Page 35 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

Amber glanced at the thick gates again, fingers of dread clenching her stomach. She had dreams of her and her sister being similar. Of seeing herself reflected through familiar but different eyes. That she would somehow see in her sibling that piece she was missing inside herself. But now, looking at the posh gated community, Amber started to believe that maybe she was missing the half her sister possessed and it could never be found and patched in. Half of her sister came from someone else’s genes. The half that made her a success.

Her sibling lived in a community with its own lake and a gate. Not a three-inch-high plastic fence propped around some wilted petunias and a mud puddle.

A vehicle drove in, the gate opening.

“Shall we?” Scott asked, putting his truck in gear. He rested his foot on the brake, waiting for Amber to give him the go-ahead.

Through the open window she placed a hand on his forearm, holding him back. The gate began to close and she quickly whacked his arm, encouraging him to speed through before it shut. Scott complied and Amber jogged alongside, the black metal gates sealing behind them. He stopped on the other side and she hopped into the passenger seat.

“Whew,” she said. “That was close.”

“You’re nuts.”

“You’re the one who went for it.”

“You told me to.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Remember,” Scott warned, “no ambushing. We’re simply doing a curiosity-fueled drive-by.”

“Right. No being the creepy person who tracked her down.”

“It might be a little too late for that,” he muttered as he turned onto a wide boulevard lined with large homes, manicured lawns and gardens surprisingly lush for the earliness of the season. The evening sun gave everything a haze that made it seem idyllic and unreal. Amber hadn’t even realized there were homes like this in Dakota. As they drove by one with a pool house and guest cottage, she tried not to daydream about what it might be like if she and her sister got along famously. Would she move into their guesthouse and join her sister for coffee every morning before work?

Then the doubt began.

“What if we don’t have anything in common?”

Scott, his arm resting on the frame of the open window glanced at her. “You have the same mom.”

“But we obviously lead entirely different lives. I doubt she’s ever dropped an ex-boyfriend’s trailer off a cliff.”

“You get along with everyone, Amber. It will be fine.”

Scott slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing an old dog. The golden retriever meandered down the middle of the pavement, blocking their way, sparing them a glance. They were still two houses from her sister’s, and Amber didn’t want to stop. She wanted to keep going, hurry along, not be noticed. At the same time she wanted to ask Scott to find an excuse for her to stop and gawk, absorb every detail about the area and her possible-sister’s home.

“Thank you for stopping,” a woman called with a wave, and Amber slumped down in her seat. The woman left the sidewalk and called to the dog, which ignored her, continuing on his way. “Sorry! He’s deaf and old.” She wore capris that fit amazingly, and Amber looked down at her own worn jeans. Maybe she should have dressed up more so she wouldn’t look so out of place. No, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t meeting anyone and definitely not her sister. They were just passing through. Nobody would notice her.

The dog lay down in the middle of the street, blocking their way, oblivious to the truck wanting by. The young woman gave a frustrated shrug and tried to tug at his large shoulders, but he didn’t budge, seeming to have decided this was a good place for a rest.

Scott pulled the vehicle to the curb and parked.

“What are you doing? We’re practically in front of my sister’s house,” Amber whispered. “What if she looks out her window and realizes it’s me?”

“And how is she going to recognize you? Does stalking run in the family?” He shut off the engine and opened his door.

“But what if she sees me today and then when we meet she remembers me and realizes I was hanging around her house and being creepy?”

“Then hide in the backseat. I don’t care. But we’re getting nowhere with Old Yeller in the middle of the road. They need help.”

Scott walked over to the dog, which turned his head but remained where he was. Scott chatted with the woman before talking to the retriever, scratching his belly, then eventually trying to lift him. The dog growled and Scott backed off.

Amber sighed and got out of the truck. They needed to move before things got out of hand or embarrassing. She bent low and slapped her thighs, using a high-pitched, excited voice to call the dog. The animal turned his head and she encouraged him, continuing to coo. “Thatta boy! Come here. That’s a good doggy.” The retriever stood, joints stiff, tail moving. He waggled over to her before sitting on her feet and looking up at her with a happy smile. She petted him and gave Scott a smug look.

“Thank you so much,” said the woman. “He’s gotten so old he just does whatever he wants.”

“You don’t always have to be old to do that,” Scott said under his breath, giving Amber a glance.

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