Mistakes of My Past

by Emily James

  I leave Amber another answering machine message. I have no idea if she listens to them, but I sound even more stupid on this one, stuttering and stammering that I’m on my way over. I have no idea why I can’t talk to this woman properly. But, I’ve resolved to be decent toward her. Patrick’s been good to us and whatever’s going on with Amber, I’m sure there’s more to her than meets the eye.

  * * *

  Knocking loudly for the second time, I wonder if she just plans to leave me waiting on the doorstep. I put my freezing hands into the pockets of my jacket and decide she’s probably being childish. She might not want the driving lesson, but she must realise we’ve got her best interests in mind. Since Patrick’s back on Saturday, I’ll come over and snitch on her then. It’ll make her mad as a box of frogs, but I like the fire in her eyes when she gets testy. Besides, she’ll have to give in if Patrick’s here. The thought makes me smile.

  Turning to leave, I hear that damn dog again, but it sounds a hell of a lot closer. Checking over my shoulder I see Amber, clinging on to the lead of the dog, as she’s dragged, as if caught in a cyclone, in my direction. I run to help her before she gets herself hurt. The dog is barking and jumping from side to side, then around and around, chasing its tail.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” I ask, as I try to get the lead from her.

  She pulls back, “Gizmo, sit. SIT!” She commands. The dog pays no attention whatsoever and continues to leap and jump. “Gizmo and I just went for a walk. She’s not used to the lead yet. Isn’t that right, lovely girl?” She reaches to pat Gizmo’s head but Gizmo has other ideas. Growling at something in the distance, Gizmo lunges forward, taking Amber with her.

  I act instinctively, snaking my arm around her waist to hold her up and taking Gizmo’s lead with my free hand. Amber looks up at me, our faces only inches apart. Shock flashes in her eyes and I release her straightaway.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you. I didn’t want you to fall.” I step back to give her some space. She’s so small it makes me wish I was smaller, so I was less intimidating to her.

  “Thank you.” Amber looks away toward Gizmo, her face flushed, “Let’s get you inside before you get us into more mischief.” I follow them inside and shut the door behind us.

  “What are you doing with our neighbour’s dog anyway?” I ask.

  “Jed said I can walk her. He works long hours, so I’ll be helping him out. I’m hoping if I can train her to be a little better behaved, he might start letting her sleep in the house.” She shakes her head and I realise that the dog sleeping outside during the winter is as shitty to her, as it is to me.

  “I didn’t meet the new neighbour yet, what’s he like?”

  “He’s…” She nibbles at the side of her lip as she considers, “Well, I only spoke to him for a minute, so I don’t know.”

  “And he trusted you with his dog? You must have hit it off.” It comes out a little harsher than I intended. It’s none of my business.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got for you to eat,” she says, searching through the cupboard. I’m about to tell her I already ate when I realise she’s talking to the dog.

  “Soup, some kind of pasta, ah – tuna, I bet you’d like tuna, huh?” She looks at the dog as if expecting an answer. It’s cute to watch and I have to deliberately stop myself grinning. She dumps the tuna on a paper plate and pats the dog’s head as it tucks in.

  “What sort of name is Gizmo, anyway?” she muses. “I’m going to call you… Flo, that’s much better, isn’t it, Flo? Jed must have had his head strapped on backward calling you Gizmo, huh?”

  “You do realise that dog’s insane?” I ask, transfixed as she washes her hands and mutters away about warm baths and smelly dogs.

  “Flo’s not insane,” Amber smiles thoughtfully, “She’s… misunderstood. She just needs a little time, that’s all.” Amber looks at Flo wistfully. It’s the most I’ve heard her speak and she seems more relaxed than the last two times I saw her. It warms me to her that she’s so instantly taken by a flea-bitten dog.

  * * *

  As Amber indicates on to the freeway, I realise that she’s a much better driver than I gave her credit for.

  She looks over at me in the passenger seat. “Would you stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous. I’m not going to crash.”

  I look away, not having realised that I was staring.

