most people would question the motive of marrying so young once they did the math on baby Marissa’s birth date, but it was just the way things had worked out.
Looking back, I could see why I had jumped into marriage so quickly. I’d always wanted to have a family of my own and be a devoted mother. Once Marissa was born all my mothering instincts came on full force, blinding me with their fierce need to provide and protect. I instantly fell in love with my daughter. This is what I was born to do, I thought many times as I swaddled and comforted her in the wee hours of the morning.
Unfortunately, the marriage wasn’t going nearly as well. It only took about six months before the fighting became too much for the both of us and we started throwing around the word divorce.
The main issue was that I was desperately trying to get us to some modicum of financial stability, determined to provide a solid home environment for our child. Graham was sweet, but refused to g
row up, so we weren’t making much progress and were barely getting by at times.
It took weeks of me hounding him before he finally decided to look for work. I was hopeful when he landed a job, but quickly became frustrated when he made a habit of calling in, skipping out on work at any opportunity he could.
After a few months of that frustrating routine, I started acting out my frustrations. I went out drinking with my girlfriends while I left Marissa with Graham. I reasoned that there was no harm being done: I was with my daughter all day and then her father was with her in the evenings, so she was properly taken care of.
It wasn’t until I found myself in a precarious predicament where I was dependent on others to give me a ride home and wound up stumbling up my front stairs, still half drunk at nine o’clock the next morning that I was forced to admit I was not handling my problems the right way.
That afternoon, Graham and I had an argument that ended with an ultimatum. Either he shape up or ship out. I was done playing house. This was real and we both needed to be more responsible. I was adamant about providing Marissa with a better, more solid childhood than I had had. When I realized that I was slowly heading down that same road of bad choices and messy consequences, my determination to change the situation solidified. I knew that fighting in front of our baby was just one of the many ways I was repeating my own past and perpetuating familiar mistakes.
The first step was admitting that I didn’t really love my husband the way a wife should. I cared for him a great deal, as he was the father of our child, but we had slowly developed a pattern of interacting that was disturbingly similar to a parent-child relationship. I was constantly nagging him to do simple chores and responsibilities that I felt I shouldn’t have to press him to do.
I began to resent the fact that I had become the stereotypical nagging housewife and started to slowly close off to him. It was impossible to fight off the underlying feeling that if I could just love him the way I still loved Gabriel, I would be willing to work things out. But the fact was that I had never stopped loving him long enough to allow love for Graham.
Over the next few months the fighting died down to a low grumble but the space that separated the two of us became too vast of a canyon to reach across. In the matter of just a year and a half we had come to the point of no return in the relationship and I was ashamed at my failure. Ironic as it was, I had jumped head first into the exact pattern that I had been so hell bent on avoiding.
Nevertheless, I filled out divorce papers and it was just a matter of waiting out the ninety day period until the court date, when everything would be finalized.
Amber called one evening not long after I filed and invited me to spend a few weeks with her while I waited for the divorce hearing.
There I was, speeding down the highway with a warm summer breeze blowing through my hair, thinking that I should be home looking for work instead of driving to Oregon. I pushed those doubts aside, remembering to focus on my newfound freedom and looked forward to spending quieter moments with one of my best friends.
I would enjoy being carefree for a few weeks before I had to buckle down and make a new life for myself and my daughter. I had a hard road ahead when I got back. Being a single mother wasn’t going to be easy.
Rosie and I had agreed to find an apartment together at the end of summer, and I would need to get cracking on the job hunting as soon as I returned from Oregon.
Sighing, I once again pushed my troubling thoughts to the back of my mind making a silent promise to focus on only today. Tomorrow, I would do the same.
The first few days at Amber’s house were just what the doctor had ordered. I hadn’t realized how much I needed simple rest and relaxation. Amber and I lost precious sleep as we stayed up late catching up on the past few years and gossiping about how a few of our old classmates had turned out.
Amber still had horses to take care of and worked for a large stable down the road. She would say goodnight around midnight in order to get up at what she called “the butt crack of dawn.”
Marissa usually slept through the night in the playpen I’d set up next to the guest bed where I slept. She would play quietly with her new baby doll each morning, babbling and drooling as she teethed on her blanket and dollie. Waking up around eight or nine, I was shocked that I had slept in so long. I hadn’t slept like that since before I was pregnant.
I enjoyed the simple morning routine as I prepared for the day. After breakfast I took Marissa outside and walked her down to the lower field so that we could see the horses. Her delight filled the air as she squealed and clapped her chubby little hands, so thrilled with the big creatures.
