Page 5 of Pages of Amber

“You shouldn’t. You did great and everyone knows it. They wouldn’t all say it if it wasn’t true, right?”

No, they wouldn’t. Unfortunately, their words weren’t the ones she desperately craved. Their opinions were little more than rocks against the formidable mountain of what the expert had to say. She often thought their praise was wasted on her. She had never understood why she deserved it. She couldn’t accept it, not when it didn’t tally with what she had heard for so long. When she needed to work twice as hard and still felt stuck in the same place. But as she always did, she buried it all far, far underneath. With a simple nod, she said,“I know. Thanks, Lexi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The clink of china echoed in the dining room, rattling her nerves. Mallory Coleman stirred her tea across from Amber, the action rhythmic as she added two cubes of sugar and stirred again. With another clink, she set down the teaspoon and brought the cup to her lips. Amber watched her mother, following the movements she knew to be basically routine even though they felt new whenever she saw it.

At forty-six, Mallory Coleman hadn’t aged a day over her twenties. Her arched cheekbones and pert lips sat between blonde hair cut into a stylish bob. It did a great job emphasizing her elegant features. Her silver blue eyes were piercing against the palette of her skin and had been the downfall of many opponents. Her makeup was perfectly done no matter the time of day. Her mother had always been beautiful but after taking the reins of Coleman Construction & Real Estate, it had become a cold sort of beauty. Almost as though she was molded and cast in marble. While the family business had always done well, it had flourished the past few years. It made Amber wish her father was here to see it. Her parents had worked hard to accomplish their dream and had built the company from the ground up. With her mom’s connections from her days as a principal dancer, it hadn’t taken long for their empire to rise.

Her mother had been a ballerina, one of the best of her generation. Amber could still remember seeing newspaper clippings of her mom, some captured on stage and others with her dance team on their performance tours. If she closed her eyes, she could even recall the smile on her dad’s face and the pride in his voice as he showed her the treasured mementos of her mom’s career with Amber sitting on his lap, riveted by his stories.

Her mother had been a professional dancer making her name known all over the world. She had won competitions, attained trophies and awards, had toured the world with her team, performing in productions that had left audiences enraptured. Her dad had loved to say her mom would have gone down in ballet history, her portrait hung in the hall of the greats like Anna Pavlova and Pierina Legnani until she’d met him and they had fallen in love. A few years down the line, her mother had quit ballet due to complications when Amber had come along.

She had never seen her mother on stage beyond the pictures her father had shown her. But she cherished the little things. Being held by her mom as they spun round the kitchen. Her dad joining in despite being horribly arrhythmic. Her mom’s classical music trilling through the house on Sundays while she and her dad sat in his armchair. Those times all seemed so far away now. Amber looked to her mom across the expansive dining table. The echo of silence between them was haunting. A yawning chasm sat between them that grew an inch wider with each minute that passed. Amber struggled to remember the last time either of them had bridged the gap. Her mother’s gaze met hers. A minute ticked by before her voice cut through the thick air, relieving Amber.

“How was school today?”

Amber moved her arm, feeling stiff from sitting rigidly in her seat. She leaned back into the cushion but her ingrained training didn’t let her slouch into the seat. Cutting into the last piece of chicken on her plate, she said,“Good. It was nice to be back after so long. The girls were really excited to have me back too.”

A brow rose, sharp and succinct.“And practice? Have you resumed?”

“Not yet. With the renovations going on, space is pretty tight so our classes have been shuffled around. I got a copy of the new schedule to keep track of it all.”

Her mom’s cutlery clinked as she sat it down and reached for her water, saying nothing. Amber took it as a win. She bit her lip wondering. Should she go for a streak?“The girls have a surprise planned for me on Thursday,”she began hesitantly.“I don’t know all the details yet but after school-”

The glass was set down with a dullthunk!Amber quickly shut up. Her mother’s dainty wrist hovered over the drinkware as silence began to press in again. Amber struggled not to slouch under its intensity.

“You’re in your last year, aren’t you Amber?”

Her hands found each other under the table, sinking lifeguards desperate for anchor.“Yes, mom.”

“Then I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how important it is that you finish strongly. Having a good stage presence and some talent is nothing if you don’t have the education to back up a career. The way to do that is to take your studies seriously and these girls, I’m not sure they have your best interest at heart.”

Amber struggled with the urge to jump in and defend her friends, not wanting to risk her mother’s ire. Her mom had never liked Beverly and Lexi. Amber had never known why since they had barely interacted with her. Her friends stayed clear of her mom and Amber was honestly too much of a coward to ask about it. There wasn’t a particular reason her mom didn’t like them or at least no reason Amber was aware of. Her mom simply didn’t like a lot of things nowadays.

“Mom, they’re great friends and they–”

“They would not be encouraging you to put away your books after a two-week absence from school and practice if they were suchgreat friends.Don’t you agree?”

Blue clashed on blue, one beseeching, the other unrelenting. Her mother pinned her with that gaze. The one Amber should have been used to but it still landed a direct hit in the softest part of her chest. It was the look that never failed to make her feel only an inch tall and insignificant. The one that hurt because a mother should never have a look like that reserved for her daughter.

Amber broke her gaze when the door to the room pulled open and Dottie stepped in. The older woman strode towards the table, tray in hand. She sent Amber a sympathetic smile as she swapped the dinner plates for dessert. Amber temporarily forgot the unpleasantness of the conversation at the bowl of peach cobbler before her. Her mouth watered at the sweet aroma alone and she couldn’t wait to scarf it down.

She smiled at Dottie in thanks and picked her fork, eager to dig in. She’d abstained from a lot of her comfort foods leading up to the regionals competition. Her mom had always maintained that a ballerina had to be conscious of what she ate to keep healthy and keep her body suited to her costumes but Amber still liked to bend the rules where she could. The meal before her felt more like a celebration than anything else.

“Did you use almond milk, Dottie? What flour did you use for the mix? I don’t want any extra carbs sneaking into her system.”

Amber’s hand paused on its way to her mouth as she swiveled her head to face Dottie. They blinked at each other in sync before Dottie composed herself to answer.

“Not today, Ma’am. I thought with the competition over, Amber would like to enjoy her–”

“You thought, did you?”The sharp tone of her mom’s voice cut Dottie’s answer to the quick. Amber barely noticed the quiver in her hand as she lowered her fork. Dottie had only meant well. After her and her mom’s return, she had told Amber how relieved she was the competition was over so she could return to preparing her foods off the more lenient diet plan.

“Mom,”she started gently, readying herself for the storm. Amber wouldn’t let Dottie take blame when she had basically asked her for the meal.“I asked Dottie to prepare the meal for me since the competition is over. I didn’t think I had to watch the calories as much anymore.”

She steeled herself as her mother turned to her. Amber could barely meet her gaze where she knew the real fire would be. Her mom had the perfect poker face after years of being on display before the media. While Amber admired that, it wasn’t as fun having it pointed at her. Her mom’s face remained blank but her eyes were her true tell. Those eyes flashed at her now.

“Have I taught you nothing?”Her mother spoke, somehow looking down her nose at Amber despite being on opposite ends of the table.“You must always be prepared. Your body is what you feed it. An opportunity can come calling at any moment and you would have complicated your chances by eating recklessly and slacking off.”Her words ended in a sigh, like it was hopeless that she kept repeating herself. Her eyes dropped to her glass as she raised it to her lips,“It’s a wonder you even won second place at that competition. You would have returned with first if you ever took the time to listen to me.”

The echo of disappointment in her words crashed into Amber. She blinked rapidly, counting her breaths, her hands folding into the coarse fabric of her jeans.

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