  “Just keep your eyes on the road,” I tell her, knowing full well it will piss her off. I’m quite enjoying her light mood since she brought Flo home.

  “I am keeping my eyes on the road. Tell me which way this superstore is?” she huffs. Yep—she’s getting crabby.

  “Take a right up ahead. Now remember you can…”

  She interrupts me, “Yeah, yeah, you can turn right at a red light. You already told me.”

  She fluidly reverses into one of the spaces outside the store and I have to admit I’m impressed. Most girls, in my experience, can’t handle the stick shift and they certainly can’t reverse park like she just did. Not that I’m going to admit that to Amber.

  In the store, she’s like a woman possessed, loading the cart with more items for Flo than for herself. In view of her light mood, I chance a few questions. Not because I’m interested in her, but because I should probably know more about her if she’s going to spend time with Cody.

  “So, Amber, what’s the deal with you? How come you’ve never been to Ohio?” I ask her.

  She stops balancing the merits of canned versus dry dog food and eyes me suspiciously.

  “My dad used to visit me at home in England but when my mum met someone, I guess it was hard for him, to see my mum with someone else. Even after my mum and Mick broke up, Dad stayed away.” Her expression is thoughtful and I wonder if I should have chosen an easier subject.

  “By the time I was eighteen and old enough to travel alone, it had been such a long time since I’d seen Dad, I was too worried it’d be awkward.”

  “I can see that would be hard. But, Patrick is a great guy. When my mom and dad died, he became like the cool uncle I never had. You guys will get back on track, give it time.”

  “Cool uncle? Ha, who is this stranger you talk of? The Patrick I know spent the past five years emailing me Scrabble quizzes. I’m still not sure I forgive him for never letting me win.” Her infectious giggle turns heads and a guy across the aisle checks her out. I glare at him, as Amber loads the dog food into the cart. What a dick move! That guy doesn’t know she’s not with me.

  When we get to the counter, we squabble as I rearrange the items on the belt. “Detergent next to bread, that’s not how you pack groceries,” I take over.

  “What are you, the shopping police? God, you’re so anal,” she huffs. I bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

  “Aw, aren’t you two the cutest, just married?” the cashier asks.

  “NO!” Amber blurts, horrified by the suggestion.

  “She’s kidding.” I give the cashier my most convincing, shit-eating grin. “We're two very happy months into our life partnership and she's the apple of my eye. She’s just not quite house trained yet,” I wink to the cashier, who flushes red and looks just thrilled that I confirmed her thoughts. Amber’s eyes flare at me, she’s hopping mad.

  “What?” I pull a stupid face at Amber, “I’m that repulsive, huh?”

  Amber huffs and speeds away with the cart, toward the parking lot.

  I walk behind her, faking a limp.

  “Hey lady, come back here with ma cart,” I holler after her, in a southern-hick drawl. She wants repulsive, I’ll give her repulsive. “Heeyyy, lady, quit stealing and give me back ma cart,” I shout again, flailing my arms around me. The other customers stare after her as she turns and shoots me fire from her eyes. I follow her, in full character all the way back to the car, when, still in a huff, she gets in the driver’s seat and slams the door. I load the trunk and sit next to her in the passenger side. A small smile plays on her lips and
feeling smug that I put it there I push a little harder.

  “Now, if you’d like to put the key in the ignition and slowly move the car into reverse we can finish our lesson and… hopefully get home safe.” My cheeks ache with the effort it takes to stop myself smiling.

  Amber closes her eyes and slows her breathing. She's either counting or planning to hurt me. She’s clutching the car key in her right hand so hard, her knuckles are almost white.

  “Will, I know you are not used to being around adults and behaving as one is obviously, extremely difficult for you, but if you tell me how to drive one more time, this key is going in your eye.”

  Despite her threats, Amber can’t stop grinning, she looks almost proud of herself. It makes me proud of her too, she’s so jumpy sometimes. I like her playful, spunky side.

  “Baby, you always go for the smallest tool in the box. You could use my help finding yourself some bigger equipment,” I wiggle my eyebrows as I flirt and flash the cheeky grin that got me laid back in high school.