Then we would walk back up to the house, and lounge around in the front yard with the dogs while Marissa talked to them in her own little baby language, as if they were her long lost friends. As soon as lunchtime was over, I put Marissa down for a nap then retreated to the front porch where I would sit peacefully, enjoying the sing-song of the birds, and the vision of the rolling countryside spread out before me.
The first few days of the laid back routine were much needed but I was normally such a busy-body that by the fourth day I started to get twitchy. Typically, I was the type that never sat down, always cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, running errands, whatever it took to keep from being idle. It seemed that I was trying so hard not to be like my mom that I worked all day until I would fall in to bed at night.
The sudden change of pace was glorious at first but soon I was scrubbing Amber’s kitchen and sweeping the front porch in order to satisfy my persistent need to feel productive.
Amber worked a particularly long shift that day and it was nearing dinner time when she stepped into the kitchen.
She leaned against the doorway. “Hey, Miss Suzie Homemaker, we need to get you out of the house.”
I glanced over my shoulder with a wry smile. “Aren’t you supposed to say ‘Honey I’m home’” I teased.
Amber sat on the floor and started banging on the pots and pans with Marissa. “I’d sing too kid, but unfortunately I don’t sing much better than your momma.”
“Hey, I’m right here you know. Besides I sing to her all the time and she likes it!” I defended. “In a couple of years she will soon realize that her mom couldn’t hit a note to save her life, but for now she thinks that I rock! So buzz off!”
Amber chuckled; we had always teased each other about our lousy singing voices. Neither one of us could carry a tune, but it never once had stopped us from belting out our favorite songs while driving down the road or anywhere that good music was playing.
“Well I was actually serious when I said we needed to get you out of the house. I have the next three days off so we should do something fun.” She leaned back against the refrigerator as she spoke.
I rose up on my tip toes, reaching into the cupboards for the ceramic bowls. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”
Amber shrugged. “Well it’s supposed to get pretty hot tomorrow; we could go up to the lake with a cooler of snacks and have a picnic, then go for a dip.” She turned back to Marissa, speaking in a high-pitched, baby talk voice. “Do you want to go swimming with Auntie Amber, Marissa?”
Marissa just smiled and banged on the pot saying “goggy, goggy.”
Amber looked up at Roshell and said, “See, she’s ecstatic. She can’t wait to go.”
I ladled up the stew into the bowls and laughed. “Or, she is thrilled that she can say doggy now and has been saying it all day.”
Amber sent me a cynical look so I corrected my statement. “Okay, okay, she can’t wait to go swimming. So when do you want to go?”
We made plans while we ate my homemade stew.
AMBER: Throughout dinner, I watched my best friend interacting with her adorable child, flabbergasted that here we were—all grown up and trying to make our way in the world. How in the hell had we made it this far?
When Roshell first moved I was angry with her for leaving but as I sat there with her
and Marissa I couldn’t help but be grateful that we had somehow managed to keep our friendship throughout the years.
Amber had been right about the weather forecast. By the time we loaded up all of the picnic items it was around ten, and already reaching the high seventies. I buckled Marissa into her car seat in the back, and we hit the road, intending to stop by the small grocery store on the way to pick up cold beverages.
As we meandered up and down the aisles, making sure that we weren’t forgetting any necessities, we ran into Darren.
Darren and Amber had broken off their relationship the previous year, but still managed to maintain a solid friendship. They really didn’t see each other often as they were both busy working full time and had started dating new people.
Darren hugged Amber affectionately, before turning to face me. “Well, look what the cat drug in! I was wondering if you were ever gonna show your face around here again.”
He enveloped me in a tight bear hug, slapping me on the back a little too emphatically. “It’s about damn time,” he said and turned to see the miniature Shirley Temple look- alike sitting in the cart. “Holy Shit, is this your kid?”
I laughed at Darren’s typical exuberance. Some things never changed. “Yes, this is my daughter Marissa, and she just loves to repeat everything that she hears, so you might want to watch your potty mouth,” I warned.
“Whoops, sorry, my bad. Well she sure is cute. Its kind of weird seeing you with a kid though.” He glanced in Amber’s direction, his eyebrows raised, “What do you think? Is it weird?”
Amber shrugged.
I could tell that she still felt strange with their new ‘friendship’ and it was probably awkward to talk to him so casually,
“Yeah, it was a little weird at first,” Amber said, “but I’m used to it now.” She reached over and lightly tugged at one of Marissa’s ringlets, watching it bounce back up.
Embracing You, Embracing Me - A Coming of Age Romance (Fingerpress Life Stories) Page 12
