Page 33 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

They could have a ton in common and become best friends.

Then again, her sister might not want to have anything to do with her after she found out that Amber was the flaky heroine in a new novel currently taking the country by storm.

Amber wanted to be like her mother and seize the day, jump on the offered unicorn of dreams and ride it over the rainbow and into the sunset.

But she couldn’t. It would mean not thinking about the impact on her mother.

Being an adult sucked.

Yet she could still argue that this was her sister and it was her right to meet her.

And on the other side of the argument, Amber would be betraying her mother and her trust. But then why would her mom mention her sister if she didn’t secretly want Amber to find her?

She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff. The edge of truth. A turning point in her life. Before sister; after sister. If she didn’t pursue this, she’d always wonder.

But pursuing it could cause a rift between her and her mother.

Instead of continuing to argue with herself, Amber got in the golf cart and drove into Blueberry Springs, parking in front of the police station. Scott was sitting at his desk, typing up a report. He look impossibly large hunched over the small machine, and as she had hundreds of time before, she sat across from him in the empty chair, waiting for him to finish what he was doing. Nobody else was in the office. Scott was usually the only officer on duty, and Dispatch--who also served as reception and secretary--was already gone for the day, leaving them alone.

She knew he would finish his reports, then check on any animals in the pound, taking the dogs for a walk. Then he’d seek either her or his family out for a little downtime.

“Guess what?” Amber asked, when he finally pushed himself away from his keyboard. “I have a sister!”

Shoot. So much for her promise to her mother that she’d keep her secret safe. But there was no way Amber could deal with something this huge on her own. She needed someone to talk to. She needed Scott.

“It’s confidential,” she added hastily.

“Okay.” Scott studied her face, but remained quiet, listening.

“Not only that, but I think I may have found her. I want to wait until the government has confirmed it before I tell my mom, but my sister wants to meet. Tomorrow.”

As she spilled the secret, Amber kept waiting for something to click. For it all to feel real. For the hole inside to somehow backfill, making her into some sort of elegant, mature woman who could run the PTA without accidentally giving all the fund-raising money to a charlatan. Someone Scott would be proud to have on his arm.

She was thinking of him again. Why did every thought seem to act like a Scott-magnetized boomerang these days? It went out into the world perfectly fine, but always turned midflight and landed at Scott’s wonderful size eleven feet.

“I think my mom has always wondered about my sister, but she’s scared to open that can of worms. I can’t decide if it’s better to go see this possible sister and report back to Mom, or wait. If I wait, she might say no. And if she says no then I can never go forward.”

Scott stared at Amber contemplatively.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think? What should I do?”

He folded his hands and leaned forward.

“I could use more family,” she prompted, hoping he’d reply, “Go for it.”

If she had his blessing, she’d know she wasn’t being impulsive and that she wasn’t fooling herself with false logic.

“It’s exciting. The idea of having all this family out there. It’s not just me and Mom. We have aclan.”

“I know where you’re coming from,” Scott said at last. “But how will your mom feel if you go out and meet her while she’s away? Will she feel betrayed? Is she ready to let this come out in the open? I didn’t know you had a sister--this is pretty big.”

“You don’t know everything,” Amber said, hoping the doubt she felt wasn’t evident in her voice.

“I’m a cop in Blueberry Springs.” He paused to let that sink in. “I know more than Mary Alice and Liz combined.”

Shoot. Okay. Regroup. New argument.

There wasn’t one.

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