  Amber's eyes lower from mine and her hand combs her hair over the right side of her face. Her hand trembles slightly and it takes her a moment to find the ignition to start the car. The tension is thick as she reverses the car back into a wheel spin and speeds away.

  Knowing I went too far, I chastise myself. Real smooth, Denver—you dick!

  Chapter 10

  Amber

  I did my best to stay cross with Will the whole way home.

  What was that cashier thinking? With my track record, I expected it to project outwardly that I’m a nun. No sex, no thank you.

  I shake my head. A normal girl would flirt back, give him a sexy smile and go on with her day. I acted like a loon!

  Slowing the car to a stop, I get out and slam the door, pocketing the keys as I walk. They stay with me now. Will stops me by holding my shoulder as I grab a few bags from the boot. I turn abruptly and see him effortlessly scoop up the remaining bags with his other hand. My eyes settle on the masculine hand that rests on my shoulder. Will’s smile falters and he removes his hand, running it through his thick hair.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier,” he says, being sweet again, like when he brought me the pancakes.

  Noticing I’m caving under the weight of the bags, he takes some, and motions for me to continue walking. It gives me time to try think of an apology for being so huffy.

  Will unlocks the door and holds it open as I manoeuvre around an excited Flo. Setting the bags on the counter, I fill the water bowl I bought, and say the first thing that comes to mind, “You know, Will, you’re not a bad guy—when you’re not being an ass.” I surprise myself by blurting that out. It’s true, though, the way he cares for Cody. My dad said that he’s ‘the most considerate twenty-five-year-old’ he’s ever met.

  “You’re right. I am pretty great. Though, I am surprised it’s taken you this long to notice.” He gives me a mega-watt smile, and I can’t help noticing how cute he is. I swoosh the water from the dog’s bowl, splashing him, and then put it on the floor for Flo.

  “You know, you should work on your humility, Will, you might not squeeze your giant head back through the door,” I say, sarcastically eyeing the door.

  Will uses his sleeve to wipe his eyes, when they’re dry, he eyes me carefully. He takes my comment as his cue to leave, and whilst I didn’t mean he should go, I can’t take it back now.

  His face turns serious, and our conversation reverts to formal.

  “I need to stop by later, with the architect. She wants to make some revisions, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course,” I say, not entirely wanting him to leave yet. I was starting to enjoy his company.

  Will closes the door behind him, walks across the side lawn, and jumps the fence separating our properties, until he’s inside his house and out of view.

  I sigh. “Right, Flo, let’s give you that bath.” Flo just flops on her back for a belly rub.

  * * *

  It turns out Flo doesn’t like baths. She hates them.

  My T-shirt clings to my body, as I sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor, with Flo on my lap as I coax the tangles from her fur.

  “Huh. Huh.”

  I swing my head to follow the unsuspected noise—someone deliberately makes their presence known—a woman, my age perhaps, but better bred. She has blonde hair twisted in a chignon and her face is painted to perfection; she’s striking and dresses to impress.

  Flo growls as I keep hold of her collar, patting her dry.

  “Hi, you must be Patrick’s daughter?” The woman looks down her perfectly pointed nose at me, questioning like she isn’t sure. “I’m Candace—the architect.” She holds out her hand, pauses and then swiftly puts it behind her back. “I thought I’d come by and say hi. Will said you’d be here.”

  I stand to greet her, looking down at myself. She can see I'm embarrassed, I smile apologetically. I changed into my sweats earlier to bathe Flo, and now I’m covered in tufts of hair, and I smell of wet dog.

  No wonder she doesn’t want to shake my hand.

  I notice Will, a few meters behind the doorway, measuring something along the ground. He looks up and jogs over to us, causing his hair to flap around. The sun catches his hair and it beams gold and caramel tones, like a shiny new penny. He's changed into ripped jeans and builder’s boots, a look that multiplies his appeal. Well, to Candace, at least, who gawks at him, like he’s a steak during a famine.

  Will, stops to stand in the doorway, next to Candace. She stops appraising him long enough to greet him with a purr and to hold onto his bicep. I wonder why she doesn't just piss on him, to complete the marking of territory.

  Will wipes his boots on the mat, and steps over the threshold, grabbing a stool at the counter. I sit beside him, which leaves Candace hovering in the doorway not sure whether to follow. It's oddly pleasing to me that he's out of her clutches.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” He greets me with a flash of his cocky grin. “Not good, I take it?” He says, cocking his head at the dishevelled look that I'm rocking. He leans down and greets Flo, missing the measuring glare Candace gives him. Her eyes then settle on me.

  “I just wanted to stop by, say hi.” She scrunches up her nose and adds, “I didn’t realise Patrick got a dog?”

  “I’m just looking after her,” I tell her.

  “I hope she doesn’t ruin the carpets,” Candace says, like it’s any of her business.

  “Flo’s quite well behaved these days,” Will says and winks at me.

  “Oh, Will, you could ask her,” Candace points her red, polished fingernail at me.

  “No, I’ll work something out,” he dismisses her, shaking his head.

  “What?” I blurt out, wishing I hadn’t.

  Candace throws me a sickly grin. A grin that is, no doubt, well-practiced in order to get her way.

  “Will was wondering if you’d mind babysitting his sister Friday night.”

  “No. Candace, that was what you wondered. I know that Amber doesn’t want to be stuck with my sister all night.” Will says this with a smile, trying to give me an out.

  “I don’t mind,” I offer. “I like Cody.”

  “Are you sure? Mrs Steven’s usually looks after her, but she’s out of town until next week.” Will looks unsure and I’m not sure if it’s because he doubts my care-giving ability or if he doesn’t want to railroad me.

  Candace doesn’t seem to care either way. She rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone.

  “That’s settled then,” Candace tells Will. “I’ve just booked the Four Seasons. I’d better get going. Will, would you be a darling by walking me to my car?”

  He looks toward me, and awkwardly offers a decidedly non-dimpled smile. “I’ll see you Friday, then?”

  I nod and return his smile, and he closes the door behind them.

  “So, that must be Will Denver’s beautiful girlfriend,” I say to a disinterested Flo.

  * * *

 
Letting myself in through the back door, I sigh and slip to the floor, hugging my knees, as I relive taking Flo back to the kennel over at Jed’s place. She looked so sad as I abandoned her.

  Flo wasn’t the first animal I’d let down; No, I let Matilda down far worse.

  * * *

  As I opened a tin of dog meat for Matilda, Tommy crept up behind me and put his arms around my waist.

  “Do you have to go back tonight?” Tommy said as he brushed the back of my neck with his lips.

  “You know I do,” I replied, leaving his hands around my waist, but wishing I could pull away. Not this again. I sighed.

  “You saw her earlier. You’re going to wear her out and make her worse. Besides, I was going to invite Stacey and Tim over, to have a few drinks.’ His eyes bore into mine as he smiles and adds, “Come on, you know you want to.”

  His comments are a physical blow. ‘Make her worse,’ she was dying, how much worse could she get. Over the past few weeks I’d come across so much conflicting advice… Live each day…. Take it easy… Make the most of it… Don’t overdo it…

  Mum had been having a good day when I saw her earlier. She'd even sat up as we poured through our photo albums. She’d promised to hang on until my twenty-first birthday, only a few weeks away.

  I lowered my eyes. I was exhausted, I didn’t want another argument.

  “Tommy, I’m only here to eat and shower. How about I cook you dinner and you have fun with Stacey and Tim, while I'm at the hospice. I’ll make sure I’m not late home.”

  “The girl in the big house, getting bored with me, is she?”

  He used to call me that with affection, ‘The girl in the big house wants to go out with me huh?’ The first time he said that, he hadn’t even walked me home yet. I felt so special because the coolest guy in town had taken the time to work out where I lived. Lately, it was a contentious phrase, followed by Tommy insinuating that I think I’m better, smarter, or too good for him. I was getting tired; tired of everything.